I'll Be Seeing You

My grandfather died in the early morning hours of April 6, 2008.  It was a tough day for all of us, followed by tougher weeks ahead.

At this time, I was still in high school and my sister was at Ole Miss.  I could hear the phone ring in my parent's bedroom and I knew that it was never a good thing whenever anyone called that early.  My mom came in to tell me the news: Papa died.

We had expected it for a while.  He had received diagnosis after diagnosis that all pointed to the end.  However, in the same fashion that he lived his life, he neither tired nor faltered; he would not accept something that he did not believe to be true.  Over the next months after his diagnosis, his health got a lot worse.  He got weaker and we settled into the knowledge that we would soon be without him.  But it was not that easy.  My cousin was getting married that spring and he did not want to miss it.  Despite his failing health, Papa managed to find his second wind.  He made it to that wedding and we have the proof in a beautiful photograph of the entire family.  True to it's form, Papa's second wind did not last long.  A few weeks later, my grandfather passed away.

My mother drove to Oxford right away to tell my sister.  She went to her dorm room, woke her up, and let her know.  She took my sister to get breakfast and sitting there next to the car was a beautiful male cardinal.  He watched them drive away.  My sister knew it in her heart that that cardinal was Papa, quietly watching over her.

That night when I was trying to find my shoes that I was going to wear to the funeral, I looked underneath my bed and saw, not a pair of shoes, but instead a toy cardinal.  Oftentimes when I am running late or am stressed out, I see a quick glimpse of a cardinal out of the corner of my eye and I instantly relax.  On my most important days when the butterflies are fluttering in my stomach, I have been known to pass a cardinal on my way in to whatever new journey I am about to lead.  Cardinals are there when I am on the verge of tears.  During my best moments and my worst.  Present for my mundane and extraordinary days.

And this is not just for me or my sister.  My grandmother has a beautiful male cardinal residing in the birdhouse outside of the kitchen window.  My mom and aunts and uncles and cousins see cardinals all the time.  In terms of literature, a cardinal is a symbol of grace and nobility.  For my family, a cardinal is Papa... watching over us, protecting us, being there for our daily trials.

I have never been one to believe in reincarnation or ghosts or spirits.  That is not what Papa is.  I know that my grandfather is above in Heaven.  He watches over my family every day and just to say hello, he puts a cardinal in our path to remind us of the love he has for each one of us.

Today was another tough day.  My father, mother, sister and I were packing our bags to leave Mimi's house when Mimi told us that Aunt Naomi had died.  She had been fighting a very tough battle to live for quite some time now.  She had held on through Christmas, held on as long as she could, and passed away peacefully in her sleep.

We went over there once we heard the news.  We wanted to be with family and show our support to our loved ones that were beginning to face the grieving process.  It was such a hard thing to do, but I am so glad that we were able to be there.  We shed our tears, hugged our hearts out, offered our condolences, and gave our goodbyes.  With nothing left to do, we left.

Our bags were packed and we hit the road.  I turned on a playlist to try to mend our broken hearts.  I sat in the drivers seat, clutching the steering wheel and bracing myself for the long road home.  My sister sat next to me with her face pointed towards the window, trying to hide her tears.  We passed through the roads of that sleepy town, headed onto the highway, and we were nearing the bridge that connected where we were going with where we were coming from.  I leaned forward to turn up the radio.  My sister looked up.  What we saw then was a sign.  A sign that everything would be alright.  To the left of the car, right before the bridge, a dozen cardinals flew towards town.

I was sad not being able to spend Christmas with Papa this year.  I can still remember how his eyes would light up as he sat in the middle of the room and watched his children and grandchildren open their gifts.  I missed having him around.  I always do.  But as much as I missed him yesterday, I ache for my cousins who just lost their mother.  I am so sad that this is the last Christmas that they will have together. I hate that this is the end of a life, especially the life of a loved one.  However I witnessed something beautiful today that I will never forget.  I watched my grandfather, the head of the family, fly away home.  I watched as he, surrounded by his brothers, sisters, in-laws, and parents, flew to Aunt Naomi to take her to their new eternal home.  A place where life is endless and beautiful.  Where they will be together forever.

I miss you everyday, Papa.  I know that there will be a day where our family will be whole and together again, but until then...




I'll be seeing you.

NYC

The semester ended and I made it through.  I moved into my new place.  I fell in love.

Right after the semester ended, I went on a (free) trip to New York City!  Along with 120 of my closest friends, I did community service for the greater NYC area.






I had the time of my life.


I made a library for the women in the YWCA.
I spent quality time with lovely Jewish seniors from the Bronx that had never been around Southerners.
I shopped until I dropped.
I ate until I couldn't move.
I was a citizen of Little Italy and Chinatown in one afternoon.
I called an international youth hostel my home.
I saw Times Square in the rain and the snow.
I laughed with people on the streets.
I belonged on the subway.
I mastered the art of gracefully draping my scarf around my neck.
I was asked for directions.
I saw my first real Broadway play.
I caught the Christmas spirit.
I woke up at dawn and stood in the cold for hours to get to shake hands with intelligent people that I respect.
I witnessed a beautiful child succumb to the staggering emotions associated with her pure belief.
I lived with black drama.
I felt at home somewhere around 72nd Street.
I walked and walked and walked.
I caught the perfect snowflake.
I saw a miracle on 34th Street.

I was wrong and I was right.  I lived and loved and laughed.

I did not want to come home.  I wanted to stay where the air is crisp.  Where the people are determined.  Where you walk with purpose, wherever it may be that you are going.  I wanted to be a part of the city that never sleeps; a place where I would fit in.

I went to New York City.
I have never been happier.

November Blue

I have always heard that November is a time to fall in love.  I never really believed it.  Why would people fall in love during a month that is so cold and so full of change?  I never realized that the love could be with the cold and full of change.

I fell in love this week.  It was a great week.  Full of thanks and family and friends and change.  My heart was full of glitter and I was spreading it around.

November shadows shade November change.

November spells sweet memory, the season blue remains.

I fell in love with the changes within me and the new people and places I experienced.  My world is turning and is about to go in a direction that I have never even imagined.  I did things this week that I have never done, with people I would never dream of spending time with.  And I am about to be in charge of something bigger than myself.  Something that means the world to me.  Something that will be fragile within my hands.  With that responsibility comes the added bonus of moving into the big white house.  I am fortunate enough to get to move into a wonderful, spacious room with a friend that means so much to me.

But all of this means change.  I am moving out of my comfort zone.  I am leaving friends that I haven't been a day without in almost two years.  I know, I am only moving down the street.  I won't be really leaving them for long.  But I am opening new doors for myself.  Doors that are heavy and that I can't see through.  And I'm scared and excited and so incredibly happy.

I have fallen in love with November.  Fallen for the cold and the change.  The love and the glitter.  Fallen for the new faces and new places.

My heart is dancing to a November tune.

I hope you hear it singing songs about you.

Happy Thanksgiving

I am so thankful for:

great room mates and friends
a wonderful environment to grow in
the best college experience I could ever imagine
a loving family
being able to spend the week with my sister
having three homes that are so special: Oxford, Collierville, Belzoni
the great food that I have eaten/will eat this week
being lucky enough to spend time with all of my family
being a part of something special
earning the respect of the those I hold dear
being trusted with huge responsibilities
getting a little bit closer to my goals
having the opportunity to travel
getting to spend time with new and old friends
classes coming to an end
sweater and boot season
a new pair of glasses so that I can actually see
feeling normal and calm
beautiful compliments
attention and recognition
an update in living arrangements
experiencing a new city and new people


I am thankful for all of this and so much more.


But mainly, I am thankful for this season of life.
For everything it has given me.

All Day

I planned on being a lot more productive today than I have been.  But some battles you lose, and you just don't mind losing.

I luckily figured out earlier that one of my favorite artists was releasing a new album today.  True to its form, the internet at school was being less than helpful.  I tried, unsuccessfully, to download this album all day.  I am not exaggerating when I say all day.  I literally tried for about 6 hours.  Then there was finally a breakthrough!  I was able to download it and I haven't been able to stop dancing since.  It is seriously one of the best things I have heard in a long time.

Tomorrow night (well, considering it is already a bit past midnight... I really mean today) we have a swap with one of my favorite fraternities.  It will surely be a good time and I could not be any more excited!


I don't plan to stop dancing anytime soon.

Come dance ALL DAY with me.

Study, Study, Study

Fall Back

After one of the best weekends of my life, it is time to get back to the grind.  I partied, laughed, cried from my laughter, held on, settled down, jumped around, and just had a lot of fun.

The midwesterner came to town and I loved getting to spend time with her and the new people in her life.  After meeting them, I understand why she is so happy there.  Despite the differences in the culture and climate, good friends can make anything better.

We had our first formal of the semester.  The dynamics were definitely different with the new pledges, but it was so much fun.  This formal was some of the most fun I have had in college.

Yesterday was game day, and a winning one at that.  It might have been cold, but it was fun.  After that, I spent some quality time with some friends that I haven't gotten to see in a while.  It was so much fun and we all really needed it.

Today I got to spend some bonding time with the new members.  They are so funny and I am so glad that we have every single one of them!




This weekend was worth it.  I might have to have an all-nighter tonight and tomorrow to catch up from the weekend, but I don't mind at all.  At least it was daylight savings time this weekend.  While I should have used the extra hour for work, I used it for sleep and couldn't have been happier.  We fell back for just an hour.  We fell back into our routine and back into the real world.


Fall back.

Midwest Mississippi

The midwesterner is coming home.



Tomorrow, she will pull into the driveway.  She will be at home.  In our house.  The one that we grew up in.

And she will show her friends.  Show them how we live.  What it's like.  They will understand her better.  Understand us.

She will drive and drive and drive.  Knowing her, she will sing and sing and sing.  She will drive until she sees the haunts of her past.  The place where she went to school, played soccer, hung out with her friends, lived, loved, grew up.  She will be home.  Her bed, her room, her past, her roots.

Then there is Oxford.  She will be back in her place.  Our place.  The one that she shared with me.  It will be the same; it never changes.  But it will be so different now.  She won't be staying here this time.  She will go back to the midwest, to the big city.



So this weekend, after the long road home, she will love Oxford and be happy.  Although she won't be here for that long, it will be worth it.  It will be home, and it will be happy to see her.  We all will.

Keep driving.  We want you home.

Walking In The Rain

Today is just one of those days where you should know better than getting out of bed.  Everything is safe underneath the covers.  You are nice and warm and nothing can get to you there.

But then you get out of bed.  You walk to class in the rain and get drenched.  You take test after test and get the scores back from tests from the week before.  Your whole body hurts and you want to lie down, but you don't have time.  The day doesn't show signs of stopping until 10:00 at night, and then of course that's when your work really begins.

You should know better.  You shouldn't get out of bed.  Days like this aren't fun.  They aren't the ones you want to remember.  They aren't the ones that are good.  But they are still days.  And like it or not, they must be lived.

So, I got out of the bed.  And hopefully the day will turn up, and go by fast.



But until tomorrow, I'll be the one underneath the umbrella.  The one trying to avoid the puddles.

Swinging Through The Month

The sun is setting on a new month.  It happens roughly every thirty days, and has for as long as I can remember.  So you would think that by now I would expect this.  One could assume that I would have eventually come to term with this phenomenon.

But I haven't.

This month went by way too quickly.  It flew by and I enjoyed a lot of it.  Or at least I tried.


My highs were really high and my lows were really low.  This month was probably one of the most stressful months of my life.  But when it wasn't stressful, it was possibly one of the best months of my life.  I have just been swinging through the emotions this month.  I have just been hanging on to whatever sanity I can try to contain.



I always have good intentions at the beginning of each month.  The end of the month is a time for reflection.  A time to size up if I carried through.  Or fell short.  Or made great memories.

October was a haze.  It was challenging and exciting and busy and frustrating and amazing.

November will be less full.  It is a little bit colder, a little bit more serious, a little bit more my style.  I'm looking forward to November.

The Facts of Life

 

Say what you mean,
 
Do what you say, and
 
When you don't, admit it.
 

Throw My Love Around

This is a week for celebrations.  For loving and living and laughing.  This week is for us.



I have gotten through the stress of my previous weeks.  I have taken every test, attended every meeting, studied until I could no loner keep my eyes open.  And now it is through.  I got past the hard part.

I'm not saying that this week won't take a lot out of me.  Because it will.  I know it will.  There will be long hours and high anxiety.  Others may even shed tears.  But for me, this is a week of celebrations.

The past year has been the greatest one of my life so far.  I met the right people, had the most fun, and discovered what I want and need.  And as cheesy as it may be for me to say this: I know my life would not be the same without my pledge class and my sorority.


DG has always given me so much.  This week, I'm going to give so much back.


Recruitment week is a very long process.  I know that.  I know that I will be tired and cranky during most of the late nights.

But in 9 days, we will have a new pledge class filled with girls that are so special and were hand-picked to be with us.  We will get to show them everything that has made college incredible for us.


In nine days, I won't be the baby anymore.  No longer the new girl.  But I'm okay with that.  Because in nine days, there will be 100 more girls to share my excitement with.







I wrote a post a long time ago about how hearts are made of glitter that you scatter with all of the people and places that you love.  Well, this week is all about love for me.  So instead of sprinkling my love around, I'm going to throw it in the air.

Taking A Break

When things happen, they happen.  And usually, it is all at once.

So tonight, in the midst of my busy schedule, I took a break.  I let my hair down.  It might not be for long, especially since my 8:00 AM class always comes much too early.  But it is long enough.

Long enough for me to:

polish my fingernails,
take a hot shower,
lie down without an accounting book in my face,
watch the newest Glee,
eat fresh pita bread,
drink a Diet Coke with the perfect ice,
drift away with music,
and breathe.

Soon enough it will be the morning.  And with the morning comes a brand new day.  A day filled with studying, meetings, and sleep deprivation.


So until that time comes, I'm just going to keep doing what makes me happy.

Happy Birthday, Suze

When my sister moved to the big city, we all knew that we would have to do some adjusting.  No longer could I just drive over to her house if my internet wasn't working.  No longer could my mother have her come help out at work when she needed some assistance.  No longer could my father meet her when she was having car trouble and was in the midst of one of her many mini-crises.  We had some adjusting to do. And we all foolishly thought that we had mastered these issues pretty well.

And then we remembered: Beth is the one that does the birthday shopping.

With the midwesterner no longer in the region, my father and I had to buckle down and get the birthday presents ourselves.  That was such a challenge.  I had no idea what to do or where to even start.  Who knows my Mom better than my sister?  But my father and I persevered.  We made it through.  I would like to say that she had a terrific birthday, minus the fact that the midwesterner was not present.

I wanted to publish this blog yesterday (on your actual birthday), but the timing got the best of me.  I hope this weekend was fabulous.  I hope that you had the time of your life with your friends.  I hope that it was a birthday to remember.  I can't wait to see you in Oxford in just a few days.

Diet Coke in the Midst of Trouble

It has gotten to the point this year where I can no longer tell the days apart from one another.  This past weekend felt like an entire week and I have absolutely no recollection whatsoever of attending my classes this morning (however, my notes prove that I was in attendance).  I keep looking at my calendar at everything that I have to do in the coming weeks and it makes me want to curl up into a little ball.

My body hurts, my mind is sore, and my spirit is hanging on very gingerly.  I'm tired.  It is midterm time and it is taking itself out on me.  I can feel it.  It is palpable.  I'm doing my best to roll with the punches.




That being said, I am nothing short of thankful for the things that I still can look forward to.

My Oxford life is so exciting, my Mom's birthday is coming up, the mid-westerner is having a great week, and my best friends at home love me.  Deep down I know that I am happy.  It is just surface-level me that needs a breath of fresh air.

So tonight I celebrated myself.  With only a few things due for tomorrow, I relaxed.  I curled up in a blanket, laughed with my friends, watched my favorite shows, and savored every drop of the most precious thing in my life:

It's good to know that even when the world is raining down, Diet Coke will always be there to cheer me up.

If It's The Beaches

I have had an identity crisis.  For my blog.  Third time is the charm, right?

I started this blog with intentions of keeping it to myself.  Just me and my poetry and prose.  I was successful but I soon learned that I didn't enjoy it.  Then I decided that I wanted to share it with the world.  That time, it would be my sarcasm and wit that I showed off.  Now I just want it to reflect my attitude towards the blog.  I found out that I write sentimental posts.  Posts about longing and learning and growing up.

I still am a super model in my day to day life.  Only fabulous things happen to me and I am (luckily) able to laugh about the majority of these instances.  But my blog is different.

This time, it's about making my name and my difference in the world.  It's about going after what I want and what I need.  It's about finding love within myself and others in order to make the world make sense.  It's about not taking no for an answer.  It's about making my own way.  It's about forming my own destiny.


This time, it's about me.

If it's the beaches' sands you want, then you will have them.
If it's the mountains' bending rivers, then you will have them.
If it's the wish to run away, then I will grant it.
Take whatever you think of while I go gas up the truck.
Pack the old love letters up.  We will read them when we forget why we left here.

-The Avett Brothers

Rebel Loyalty

Maybe because it was a night game.  Maybe everyone was healthy.  Or they were excited or calm.  Whatever it was, we won.

We needed this win so badly.  Our team, our school, our spirit was dwindling.  The excitement in the stadium and the grove was palpable.  You could not escape it.

We had our mascot taken away from us a few years ago, but the biggest controversy surrounding that has been recently.  By season-end, we will know what our new mascot will be.  We will have a new identity that we may or may not want.  People are waiting with baited breath for this to solve itself.  We will still technically be the Rebels, even though our team and school will take on a new meaning.  All of this drama has caused us to stop being ourselves.  Somewhere in the anger and the removal of our traditions and pride, we stopped being Rebels.

We just needed a Rebel victory.





Part of being a Rebel is loyalty.

I wish I was in the land of cotton, good times there are not forgotten.

Never Was A Cloudy Day

The summer breeze sure does make me feel fine.  But there is nothing like the fall to chill you to your bones.

I am the biggest supporter of fall.  There is something so beautiful with the leaves changing.   You can feel your life changing.  When the leaves change color, you can feel yourself growing up and growing older.  It's simple, but it happens like clock-work.

Summer is a time for fun and relaxation.  Fall is the time to be the person that you were destined to be.  You have grown enough in the year to know where you want to go, and you have done enough to know how to get there.  Fall signals a fresh start.

As it gets colder, you get older.  But never too old to dance.  I spend my falls dancing through life.  My burdens may catch up to me in the other months and the other seasons, but not right now.  Never in the fall.
.




Do you remember dancing in September?  Never was a cloudy day.  Do you remember dancing in September?  Golden dreams were shiny days.

Happy first day of fall.  May you fall in love with each new day, with golden dreams and cloudless skies.

Sweet Dreams

I try to make myself incandescently happy at least once a day.  The way I fill my happy time is usually always different, but the one thing that can always make me happy is sleep.  Pure, simple sleep.

Going to bed brings so much performance anxiety.  I hate getting tangled up in the logistics.  It means that I am going to have to confront that final moment of consciousness that never wants to surrender.  Going to bed is not a fun thing.  Neither is waking up.  The sound of my alarm clock is the most hated sound in my entire life.  It makes me cringe once I am already awake, but seems to have no effect on me while I am asleep.  Going to bed has never come easily for me so waking up is always so hard to do.  I so much prefer falling asleep.  Letting your body do what it is good at and what is natural.  It doesn't matter where it happens or for how long.  It is so beautiful to me.

My life is full of stress and anxiety.  Most of the time, I have a million things on my agenda and unfortunately I never have enough time to get my full recommended hours of sleep.  What is worse than that, however, is that even when I do have enough time, my body fights against sleep.  I have been sleep deprived for five years.  I spend my nights wishing for relaxation.  All I want is sleep.

When it happens, I cherish every minute of it.  Nothing is sweeter than drifting off into dreamland.  I rarely get enough sleep to rest my weary body, but I firmly believe that everyone should spend at least a few hours every night immobile and unconscious.

I love my fast paced life.  But sometimes the world just moves so fast.  I want to take it all in and savor every second of life, but it gets so overwhelming.  Sometimes I just need to be.  Be still, be calm, be here.  I need those hours, however few or many, of peaceful sleep and oblivion while the world rages around me.  I want to sink into my pillow and into my nothingness.

Sometimes, I just need to sleep.

After The Storm

And after the storm,
I run and run as the rains come
And I look up, I look up,
On my knees and out of luck,
I look up.

Night has always pushed out day.
You must know life to know decay.
But I won't rot, I won't rot,
Not this mind and not this heart,
I won't rot.

And I took you by the hand
And we stood tall
And remembered our own land,
What we lived for.

And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.

And now I cling to what I knew,
I saw exactly what was true,
But oh no more.
That's why I hold,
That's why I hold with all I have,
That's why I hold.

I won't die alone and be left there.
Well I guess I'll just go home,
Oh God knows where.
Because death is just so full and man so small.
Well I'm scared of what's behind and what's before.

And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart and dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.

And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart and dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.

"After The Storm, " Mumford & Sons

School Day Blues

I knew it would happen and it did.  School happened.  I know, I know.  I was the one who wanted to go to Oxford so badly.  I was the one who wanted to be back in my place.  But I was also the one that didn't really think about going back to school.  I just thought about going back to Oxford.

Well here I am.  I have already had way too many homework assignments and the typical string of firsts: quizzes, extra credit, presentations, papers, and tests.  I knew that the work part would come.  I just never anticipated that it would happen so fast.

Did school always used to be this fast paced?  All of my involvement keeps me on my toes at all times.  My agenda has something on almost every day until the end of the semester.  Hello, that is in December.

So please forgive me if I space out on the blog for a while (like I already have).  With school finally back in session, I may just be out of commission.

Tonight

I moved into my new place almost two weeks ago.  If you remember correctly, I was so excited to get back and be in my place once more.  Everything was great.  I got to see my sorority sisters first and spend an entire week with them.  We had a great time laughing and catching up.

Last weekend, everyone else on campus started moving in.  We had an entire weekend to ourselves, no responsibilities, no worries.  Except, in true super model fashion, I got so sick.  I could barely move, ridden with fever, and absolutely miserable.  I spent the entire weekend asleep in bed.  I missed the first weekend going out.  I missed the excitement and the fun.  I missed getting to see everyone.  I missed so much.

I wanted to come to school so badly.  To be back in my place with my people.  To be carefree and lively.  To buckle down and learn.  To test myself and grow.  To live and love and laugh.

Instead, I was ill.  Instead, I was stuck in bed while all of my friends did the things that I had wanted so very badly to do.  Don't get me wrong; they took care of me and made sure that I was alive.  But I wasn't alive.  Not really.  I was dreaming and hoping from behind my medically induced sleep.  Dreaming and hoping that this year would be the best.  That I would be well by the next day.  That I would live and love and laugh and find everything that I need... this week.

Not to be melodramatic, but I didn't.  Not this week.  This week I was still recovering.  This week I was simply a student, going to class.  I saw a few of my friends, but not as many as I would have liked.  This week I was boring, which is something that I never like to be.

So things are going to be changing around here.  My immune system is almost at 100%.  I feel pretty healthy and most of my illness is out of my body.  Things are going to be more fun.  More lively.  Things are going to be how I wanted and still want them to be.





Tonight, I'm going out.

Leaving on that Midnight Train

You get a strange feeling when you're about to leave a place, I told him, like you'll not only miss the people you love, but you'll miss the person you are now at this time and this place, because you'll never be this way again.

Azar Nafisi

38677

Every time I have to leave a place,  I am faced with a sense of sadness.  I have been feeling that sadness for a few days now as I had to suffer through my always-hard-to-say-but-this-time-was-the-worst goodbyes.  However now with my goodbyes said and my bags packed, I am starting to get excited.

I am so ready to be back in my place again.

There is something so great about Oxford.  38677 has a certain magic that I have never found elsewhere.  A feeling in the air that comes with the beauty and history of the place combined with the youth and the exuberance of the people there.  There is an excitement in Oxford: one that does not cease when football season is over; one that cannot be quenched with the last leaf to fall or the ever-rare falling snow; one that begins every morning and ends every night without anyone noticing the transition; one that is alive in every heart, whether they are in the place or not.

The best part about Oxford is that no matter when you leave or however long you are gone, you can always come back home to Oxford.  There will always be a place for you.

Please Don't Go -- Come Back When You Can

One of the best parts of coming home is the people that I come home to.  I didn't have these friends for my whole life, but they have been there for the parts that matter.  Because they matter.

Changing scenery is always an adjustment.  Leaving home is hard to do, but leaving Oxford is just as worse.  And going from place to place takes a toll on my heart.  Each time, though, my friends make the move with me.  Wherever I am and however long it has been since I have spoken to them, it feels like no time has passed.

I was so scared leaving home last summer because I was afraid that the next time I came home I wouldn't have my friends.  I was scared that we would change and it wouldn't make sense anymore.  Well, we did change.  We don't think the same ways anymore and we have done our fair share of growing up.  But what matters is that we matter to each other.  We haven't let the distance get to us.

I will miss them this year.

So here is to the memories that we will make -- with and without each other.

When you fell, you fell towards me.

When you crashed in the clouds, you found me.

Oh, please don't go.

Your big dream is crashing down and out your door.

Wake up and dream once more...

If all you wanted was me, I'd give you nothing less.

Come back when you can.

Until we are back in each others' arms, we will always have Barcelona.

Battle Studies

Some battles are not meant to be fought, because in the long run, they are not meant to be won.


Friendships are these fights.  They are not meant to be fought.  In my earlier, more erratic years, I used to think that confrontation was the way to solve problems.  In some cases, it is.  But with friendship, I have learned to give it a little space.  If, after the space, the problem is still there, then it must be confronted.  However in most of the cases in my life, time heals wounds.

It is easy to want to solve things right away.  To want to talk about the real issue.  To get down to business.  But you don't know what it happening on the other end.  That one question may not feel like just a question; to the person on the other side, it may just as well be a loaded gun.  In times of trouble, take a deep breath.  Sit back, relax, gather your thoughts, and reconvene at a better time.

Tonight was a reconvening, in both senses of the word.  In the first of the night, a break was necessary.  A white flag had to be flown, if only for the night.  In the second, a friendship was saved.  The last time my friend and I spoke, we were tense.  The last conversation we had had the potential to the be the last conversation we would ever have.  But we took a break.  We spoke tonight and the friendship was salvaged.  We remembered everything that made us friends in the first place, and it took the place of what was trying to tear us apart.


It's true what they say: you win some, you lose some.  Unfortunately, sometimes friendships are those that are lost.  But only initially are they won.  When you battle with your friends, no one comes out as a winner.  Everyone loses because, when it comes to friendship, there is no such thing as a fair fight.


So love a little bit more.  Because when it comes down to it, it is kind of all we have.

Please Mr. Postman

In today's day and age, people call, text, tweet, and have conversations wall-to-wall.  Oftentimes nothing is really said.  It is in shorthand.  Abbreviations and acronyms.  Jokes.  Funny sayings.  HTML content.  Links to videos or other clever posts.  It is hardly ever words or real feelings.  Just idle chatter.

There is something so sweet about a handwritten letter.

The sentiment is still there.  You can say real things and mean them without having to feel like it is in an inappropriate way.  Letters are meant for words.  And to see it handwritten!  It is so personal even when it isn't trying to be.

I could sit, day in and day out, and write letters.  I don't mind waiting for the postman to come.  I love receiving letters.  I love knowing that, even in the age of technology, we haven't outgrown letters.  We are not too obsessed with the here-and-now yet to have let them slip from our hands.  The times may have changed, but this hasn't.  Not yet.



So here I sit, waiting for the mail to come...

Hidden Secrets

Somethings

Somethings are for good reason.  Somethings hurt you.  Somethings are scary.  Somethings don't make sense.  Somethings we don't talk about.  Somethings are almost real.  Somethings are so real that it kills you.  Somethings break you down.  Somethings build you up.  Somethings are different.  Somethings will always be the same.  Somethings never know change.  Somethings change before your eyes.  Somethings are true.  Somethings are fun.  Somethings are meant to never be more than that.  Somethings are superficial.  Somethings are deep.  Somethings seem like they shouldn't happen.  Somethings are transcendent.  Somethings are wonderful.  Somethings you can depend on.



Somethings are short.  They explode into our lives and then vanish without a trace.  They're intriguing.  Meant only to make a moment of our lives more beautiful.  Sometimes, they leave an impact on life and while they're gone from sight, they last forever in our minds.


Somethings are unexplainable.  Random, spontaneous, but in these moments we find the truest aspects of our character.  We learn who we are when we're not thinking.  Who we are when we release ourselves and just let go.  We find what is natural.  What is waiting to arise.  In these moments, we make the biggest mistakes of our lives.  In these moments, come the most dramatic triumphs.


Somethings are fake.  They are false and have every intention of bringing us down.  They deceive and cheat.  They hide themselves for fear of rejection.  These things are the most difficult to spot, the most frustrating to deal with, and the things that we must avoid as best we can.


Somethings last forever.  They're permanent in our mind, because they are the defining moments of our lives.  They shape who we will become from the moment they begin.  These things are what we get out of bed for.  They are the spark that lights a twinkle in our eyes.  They're the smile on our face.


Nothing is meaningless.  Sometimes, things happen for no reason more than to put a smile on our face.  Somethings happen to teach us a lesson.  To help us grow.  But nothing produces no effect.  Nothing comes from something.  Everything is for a reason.

Glitter For Just A Moment

"All the world is made of faith, trust, and pixie dust."

J.M. Barrie



I once heard that giving pieces of your heart to others is not a good thing.  For a person who loves many people and places, when you give parts of you away, you are left with hardly anything in return.  Your friends may be scattered across the country and your home may be in two different places or it could be around the world. When you love that much, little pieces of your heart are everywhere.  There is no real way to get them back.

I learned from a very special person that hearts should not be made breakable.  Instead, hearts are like bags of glitter.  Wherever you go and whoever you meet along the way, you sprinkle a little bit of your sparkle.  And if that person or place is really special, they are able to shine a bit brighter.

My heart is not breakable.  My heart is scatterable, sticking firmly to those who reflect light.

She Is

A Little Change

I have never really been one for change.  I am always comfortable with the way things are, even if I am not content with them.  I like to know where everything is and how everything is.  When change comes, so does my anxiety.

I have not been pleased with the way that my room has looked for a few years.  Yet, I never did anything about it.  Everyday I would wake up to pictures of people who are no longer my friends, walk around to see reminders of friends who are no longer there, and go to sleep with the images of friends that I am no longer in touch with.  Every visual in my room was of places and people that do not bring happy memories.  Each picture was a reminder of loneliness and pain that I had to go through before I could get to be the person that I am today.

It has been three years and I am pleased to announce that there are only good memories in my room now.  The pictures are current and of people who mean the world to me.  My people, my life.

I was fearful of changing the appearance of my room.  I felt like it was going to trigger some sort of change that would be irreparable.  But it didn't.

A little change never hurt anybody.

143

I love you.
That's my secret.
No hearts.
No pretty drawings.
No poems or cryptic messages.
I love you.

Postsecret

I Have Worries To Give To The Sea

Are you feeling, feeling, feeling like I'm feeling

Like I'm floating, floating, up above that big blue ocean?

Sand beneath our feet, big blue sky above our heads.

No need to keep

 stressing from our everyday life on our minds.

We have got to leave all that behind.

The Avett Brothers, "At The Beach"