Thoughts

She thought about him 

all the time. 

What he is like now. 

What he was like back then. 

And what her life would have been like if she stayed. 

She thought they had met at the wrong time in life. 

But She knew that he was just a temporary escape. 

They were that, and just that, for each other. 

Their story wasn't a love story. 

Then or now. 

..Or ever. 

He was an escape. 

That was it. 

That sort of, once the sun comes up, she tiptoes out the door and just holds on to that exhilarating feeling of the moment until next time. 

There were years in between all the next times. 

Which was fine. 

Which was perfect. 

This wasn't a "finally one day they realized this was it and lived happily ever after" type thing. 

She had believed there was never that type of thing out there for anyone. 

And she hated anyone who believed different. 

Well, maybe not hated, but she definitely felt sorry for them.  

He wasn't her answer. 

She didn't know what her answer was.

 Maybe there isn't one. 

Worth the Risk

As she looked at him, she knew it wasn't worth it. She laughed inside. She knew she was going to walk away. Not yet. In a moment. He thought he was worth it. For that moment at least. For her the risk was too great now, which added to the intensity inside of her. She wondered if he could see her heart beating in her throat. The thought of it was intoxicating. But she was also all sorts of intoxicated and that made her ready to leave. 

She knew he could see her heart racing now. She could hear it pounding over the loud music. "Run!" She could hear herself yelling inside. "Run!" But her feet didn't move. 

Once their lips touched she knew she would lose. She would fall. Not in love, but into something far more debilitating. She didn't fall in love. Not anymore at least. Because she fell so easily out of it. She breathed deep, hoping to inflate her chest so much that she would just float away. This wasn't a new feeling. She knew she would fall too deep to dig herself back out. The rush of it all didn't out weigh the risk. Yet still she couldn't move. 

She waited for her phone to ring or buzz or do anything. No one would call or text her though. No one knew where she was or what she was doing. This was her plan all along. If she couldn't be found than she would remain lost. Lost and alone. Something about this felt so liberating. So she just stood there smiling. Knowing.

((work.in.progress))

 

The Myth of Soul Mates

((This is a piece I am working on The Myth of Soulmates. A mixed up romantic montage of love and unloved stories. This is an excerpt.)) 

Some may think this is a depressing and cynical thought but I don't really believe in soul mates. Well, let me clarify that. I don't believe we are put on this earth for one person. I don't think we are meant to spend our lives with one person either. I think we are meant to love many people in our lives. Partner-wise, I mean. Obviously we love a lot of people throughout our lives.  

I think of this as very romantic, though. Think about all of the relationships you have had in your life. From first loves to long term to even one night stands. When you think about it, each of these relationships, no matter how small or short, have taken a significant part of your life, shaping you for your next adventure in love. 

In my opinion, heartbreak is the most real emotion a human can feel. And I think everyone needs to feel it. The figurative scar tissue left on the heart is what molds people. It makes your heart strong. Because who knows, someone may come into your life and need a strong heart to help them. 

You know what I think is the romantic part of it all. Knowing all of this. That there are no soul mates. That you were not put on this earth to be with that one person. That we could love so many people in our lives and the possibilities are endless. But the most romantic part of it all is that most of us, despite having the world, evolution, everything against us, we still chose one person. And we work so hard in loving that person for the rest of our lives. That kind of love doesn't come easy. That kind of love is so easy to walk away from, to take advantage of. That kind of love is more work that play. But we still do it every day some do it for 50 years or more. We chose to love that one person. To give them the rest of our lives. That is where the romance is. 

Day Four: Broken Resolutions

((Half written nonsense is what I really want to title this. I have no clue where this narrative would go. So I am just putting it out there unfinished and unedited. That's what this whole project is, I guess. I feel I still need to say "sorry this sucks."))

Confetti littered the floor, along with all the resolutions that were bound to be broken by mid January. She stood there next to him wondering if they could really be this happy. Would their resolution be broken soon too? At this moment, it didn't seem to matter. They kept smiling at each other like the past few years hadn't happened yet. There was so much hope in the air. Hope for the new year, new beginnings, new love. She imagined that if they tried hard enough, everything would be new this time around.

It was hours into the new year. They didn't talk in fear that this magic would disappear. Instead they danced and drank and looked and laughed. They knew it was ridiculous to be this way. Their age, their history, to be acting young and free. But for that night it was all they could do to save something, anything they had left. So they drank and danced and laughed some more.

The next morning came too quickly. She laid there thinking maybe it would have been better if the night failed. Instead of the dancing and kissing and hopefulness that filled the night, it could have just tanked. This would have made the next morning better. It would have made the goodbye easier. Now there is no goodbye. Some would think that was a good thing. She worried now when the end would come. Would it come? It felt like it was already here but then last night happened. She was afraid to feel hope even though it's the only thing what swirled her heart and head. 

Day Three: What I have gained this year

What did I gain this year? Weight. A lot of it. I would guess about fifteen pounds. And I'm not about to lose it.

God, no! I'm not pregnant.

I have made a list of ten things I want to do in 2015. Some vague, some specific. Some professional, some personal. Other just spontaneous and fun. None are to lose weight. I'm OK with that. I actually love it. Yeah, I tried here and there to lose a few pounds. Yes, I got really aggravated when my favorite jeans magically became much tighter over the course of a couple months. But over all I feel good. Even with some added muffin-top!

CONFESSION: My cousin got married in November. I was planning on wearing the same dress that I wore in January for my sister-in-law's wedding. Eleven months between the weddings. No biggie. Two days before flying to my cousin's in Florida, I tried on the dress, forcing the zipper to close. With a sharp pain to exhale, I could feel the zipper rip. Not only rip open but teeth breaking off of it. Obviously, I got overly emotional and upset. Not so much that I had gained weight and just ripped open the zipper of my dress, more that I was to fly out in two days and definitely didn't have time or money to get a new one! So I took it to the tailor's to see if they could fix it. They put on a wider zipper. I widened my dress. This would be depressing to most, but I'm not going to lie, I like it better now than I did in January. I looked damn good! I got an ass that just won't quit!

I am not saying that I plan on gaining more weight in 2015. I do have goals to eat healthier. Because the stack of Oreos I had for dinner last night isn't helping anyone. But to lose weight? No, not a priority. My sister is getting married this coming year. Normally for a wedding, my mentality would be to fast for the next six months and pray that I don't look like a whale in whatever bridesmaid's dress I would have to squeeze my ass into. However, I have the COOLEST sister who is allowing me to pick any dress I like. I don't have to match anyone, pick a certain style, have my whole body wrapped in satin and tulle. I can find a dress that flatters myself and no one else. Her only requirement is that the dress be white. ((Don't worry, Emily. My dream to Pippa Middleton your wedding went out the door with those extra six Oreos I ate last night.))

My favorite thing about my body? First, that it made a human! And a kick-ass one at that! I have 30 extra pounds, stretch marks and bags under my eyes to prove it! I have spent the past three years caring for his little growing body that mine has been on the sidelines. Not to say that it can't be done. Getting back to pre-baby is no longer a priority or necessity for me. I have tons of Facebook friends who post pictures proving that you can work out and be healthy with a kid. The healthy eating thing I have down. I am raising a self-proclaimed vegetarian. Although, like I said before, my own eating could be a bit better. But I love seeing these posts. The ones of friends doing yoga with their kids, becoming certified fitness instructors, posting meal plans and inviting me to join in on all the fun. This is one of the reasons I love Facebook. The sense of community and support is real. People reaching out to help others. It's amazing, and I'm thankful for it.

I am thirty years old. I am five feet tall. I weight about 160 pounds. This year I gained a new decade, no inches, and (possibly) fifteen pounds. Guess what else I gained..

I gained confidence in starting a new soul-healing journey (therapy).
I gained new experiences and failures.
I gained the feeling of accomplishment in many areas of my life.
I gained professional experiences in different fields of work, expanding my own networks.
I gained love, heartache, new friends, new family, and a whole lot of inspiration.

I plan on gaining much more from all of this in 2015. I am excited for what the next year will bring. I am excited for new adventures in all aspects of my life. I am excited to continue to show Vedder the many different sized packages happiness can come in.

Goodbye, 2014. I am so grateful for you.
Hello, 2015! Let's do this!!

Day two: I write.. and write.. and write.

Lately it's all I can do to scribble/type all theses thoughts down in my head. I am working on a very personal piece right now that i hope to make into something. My brother is the only one who has read its very rough beginning. It's a story so bottled up inside that it explodes out in spurts. There are a few problems though. One, I can't get down everything fast enough. It's very raw and real. And sometimes it makes me nervous and other times it makes me smile more than I should. Two, because it's so raw and real it is hard to share with literally anyone. People will think things, interpret it to mean more than It may mean. Like I said, my brother is the only one who has read it because of the fact that he can look at it with more of a literal content and editorial eye. I am writing it because it is living inside me. But I don't know yet of that means it's should be living anywhere else either.

I get that this entry (and maybe yesterday's) makes this whole Page-A-Day thing look like another work for keeping a diary. Maybe that's exactly all it will turn into. Today I did write a page/quick moment for the play I spoke of above. But like I also said before, I can't share it with the public yet. 

I'll leave you with one line.. 

"God. We were so young. We had kissed so many times before that. And so many after. But that one kiss. It set me free." 

Day One: I hate New York.. kind of.

Clean lines and bright lights

Fifty shades of gray streets

Eight million people

Eight million strangers

Eight million agendas

Fleeting cabs and connections

Souls lost and found among it all

-me. 12.08.14

Have you ever heard the song "New York City is Killing Me" by Ray LaMontagne? First, I love Ray. Everything about him. His look, his voice, his lyrics, his soul. You feel every word he sings. That is an artist. Anyways, I love that song because I feel that song 95% of the time I am here in the city. 

I get so tired of all this concrete.

I get so tired of all this noise.
Gotta get back up in the country,
And have a couple drinks with the good ole' boys.

I just got to get me somewhere,
Somewhere that I can be free,
Get me out of New York City, son,
New York City's killin' me.

I have this very passionate love/hate relationship with this city. I moved here for the love of two things, theatre and a guy. They both are still very prominent in my life now six years after being here, one more than the other. But that is for another day.

There are days when I could so easily pack up and leave, when I feel like there is nothing but cold concrete hearts filling this ugly city. Then I find a spark, a small fleeting light that catches my eye. Like the sun hit the city just right and I am a cat chasing the reflection across the.. I want to say city again but that won't work. The word block won't work either because it's bigger than that. Borough just doesn't sound right either. I will come back to that failed metaphor later. 

Anyway, there is that moment that happens maybe once a month, more now than it ever did before. It probably didn't happen for a few years and I guess that was when I was so engulfed in other parts of my life that when I re-awoke, I found most of my creative being had died. But then that moment happened. A soul-awakening magical and inspiring moment that somehow made my anger towards the city easier to swallow and instead use it towards something productive. It happens on the train, I'll read a word or hear a song, or see something happen and lines will pop in my head and I will jot endless words down somewhere, anywhere. Or it will be that blood rushing feeling I get after a performance when I could totally rule the whole fucking world. 

And then I leave the city for a bit, to get air. It is truly amazing how good fresh air tastes from the ocean or the mountains. And while I gulp all that in I think, I need to be here not there, there not here, anywhere but no where. What the hell am I doing with my life? What would I do next? 

What do I do next?