Thursday, December 31, 2009

Heart Versus Head

Just because you're happy, does not mean it's real. When you find what is real, happiness eventually finds you.

Since when does the latter take the lead?

When Did This Robot Come To Life Again?

It's unfair that he misses her back. This is supposed to be unrequited love, don't you get it? It's not unrequited if the feelings are there underneath the emptiness. 

You haven't felt this much in a year.  

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Falling Out Of Love's Not For Everyone

As much as her heart revolts against the thought, as bloodshot as her eyes are and as wet as her cheekbones feel against the back of her hand, it's time to find something new to write about. 

But we have to pretend, don't we?

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Winter Is Warm This Year

He woke her up to tell her it was snowing. She used to hate the snow.

She was smiling. 

Thursday, December 17, 2009

We're All Sad. What's New?

Broken legs can be replaced. Can't say as much for broken hearts. 

Best friends means friends forever. 
Remember? I never left. 

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

It's Too Late, Love

She could no longer feel her heart palpitate incessantly while he was near.  It hurt for some inexplicable reason, but there was no room for questioning it any longer.  It is what it is.  Or more specifically, it's not what it's not.  He had pushed further away than she could have ever expected.  What's the use in waiting if you're waiting on nothing? 

"Nothing's absolutely definite until it's absolutely, definitely gone."
She hasn't slept or dreamt in a year. Goodbye, Love. 

Thursday, November 19, 2009

She Said, "I've Been Waiting For That..."

She found the scrap of paper, crinkled between the pages of her sketchbook. The folds and creases were seemingly endless until she finally reached the meaning. Nothing has ever rang more true and she desperately needed to remember this feeling. "And I am content to walk a little slower because there is nowhere that I really need to be. But these are days we dream about when the sunlight paints us gold. And this apartment could not be prettier as when we danced up there alone. This t.v. is old, the color's fucked. Do you see the difference in the shades? But the green is still close to green, my love. And I believe we are the same. And we'll stay like this, all gold and green."  The lyrics comforted her heart and put her mind at ease. Everything's fine, baby girl. Stop worrying, and live. 

He said, "I hope she's still patient with me."

Friday, November 13, 2009

The Fall Of A Friendship Like This Is Like The Fall Of A Tree When No One Is Around; Welcome To Make Believe, Darling. This Friendship Never Existed.

She sat on her bed, letting her legs dangle in the stale air of fallacy. The delicate manner in which she handled the old book was ineffable. Why was she so careful with this one? "Please take care of me," it begged of her. A strand of her long, auburn hair fell to her face from behind her ear. She sighed and lifted her heavy hand to involuntarily replace the wandering strands. Her gaze turned downward and her vision became blurry--a feeling she was all too familiar with the past year. Choking back the sharp hint of new tears, she held her breath and opened the book in her well worn hands. The cover had taken a perpetual beating from continuously falling off that precariously laid shelf.The pages were wrinkled and used. Nonetheless, the words--some barely recognizable through a year's worth record of teardrops--are ingrained in her mind. She knew what the story meant. It was a quest for something real; something real to understand and be a part of, but where could 'real' be found? It had meant so much to her and so little to him. The friendship was nothing more than a white lie. Something imagined. Something to stretch the truth. You want the definition? It's the only way in which you think, always asking for proof. Well, Love, 'real' is compassion and friendship and love and understanding and a sense of something true. Did you not find that here?

So, go ahead and wrack your mind for the single most real thing in your life. You won't find any notion of it; it's gone. Imagined. Fake. Pretend. Make believe. It never existed because you refuse to open those robotic eyes of yours.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

A Friend Lost Is Like A Day Without Sun

No one will ever get that close to me again.

Not even you.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Part II

She had no more fight left in her. She had absolutely nothing to say anymore and he had exhausted every ounce of her much too giving heart.

Someone please tell me it's not worth it. I need a legitimate excuse that I can believe. I need it. Please.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Wouldn't It Be Nice? Well, Now You Won't Hear Her Whistling Anymore

And again, he forced her to watch him drive away down the road, without looking back. The tires kicking up dust, sprinkling her red dress that he was supposed to love. Her heart sighed heavily and for a heartbreakingly silent second, the world thought it imagined her speaking something so soft and broken, "Maybe we'll meet again, love." But, she dropped her head, held her tongue, forgot the song, tied her shoe and started walking off.

It was a long year. Try two more...or don't.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Swallowing Her Heart, As Per Usual

"Mama said, 'You only fall in love once'". No need to rush things, baby girl. You've got all the time in the world.

Forever. You said, 'Forever'. Remember that? 

It's Difficult To Quit Being Happy While You're Still Happy

She didn't understand. Actions speak louder than words; you were just as happy as her.

Her heart had never been happier; but she put the book back on the dusty shelf, right where he wants it. Maybe he'll finish reading it someday. Someday.

Monday, October 26, 2009

She Said 'Madly' And They Danced For Nine Minutes And Thirty-Six Seconds

She had been harboring this broken heart for over a year. But she doesn't ever remember a time where he was without his tape, wrench or hammer; desperately trying to repair the shattered mess he had created. Every break, every crack, every rip, every tear. And just as he was in a constant state of rebuilding, so was she; it was something they needed to do together. With each repair he made, she was able to use her heart again for something different:  finding her long forgotten, pure, undiluted happiness; discovering the routes of remorse and forgiveness;  coming to terms with her own faults and practicing a lifestyle to eradicate them. But ultimately, she had come to the true understanding of the word, 'love'. She had said it all along, but after over 400 days, she finally had a tight grasp on the concept and vowed to never let it slip through her fingers again. 

Holding her close, swaying to the music and singing those lyrics about long hair and underwear...Nothing is unforgivable, Love. This is a 'thank you'.

Unconditional Faith, Hope And Love? Give Me A Pen, I Could Write A Book

It had been a long time since she had felt the softness in his brown eyes. It was so thick and tangible that she could literally feel a warm blanket of velvet being draped over her heart as it melted into those familiar butterflies. God, had she forgotten how beautiful the fluttering of their wings felt inside her stomach. 

After all, he did tell her, "Everything will be okay in the end."  

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Sometimes Life Doesn't Work Out

She needed something new to write about.

They were never going to the park.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Puzzles And Hearts And Color And Everything That Falls Into Line Thereafter

Her whole life, she had seen the world in black and white. And she probably always will. Her heart will always tell her what feels right and what feels wrong; that is just how she is. There will never be gray areas. But one night, a whisper began furiously pulling at her heartstrings. "You should try seeing the world in color...it's beautiful." She knew there was truth in this because color is the essence of purity and passion. The slow transition of blending colors is gorgeous; fading into each other at exactly the right time, each color maintaining the exact amount of its own pigment, but giving enough of itself to satisfy the other. Too much red and it turns a deep orange. Too little red and the orange begins to look a pale yellow. Color and love are interchangeable words. The two colors must know what to give up for each other and what to hold onto for themselves. Perhaps, the world is not as two toned as she had once thought. But then again, maybe it still is. Maybe the base of everything is in black and white. Maybe she is beautifully blessed to have the heart of a child, basing the world around her off of pure, undiluted feeling. Maybe the colors come together in time.

Besides, the picture on the box only comes together in the end. And it is beautiful.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Neither Of Us Needs Words; I Guess I Forgot

It was one of those cool summer nights that aren't hard to come by in this town. He didn't have to tell her, she already knew where he was headed. She drove the long way, slowly turning five miles into fifty. They were always doing that. What was the rush, anyhow? The river was quiet at night. Quiet and beautiful. The kind of beautiful you don't see in the movies. Everything about this place was unconventional, at best. She could spot his dingy green car from a mile away, it had character...and that sunroof. The motor was off and the driver's seat was reclined so intensely that it had already made its way into the backseat. She knew his eyes weren't closed; he was thinking. She opened the door and without a word, sat down next to him, reclining her seat to match his. There was something strangely comfortable about the way they communicated. Words were rarely exchanged and she never found it odd. Silence was golden to them; he understood what she meant, and she understood just the same. How that came to be, they will never know. And in retrospect, I don't think they ever cared. It had always been this way. The book was on her lap: beaten, dirty, and so dog-eared that there was not a page without meaning. They had no idea what they were going to do. Think, I suppose. But, in the silence, his hand reached over the book and found hers. They would make it through. They always did.

This is an apology.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

I've Never Walked Away From Something I Care About...

For the past ten months, the fifteenth always came and went with no particular meaning anymore. It killed her every time. All she could think of were his lyrics, "All eyes on the calendar. Another year I claim of total indifference. To here, the days pile up with decisions to be made; I'm sure all of them were wrong. Into this song, I send myself and with these drinks I plan to collapse and forget this wasted year. These wasted years: devoted friends, they disappear. I'm sorry about the phone call and needing you. Some decisions you don't make. I guess it's like breathing and not wanting to. There are some things that you can't fake. I guess that it is typical to cling to memories you'll never get back again. And to sort through old photographs of a summer long ago. Or a friend that you used to know. And there, below his frozen face, you wrote the name and that ancient date. And you can't believe he is really gone, when all that's left is a fucking song. I'm sorry about the phone call and waking you. I know that its late, but thank you for talking because I needed to. Some things just can't wait."

...That's what cowards do.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

I Don't Believe In Love

I'll never stop missing you.

And she cried herself to sleep again.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Please Let Me Hit Rewind



















And I hear you saying this to me:













But you want me to do this, like you:














And I can't...because when she's around, this is how you make me feel:




















Somehow, the puzzle pieces got warped. And no matter how many times the clock turns 11:11, there's no turning back time to stop the bucket of water from spilling all over and making a grand mess of our fate.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Put One Foot In Front Of The Other

Trusting him was like breathing; completely involuntary.













Be careful now, baby girl. Don't mess this up. You like smiling, don't you? He'll hold out his hand when he's ready.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

You'll Never Realize How Much You'll Miss The Sun Until You've Felt It On Your Fingertips

Every time she closed her eyes, she could feel his fingers lace themselves between her own. He held her close to his chest because he knew. She would indeed be gone by sunrise. She ran her fingertips along the smooth contours of his body, committing each touch to memory. He smiled and they breathed each others' air. Sweet as honey and salty as the sea.

Departure leaves such a bittersweet taste. Goodbye, love.

The More You Trust, The More You Doubt



















One day I will make this decision. One day.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Tug-Of-War

She had spent the past few weeks frolicking in a dream world that so gracefully collided with reality; but, he wasn't as sure as she had thought.

This is my heart.

Monday, July 13, 2009

This New Heart

Sometimes you get tired of the constant game. And sometimes it's not worth it as much as you thought it was. And sometimes you don't feel anything.

Scar tissue grows back ten times as thick as the original skin it's healing. Same rules apply for the heart. At least you tried.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

You Don't Learn This In School



















I find myself smiling all the time.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

I Put It All On Black



















And I don't regret it.

Shades Of Grey

Some days, she couldn't bring herself to write, because some days she remembered she was hurt. She could hear the song in her head, the lyrics running smoothly and silently across her lips, "Don't follow your heart, cause it just seems to get in your way". But the lyrics were wrong. The only thing that gets in your way is your head. Your heart will always lead you to what is right.

Black and white, baby girl. You remember, don't you?

Monday, June 29, 2009

Patchwork

She sat on that rocking bench with the book in her lap, feeling the heartfully missed 85 degree summer breeze scatter her hair across her face. She reached up, to tuck the mischievous strands behind her ear, and felt the flower.

She smiled.




Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Lost And Found: Smiles And Sunshine And Everything In Between

Every window was rolled down and the sun was beating down on her through the open sunroof. The air was breezing past her as she drove along the highway; the radio barely audible over the sweet tasting sounds of the summer drive. She felt happy. The kind of happy that she had been so blatantly missing the past year. It was the kind of happy that she so vividly remembered, but could never completely grasp. And now she finally felt it. God, was she happy.

Her heart was overflowing.

Monday, June 22, 2009

I Miss The Way Summertime Used To Feel

She thanked God that her heart knew her better than she had thought.



















And now she knew she would be happy again.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

The Boy Who Cried Wolf

She had hoped for one thing far too long. At 11:11, she always kissed the clock; her wish never changed. And now her fantasy wish was catching up with her. She could no longer differentiate between reality and her dreams. Is it possible for them to finally be merging again?

No. Keep your hopes down, baby girl. It's not over until it's over.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

"I'm Missing Your Laugh, How Did It Break? And When Did Your Eyes Begin To Look Fake? I Hope You're As Happy As You're Pretending..."

She blankly stared at the ceiling. Her arm slowly dropped back down into the forgotten comfort of her bed.

The wall is empty at night when there is no one by your side to laugh at shadow puppets with you.

Friday, June 19, 2009

A Year Goes By So Slowly, And Look What It's Done

I remember when I knew this was true.



















Somewhere along the way, you forgot.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Circle The Thing That Is Not Like All The Others (This Summer)

She could no longer start her stories with, "It was one of those summer days..." because summer kisses are nonexistent when you've got no summer and no one to kiss.

Summer was over before it began.

My Heart May Be Broken, But You Can Still Read Each Piece

Love [ˈləv] n. :

Forgiveness, sacrifice, admiration, affection, enthusiasm, unselfish, loyal;
love is patient, love is kind, love is never envious or arrogant with pride, nor is it conceited; benevolent concern for the good of another; tenderness; holding hands; assurance, passion; the deep ineffable feeling of tenderly caring for another person; friendship, trust; bright eyes; honesty, humor, feeling whole; love is not resentful, love is always glad to side with truth; there is no limit to love and it shall never fail; love is never tired of waiting, love is kind, love has no envy, love takes no thought for itself.

Love has the power of undergoing all things, having faith in all things, hoping all things.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

I Never Feel Happy Anymore

There is nothing more sad than feeling the pain of tears welling up in your eyes. There is nothing more sad than waking up from a dream where everything seemed real and you were happy again. There is nothing more sad than being surrounded by paintings and a forgotten scrap of paper. There is nothing more sad than knowing he's sound in his decision to let it all slip through his fingers. There is nothing more sad than breathing.

Nothing.

It's Easier Not To Breathe

She knew it would go like this. It would be impossible for him at first, but as the days went on, he would think less and less of her. Until she was completely forgotten. It's not right to force these threads apart. It's not right.

It's not right.

Monday, June 15, 2009

My Life Is Exactly Like The Movies

She glanced at the rose, hanging from the wall. Today, it would be three years and one month exactly. Something about it caught her in a trance, a daydream. She remembered that night, and feeling her face get hot, and she remembered wrapping her arms around his neck. God, what did that smell like again? She may never know, and these petals will never fall. But she'll let it hang there all winter long. Year after year after year. And the sad truth in all the fairytales is that there is always a page in the book that reads, "Many years later..."

But the prince saves the princess in the end, right?

Sunday, June 14, 2009

You'll Never Leave Where You Are Until You Figure Out Where You'd Rather Be

It is impossible to be in love with someone, yet sacrifice your heart for another. You will go through life and fall madly in love with one person. One. And if you let it slip, all you have left is something to settle for. You catch and release the best gift life has to offer. She had known him thoroughly from the day she laid eyes on him. He knew her just the same. God had stitched their hearts together, and he was forcing the threads apart. When he said he didn't know where he'd rather be, she knew he was lying. What had happened to the heartbeat in the chest of the hopeless romantic she once laid her ear upon? Heart versus head. Since when does the latter take the lead?

He knew all along. He knows. Yet, he keeps pretending he doesn't. It is a shame to wait until tomorrow.

"It's To Dying In Another's Arms And Why I Had To Try It"

It wasn't the majestic kind of rain, it was the kind of heart wrenching rain that makes you grab your chest in pain as each drop sizzles on the summer sidewalk. As she sat on that porch, she rocked incessantly back and forth in that old chair that mimicked the unrelenting echo in her heart. She looked down at her weathered, frail hands, delicately tracing each wrinkle with her own finger. Each crease showed years of sacrifice, love and the devastation of a broken heart. She had waited for years. He never came back for her. He just let her get away. She slowly intertwined her own fingers, so that they were laced with each other. She leaned her head back and sighed one last, heartbreaking "I love you" with her last breath. She had grown old with memory at seventeen, and he was never coming back.

The End.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

And This Is So Difficult For The Both Of Us

She had read Shakespeare in high school and it was coming back to her like the sharp hint of new tears.

"The course of true love never did run smooth"

Friday, June 12, 2009

You Are Blind And I Am Leaving

"Be a gentleman", she said "Let me bow out gracefully"

Here's all your stuff back.





















The Assignment Was To Capture Something Intangible, I Captured Pain

And you say you don't keep my heart on a string?

You're heartless.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

The Archer's Finger

What hurt her the most is how he would never address her pain.

What are friends for anyway?

It's Hard To Look On The Bright Side When Your Path Is Darkened By Clouds

She was thinking what a sad thing it was to only know happiness on a short term basis. She carried that umbrella around all summer, just waiting for that day. She knew it was coming. She just wasn't sure when. Everything up until that point had been happy and good for her broken heart. It was mending. She could feel it. But that same dark cloud that emanated sadness always found a way to break it apart again, piece by piece. It was a forever long process. Forever is such a long word.

She didn't even know what she was waiting for anymore. She thought it was happiness, but it could just as well be pain.

Saturday, May 30, 2009

Eeyore

What if everything she ever believed in was nothing but a pretty lie? What if everything she ever felt amounted to absolutely nothing? The book was clenched in her hands so tightly, her knuckles were slowly turning from a violent red to an ashen white. What does the ending mean? Smeared by countless nights of tears, she could barely read the words anymore, but she knew them by heart. It was a story she read again and again, but the ending was never the same. It changed with every day, every hour, every second. It will never be over. The story is never going to end.

I hope you brought an umbrella, baby girl, because your world is about to come crashing down. Again.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

The Importance Of One Second

And just like that, it was all taken away from her.

Disguise a broken heart as best you can. You'll learn you can fool everyone but yourself.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Remember Those Intricate Stories Of Boys Asking Girls To Prom? I Promise, Mine Is Much Better

She got into her car and turned the key in the ignition. Her windows were already rolled down from the previous drive; ah, to live in suburbia during the summertime. She was halfway home when something white on the floor caught the corner of her eye. She waited impatiently until she pulled into her driveway to see what it was. She turned the car off. "Well, I trip over everything you say" still screaming through the stereo. It's as if he had planned it that way. It was a package, wrapped in newspaper, secretly slipped through the passenger window. Tearing the newspaper open, she found the most beautiful painting of a rose gently sitting atop sheets of music drenched in the most heart throbbing golden yellow her eyes had ever witnessed. The gorgeous rage that was occurring in her heart was inexplicable and her smile was uncontrollable. She could no longer feel her feet on the ground, and she didn't mind a bit. Her mother had always said, "Fall for a boy who can sweep you off your feet" This is, without question, the happiest she had ever been. She was falling for a boy who was falling for her. Staring at the painting, now framed above her bed, she can smile. This is what it feels like to be that happy again. Hold onto it this time, kid.

Just be happy with what you have.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Forgiveness Is Pertinent In Matters Of The Heart

It was one of those cloudless sunny days. And the sky was such a magnificent shade of blue, that staring up at its euphonic beauty almost made you dizzy. They were swinging on that weathered, wooden bench; their feet dragging endlessly in the water lapping up against the shore. The sounds of summer were intoxicating her eardrums; the incessant creaking of the swing, the wind making its way across the pond and the steady beating of their hearts. She was upset, but couldn't remember why. She was always doing this. Without looking at her, he sensed the sadness welling up in her eyes, "Does the good outweigh the bad?" He cared - it was like a beautifully broken record, he always had and always would - so why did she continuously scramble to find fault in him? He cared and that should have been enough. He cared. She turned to him and smiled, "Yes" Years later, she would recall this memory and realize that not everything is as bad as it seems. She had wasted so much of her life being unsatisfied with something perfect. A lesson had been learned. He loved her and she loved him. What else mattered?

Nothing is unforgivable, love.

Monday, May 18, 2009

I Would Use The Word 'Madly' Again If I Could

It was as if God wanted to give her hope, or destroy her. She was having trouble determining which made more sense. But, as with other things, she knew. There was just a questioning passion about her. Why must she always question everything? In the back of her mind she could hear the priest, in his bland voice, explaining the truth about love. But she already knew. "The purest definition of love is making someone else's feelings more important than your own. It is the pain you feel when they are not happy, and the joy you feel when they are. The truth about love is sacrifice. Sacrificing everything you have for the good of the other person" She had been trying to trip herself. But the more she tried, the more evident the truth was.

There is no falling out of love.

Everything I Have Done Up Until This Point

It doesn't happen often, but when it does, she remembers that night. She was never good at expressing herself when she was distant from him. She felt it was necessary to look into his quiet brown eyes to understand his heart. "Please, just show me how you feel", she would plead with them. That night, they kept saying the words over and over, but nothing was being accomplished. In tears, she asked him to wait. Quickly, she grabbed her keys and ran into the rain to her car. It was five in the morning. She couldn't make him hurt this bad, she had to show him with her eyes. He was standing in the driveway when her tires splashed across the asphalt. She got out of the car, leaving the door ajar, and walked right up, close enough to touch him. It smelled like summer, with the sharp hint of new tears. "Please forgive me", was all she spoke. He could see the evident pain in her eyes and knew that she had never meant to hurt him. It was almost funny how things such as this were so important to her. She was just standing there, her tears beautifully distinct from the raindrops that streamed across her face. He grabbed her and held onto her tightly. She could smile again.

I could never fight with you. You are always right.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

I Gave You The Only Copy I Ever Had Of The Poem I Wrote For You. Now I'm The Only One Growing Old With Memory.

How long had it been there? Every last one of her secrets compressed under the springs of a mattress. She opened the notebook and felt an immediate sense of nostalgia. How could it be that she was this happy such a short time ago? Before closing it (and vowing to never open it again for fear of reopening the fresh wounds lining her heart) she saw a sliver of blue peering out between the white pages, lined in blue. She pulled the scrap of blue paper out, confused. She had no recollection of writing the words, but it was her handwriting and most absolutely her memories; exactly as she saw it in her head every morning: "I remember three things from that car ride. Kissing the clock for the first time at 11:11 for the only reason I've been kissing it since, best friends means friends forever and never hurting to kiss someone so badly in my life"

I'm sorry that my teardrop smeared the last few words. But you know what they said.

Thursday, April 30, 2009

Silent Night, Holy Night, All Is Calm, All Is Bright

It would always happen after he had been kneeling for a while. The tears would fall silently, as if they themselves were trying desperately to be a secret. They would stream down his face like they were a pencil point slowly studying the contours of his beautifully crafted cheekbones, all the way down to that breathtaking jaw. But she never had to actually see this tragic display of heartache, because she could feel it. His pain was her pain. Her hand involuntarily found his, while his fingers reached up to touch the gold ring hanging from his neck. She knew there was nothing she could do for him that he couldn't do for himself. So, she sat with him a while and then asked him how he felt.

Sometimes the heart of a friend is just enough. "Just hold my hand, I think that would help"

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Did You Feel That Tug At Your Heart? Maybe You Could Use A Bobber (Just In Case You Miss It)

Those days, it always seemed to be the most beautiful day of summer. But this day in particular, she remembered the sky being so blue she could taste it on her tongue. Sweet, just like the pink lemonade lingering on his lips. They walked to the dock, in the mutually quiet understanding of the serenity of the sun. The pond was just as blue as the sky, only much richer. As she made her way to the dock, she could feel the fish beginning to question the existence of her toes peering through the pebbles on the shoreline. She felt sorry for what she was going to do, but fishing was something he loved. He cast his line first, perfectly. She was still looking at the Styrofoam cup filled with worms. They were frantically trying to escape, so she tipped the cup over. He never yelled. It was funny to her that he took enough time to explain the nervous systems of both the worms and the fish. They couldn't feel pain. Trusting his word, she baited her hook. But if the worm didn't feel pain, she couldn't understand why it was so tormented by being on the hook. He broke her gaze and grabbed her hands, placing them where they ought to be on his dad's old fishing pole. She remembered all he had taught her from days before, and cast her line. "Perfect", he said "That's where all the best fish are hiding" It was much less than perfect, but she appreciated his warm encouragement. He was always this way with her, gentle and caring. But for the first time in her life, she felt a tug at the line. She wasn't expecting such a pull, she had no idea what to do. "Reel it in!", he was saying "You got one!" Nerves turned into adrenaline and she began to crank the reel back. Finally, she saw it. A fish, not much bigger than the palm of her hand, struggling to get away. Her heart pounded out in pain for the fish. She quickly dropped the pole from her hands and knelt down at the edge of the dock. The hook was in deep. Much deeper than she had expected. She counted to three in her head, gritted her teeth and traced the hook back out of the fish's bleeding mouth. "That didn't hurt?", she asked him. "No, I promise. Now, quick, throw it back in so it can swim back to you later" She put her hands, holding the fish, down into the water and let go. Much to her delight, she watched it as it swam away, hoping it would find its way back home. She cast her line again, but knew that there's no forgetting the first fish you ever catch.

"I had to let it happen and hope that you would find your way back"

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

It's Okay To Dream

Her friends all thought she was either dumb or insane. But she never cared and she couldn't blame them. She didn't expect them to understand. "Tell me your dream", he would say. But she always kept it to herself, knowing it wasn't necessary to transpose her thoughts into words just yet. They had always been this way, quietly knowing the other's heart.

Some things never change.

Saturday, April 25, 2009

Hope Drains Every Ounce Of Happiness From You. Stop Holding Your Breath.

Just as soon as she had found all those old notebooks, she decided to burn them. There was nothing in them that would ever make her feel complete again. Just happy lines scrawled across the page, making her feel more sick than anything, reminding her of all the things she will never feel again. She was tired. It's so difficult to say goodbye to memories.

He wanted her to stop asking questions. How else was she supposed to breathe? Welcome to heartache, baby girl.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Don't Bend The Pieces So They Fit; Take A Seat Across From Me, Puzzles Take Some Time

She walked in and felt a sudden rush of nostalgia. She remembered his bed being pushed up against the wall. Had his mom forgotten that's where it belonged? Her thoughts raced back to that night. The kind of stormy summer night that makes you feel as though happiness is tangible, something your hands are capable of actually grasping. They were laying there, just laying. He took her hand and rolled over on his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows. She did the same. Outside, the raindrops were breaking against the windowpane in a rich, soothing rhythm. Their heartbeats followed suit. He reached above her to open the window; she was watching him. His face was perfectly illuminated by the lightning. My God, he was beautiful. She smiled to herself, knowing everything would always be fine. They both knew.

You say this puzzle is 1000 pieces? I'm no good at math, but if he's trying to repair one, and she's confiding her secrets in the other, that makes 998, right?

Monday, April 20, 2009

I Told You There Would Be Bridges To Cross

She could always feel her heart breaking more for him than for herself. No one else could quite grasp the concept, but she couldn't help how she felt. Don't those pseudo-bohemian artists rage about how conceptually developed you are? Yet you can't understand this? There's more to those lyrics; it's what I've said all along.

"Now angel won't you come by me? Angel, hear my plea. Take my hand, lift me up, so that I can fly with thee"

At Least One Of Us Got Something Out Of It

"You can have it" she would say. Giving him the better half of everything was something that made her happy. But if she learned anything from heartache, it's that sometimes, the right thing to do is the hardest thing to do. It's time to grow up.

I never thought I would be thankful for a broken heart.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

What's The Point Anymore?

The more she thought about it, the more she realized things are never going to change. Maybe this is him now. She always knew what was right, and once she figured that out, she wasn't about to hold onto everything that was wrong. But he was willing to. I guess they are more different than he thought.

"Some things tie your life together, slender threads and things to treasure"

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Here's A Flower That Will Never Die

There's something so happy about the unbelievably odd way they understand each other. Something that others will try to, but never be able to grasp. She was fairly confident that Sweetest Day wasn't an actual day, but he made it one. They spent three hours reading his poems on the floor of that tiny closet in his bedroom. At the time, much like everything else, it seemed normal to them. However, she finds herself wondering if he ever thought it was funny.

It was funny. And they didn't care. Because nothing else mattered.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

She Found The Third Year In The Lucky Bin

She used to think they didn't quite make it through that last year. But lately, she's been thinking maybe they did.

In life, it's necessary to follow your own path for a while, otherwise you'll never figure out who you're supposed to be.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Why Don't You?

It was one of those summer nights that just entirely intoxicated you. They were lying in the grass on that hill, by the far end of the pond. This was home for so long, yet now she frantically grasps for any fragment of that memory...always coming up empty handed. They were wrapped up in those same old childhood blankets. And underneath, they were secretly completely entangled with each other. She loved the nights when the sky was clear and she would see him walk down the stairs, dragging a blanket behind him. She knew it meant a night spent lying here, on this hill, whispering in hushed tones like this. That night, he was talking about dancing to these songs with her one day. But what were they? It's driving her partially insane for not being able to remember. She was praying for an answer. Oh, God, was it something about an angel? I swear, it had to have been. Or maybe it was Bright Eyes; he loved those lyrics, "You said, 'Everything changed' You felt as if you'd just woke up and you said, 'This is the first day of my life. I'm glad I didn't die before I met you. But now I don't care, I could go anywhere with you and I'd probably be happy'" It was definitely something about an angel. Why isn't this coming to me?

She misses being happy.

Monday, April 13, 2009

A Lesson On Give And Take

She was getting tired. In the worst sense of the word.

You can't hold onto nothing, forever.

You Want To Know What A Broken Heart Feels Like? Let Me Show You.

She opened the envelope the moment she saw his car pulling out of the driveway. She knew, even then, that it would be the book he had been writing. The note on top explained, in his perfectly scratchy handwriting, that it was not a memoir of their lives thus far and she should not take it to heart. Because well, a book is just a book, you know. But she did know. And she knew better. She sat in her bed and held onto her knees heartbreakingly tight. Her throat was closing up. She knew this was going to be hard. All she wanted to do was get through the words. Her only thought being, "Please God, just let me get through these words" But her eyes kept blurring, and she couldn't think over the sound of her heart beat. Why was it beating outside of her chest?

When your heart is breaking, breathing is no longer voluntary. It's more painful than you think to remind yourself to breathe, because every breath is laced with heartache. And pretty soon, you quit reminding yourself, because it's just easier that way.

The Center of Everything

It was Christmas Eve and it was snowing. He was standing further away from her than he'd ever felt in his life. He reached out and handed her a thick envelope and he could feel a sharp, constant pain in his heart...it was breaking. She looked at him, with tears falling to the floor, and mascara streaming down her cheekbones. She wanted to run. Or die. She was sitting in that old beat up pink chair, downstairs in some basement that maybe held one too many memories. With what little energy she had left, she reached for the package. It was a golden brown envelope that seemingly so simply contained their entire world. And now it was in her hands. She began opening it, but in a pained voice, he quickly stopped her, "Please, don't...please don't read this in front of me"

He knew how it would hurt her in the worst way, and he didn't have the strength to make her understand.

This Is Not A Billy Joel Quote

"I was waiting the longest time" she said "I thought you forgot" One hundred and fifty seven days had passed, and he'd still not forgotten. How could she think he would forget?

"All those notes you wrote me, I've kept them all"

Sunday, April 12, 2009

It's Getting Late, Mom's Gunna Be Mad. But Who Needs A Car When You've Got The Girl?

She doesn't even remember what they were talking about. But she didn't care, she couldn't take her eyes off that freckle. What was he saying?

"We're talking about our lives, like we've known each other forever"

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Water or Juice Will Be Fine, Thanks

"Chocolate milk?", she would ask. And he would smile and respond, "Sure, chocolate milk." She always made it the same. Drawing a heart at the bottom of the glass with the chocolate syrup, smiling all the while. But he never knew, because she always stirred it up with a spoon.

And she always took the first sip.

Friday, April 10, 2009

You Think You're Dangerous?

He was angry at just about everything superficial but himself. "I thought that if there was one place I could go right now, it would be where I am supposed to be, where I feel at home most, where all my things are, where all my memories are. But it's gone. It's not here", he said. A burning hot tear rolled down her face, singeing her cheekbone. And she sadly forced the words between her gritted teeth and quivering lips, "That is exactly how I feel about you"

Try your strength against the girl who's patched her own heart up just as many times as you've broken it. Proceed with caution.

Nothing Is Ever The Same

Her life quickly became a sad mess. The music was the same, the couch was the same, the movies were the same. But everything changed. And nothing was the same. Nothing made sense to her anymore. And the worst hurt was sitting close enough to touch him, but knowing she never will.

Nothing made sense, and everything changed. Why did you wait so long?

The Scent of Your Clothes Makes Me Sick

She had been waiting for this all along. But it was the worst feeling she had ever possibly experienced.

It's true when they say you can feel your heart breaking. What was simply a figure of speech, just became a devastating reality.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

'Q' Without 'U' is Just As Pointless As A Flower Without Water

It was raining, and she was wearing a pale red dress that used to scream with passion. The color had faded, much like everything else in her life. It clung to her skin, and she came to the painful realization that she had never felt so cold and alone as she did at that moment. He wasn't even watching her in his rearview mirror as he drove away. He just drove. Without looking back once.

She was slowly realizing she had been waiting for nothing all along.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Think With Your Head, Not With Your Heart (You Don't Want To Feel This, Do You?)

"Nothing's absolutely definite until it's absolutely, definitely gone", he said. But he never understood her fatal case of melancholia. And how it's been wearing at her for weeks.

Nostalgia chips away at your heart like waves on a shoreline.

Sundays Used To Be Her Favorite Day of The Week

He grabbed her hand in the backyard, and pulled her alongside of him, running towards the cornfields. He never questioned her perpetual lack of shoes and he always felt a sense of pride watching her run around in her Sunday's Best out of the corner of his eye. They reached a ditch and collapsed in laughter, trying to catch their breath. But did they really ever want to? He showed her the bridge he made when he was younger. "Take my hand", he said.

Trusting him was like breathing; completely involuntary.

Chocolate Chip Pancakes, Eggs, And A Glass of Chocolate Milk

Every Sunday, after church, they would roll the windows down and take the country roads back to his house for a homemade breakfast. She never quite mastered the art of having her hair flow about gorgeously in the wind, but I don't think he ever minded. Every last one of their favorite songs always came on the radio. And they were always so loud, she could taste the passion of the lyrics on the tip of her tongue as they both screamed them out the open windows without a care in the world for harmony or tune.

"I'VE GOT A BAD FEELING ABOUT THIS!"

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Have You Ever Played For Anyone Else? Don't Tell Me You Don't Know How To Be Vulnerable.

She had a bad habit of falling asleep on that weathered couch. But that night, she woke up to him clumsily finding the right chords for the first verse of his song. She knew it all too well.

"You feel like home to me"

"Best Friends Means You Get What You Deserve"

Every day that summer, she would walk into his house, letting the screen door slam behind her. And every day, he would be standing there, waiting, with an orange popsicle in his hand. There's nothing she regrets more than not wrapping her arms around him each time he handed it to her.

Life is rarely, if ever, in black and white. Don't you please see a hint of orange? Please?

Monday, April 6, 2009

She Thought Your Photographs Were Beautiful

Her first kiss was at the movie theater. At some dumb movie, holding some dumb sweaty hand, with some dumb boy that she hasn't ever forgotten.

In between the pages of her sketchbook, she hides the letter you sent her in the mail.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Why Does It Take So Many Realizations To Realize What You've Known All Along?

At some point, I realized that forgetting may just be easier than holding on. He didn't seem to mind.

If you close a door and lock it, there's always a window somewhere else.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

"They're Just Jealous Cause We're Young and in Love"

He always walked her out to her car that summer. Any clock would have read a little past midnight, but being late for curfew at seventeen was worth it. And for the first time in their lives, time stopped. They were waiting for something. They were always waiting for something. His heartbeat was so loud it was almost tangible. Doesn't he know that's why she always kept her hand on his chest?

They had a strange harmony about them, something that made others writhe with a quiet envy.

Friday, April 3, 2009

I Guess I'll Have to Find a New Favorite Number

It was one of those nights when his eyes were as bright as the stars. He said, "I'm sorry, but not a flower shop in town sells tiger lilies" She kissed his frown and whispered, "Some things in life are rare"

She's been dreading mid April since the end of November.

I Know Every Word to Every Song You Ever Wrote

I remember laying sprawled out on the blue carpeted floor, feeling content that I knew everything.

We were only seventeen.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

What's the Point in Moving on to Find Happiness If You've Already Found It?

I once received a postcard that simply read, "I hope she knows I still love her".

I hope he knows nothing else mattered.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

I Don't Think This Matters

There's something to be said about the way I believe in a stranger's promise.

Entangle your pinky with mine.