Seeing is Believing

I pride myself on knowing how to form sentences that successfully explain how I'm feeling. Currently my thoughts are distracting me and I want to find a place for them to settle, so I myself can settle as well. Settle down, clear my mind, and bring myself new thoughts. I want to take these thoughts and telepathically send them to you. To you, so you can feel them too. I know that you're living right now, even though I don't know how you're living. I don't know if you're with someone, if you're laying in bed watching your favorite tv show, if you're at practice, or maybe you fell asleep early. I'll bet whatever it is that you're doing doesn't involve the thought of me. Here I am, trying to read, trying to read a lot, and I can't concentrate on the world of Science Fiction because I am so entranced in the world of you. A world so different than the one I imagined I'd admire, but that doesn't change a thing. Surprise is key for adoration and whether or not you read has no effect on how much I want you to see me. I want to see you when you're worried, when you're in bed trying to fall asleep, when you're doing work, and I want you to see me when I walk into the room. In the end, that's all anyone ever wants. Someone to see them. I'm screaming in my head in hopes that you can hear me, as if there is anything that I could do to make you feel it too. But there is nothing at all that you can do to make someone see, no matter what you wear, or how many times you ask them about their day. That's what frustrates me. There is nothing I can do to make anyone see what I have in me. Nothing. Sometimes I stare at couples and I cannot fathom the fact that requited feelings actually happen. They are not just an idea that I think of right before I fall asleep at night; they are real. They are real for people. So typically I pride myself at formulating the proper statements. I know what I'm thinking, why I'm thinking it, and I know why I'm feeling whatever it is that I am feeling. Typically is not now. I am at this point in my life where I hope to death that they will see it in my eyes when I stare at them. I want them to feel it when I wish for more. I want them to know when I'm disappointed because my grasp wasn't tight enough. I want these things to come easily for once in this godforsaken life, because once you know that it can be real, every moment when it is not becomes more difficult. It has happened and it is happening somewhere. Every day there is some probability that you will find love. There is a chance that someone will ask you to go for hot cocoa, or kiss you, or whisper in your ear and tell you that they can't stop thinking about you. Even if that chance is one in a billion, there is still that one chance. We know because it happens. It is next to me in a haunted house, across the room at a party, walking down the hallway, laughing in the attic. That is why people still believe in romance. Because no matter now skeptical, seeing is believing. My question now is, do I need someone to see me... to believe?

Words from the library

The other day I was driving, and I saw a man outside of Frankie's donuts with a white blanket wrapped around himself. I thought it was a sheet at first, but then realized it was actually a blanket. I thought he was a ghost at first, not an actual ghost but someone dressed as one. I don't know, but maybe he felt like a ghost of himself was haunting him. Maybe something was out to get him that night. He seemed as if he was trying to keep himself warm, as it was rather chilly. I just wanted to go give him a hug, and feed him hot soup, and tell him that everything was going to be okay. But was it?

I'm asking myself that question right now. When do you know that things are going to be okay? Maybe they're not okay, and you just deal with the fact. That doesn't sound too encouraging though, "You'll get used to disappointment, don't worry. You'll be okay because you have to be." When I was in elementary school, I got an award for my "Ability to Take Disappointment." Literally, I'm not kidding. I think that means that I've learned from an early age that it's an achievement if you are able to accept what comes to you, even if it disappoints you.

I guess maybe that's why I see the good in life so often. Sweaters and candles and pumpkins and cats and fortune cookies and movies for the first time and high fives. But then, when I'm sitting in the library at school like I am right now, the little things sometimes fade away. All in one frustrating instant, my Converse aren't on my feet and there isn't an iced coffee waiting for me. There's actually a math test that is awaiting me, and I'm not going to take it. I'm not going to take it because I was sitting here trying to do the practice test and I couldn't figure anything out. First I can't figure out how to do the online homework because it's 2012 and we don't use paper anymore. Then I can't figure out when the homework is due, because you'd think it would be due on the day of class but no, it's due the day before. Now I can't figure out anything, and as I'm trying to do so, it shuts off and tells me it's past due because apparently it is due an hour before class. Someone clearly picks and chooses.

I just don't get it. Why does math have to happen to good people? Ironically, one of my favorite people Albert Einstein once said, "If you judge a fish on it's ability to climb a tree, it will spend it's whole life believing that it is stupid." I am the fish that is trying to climb and tree, but I can't even breathe let alone climb. So now here I am, swimming around above ground and I can't figure it out.

I hate feeling incompetent, but even Einstein, the man behind the math, knows that it is not for everyone.

Then why am I left with no choice?

I hope the man with the white blanket found a place, and I hope he doesn't ever have to add when all he wants to do is take a nap.

I met Jason Mraz....

Do you guys remember how often I would write about my adoration for Jason? How thankful I was to have him as my hero, my inspiration? I first discovered his music when I was 10 years old, which was 11 years ago, and yesterday I finally got to meet him and thank him for everything he has done for me. I sat front row center, two feet away from the stage. He pointed to me during my favorite lyric of the first song I ever loved. He wrote that favorite lyric 7 different ways until he found one he liked for my tattoo. It was number two on my bucket list and I never thought that I would be able to cross it off. I seriously think it was the best day of my life.

Life is Simple

I've solved a mystery. There is always one car. One car with a person sitting inside. Always one car in a particular parking lot, that is otherwise empty. Except for the car. Every day I would see it, and wonder. I'd write poems about it; create scenarios in my head about why it was there. The other day, I was driving my coworker home and we passed it. Suddenly he blurted out, "There's always someone there watching this building they're going to tear down to make sure it doesn't implode." Just like that. He said it without ever knowing that I had spent time wondering about it. As if I hadn't been pondering it's meaning, or point, for months. As if I had never written a single sentence about the car, and it's purpose. Suddenly, I knew. The mystery was no more. I'm pretty sure they're tearing down the building today. The car probably won't be there for much longer. It's a good thing he told me, or a new mystery would have evolved without me ever solving the last one. "Where did the car go?" I would have wondered. We want all things to have a rhyme and a reason, but the truth is, some things are simple. The car was there to house a person. The person was there to protect. It's all raw, uncooked, untouched, made to be this way. No additives, or enhancements. No second chances, or one last hopes. Some things are bogus, and simple. Some things aren't.

Do you ever meet someone, and feel as if you click with them instantly? Maybe it's your cashier at Jimmy John's (true story) and when you sit down and he yells, "WAIT! Don't you want your receipt? ;)" you hope it's more complex than a receipt. You get up to get it because you assume he's so anxious to give it to you because he put his phone number on it. You look everywhere on that little white piece of paper, but it is simple. No confession of love, or a number to call, just a piece of paper with the price of your sandwich. Without having the ability to speak, it tells you how foolish you feel.

We're all hoping for an extravagant twist. We're hoping our favorite character in a book doesn't actually die from his cancer. In life, if your body is filled with such toxins, an extravagant twist is desirable, but not probable. Sometimes you get the twist, but sometimes, it is exactly what it is; unfortunate. Sometimes life is simple like that. Usually in the worst ways, but at the same time, isn't there a bit of beauty about it? Sometimes marker seeps through the paper, and you have faith that it will still be visible if you write on the other side, and it's not. You expect things to cater to your hopes, to your 'maybes,' but in two seconds, where you thought it would be visible, where you thought you'd get a number, where you thought the sugar packet wouldn't fly off the table, you knew deep down in your subconscious mind that the opposite was more likely. Some of us hate that realization, but some of us depend on it. For some of us, when life is hectic enough, we want downfalls we can depend on. Even little ones. You know that if you put your hand on a hot stove, it will hurt. In an ever changing world, simplicity can sometimes be desired. I used to think I needed them, these shoulders to lean on, but now I think I'd rather have the unfamiliar. I always assume a love won't work out. When someone sparks my interest, or they smile at me, I know there's a twist. I depend on them loving someone else, or not feeling the way I think they do, and it never lets me down. That is one thing I'd rather not have to depend on. Still it's there, and I was reminded of it two minutes ago. That is why I wrote this. To remind myself that sometimes... life is too simple. I can feed my imagination, but life only has an imagination once in a while. Instead, it can be blatant. Blatantly, obviously simple.

Life is too simple... but it has it's good days. The air feels slightly different, it smells like you're in another state, a state of being, a state of mind, a state separated by invisible lines. When life feels different, it has colors growing out from every sidewalk crack, it introduces you to that remarkable being who has hands underneath freckles, and it has the ability to imagine. It uses it's imagination, and damn, it builds itself up and saves it for a really, really good day. Wait for the moment, the one, the twist, that breaks that dependence.

Extra in the Ordinary

Growing up, Noble led a slightly boring life. His parents never celebrated special events, starting with his first steps. He never had any birthday parties, never got any Christmas presents, and never got to dress up for Halloween. When all the other young boys were dressing as power rangers, Noble was watching his parents get excited over the new variety of tv dinners. Ever since he was young, Noble finds what other people would classify “the little things” in life as the most important, and disregards events that are seemingly huge for most people. How do we define happiness? Is it Noble that is it right, or is his way of thinking astonishing? What were you doing on December 5^th, 2004? Do you remember? Noble does.

Noble was recently in the longest relationship of his life. It was going pretty well, or so he thought, until one day, it wasn't. Everything is fun and games, until it's not. One day, on his way out of the house to get coffee, he made sure to check the mail first. In his box was a letter addressed to him, with handwriting on the envelope that he recognized. The handwriting was that of his ex girlfriend, Charley. One morning, he woke up to make pancakes for breakfast as a surprise. They were her favorite, especially when he made them into shapes. When Noble turned to her side of the bed, she wasn't there. He still made the pancakes.

Noble decided to wait until he got to the coffee shop to read the letter, knowing it probably wouldn't affect him, because break ups weren't necessarily anything he defined as important. He might remember this day later on, May 7, 2011, but probably just because it was the day he received a letter. He liked letters. It read:

Dear Noble,

I'm going to go out on a limb and say you're probably wondering why I left, but then, you may not be. I never know with you. I do know what it is like to wake up alone, expecting to see the person you've seen every morning for years, and seeing nothing but the crinkled sheets. I feel as if you deserve an explanation. An explanation for everything. I think that what I'm about to say is necessary to say, because up until now, no one has ever told you, and you should know.

Our relationship gave me a different perspective on life. Before you, I often left so many things about myself and my life go unnoticed. You opened my eyes to a new world. For that, I thank you. I thank you for so many reasons. The problem is, there were difficulties I faced with you that you couldn't change, and you didn't even realize that you needed to.

On one hand, you showed me the beauty of a sunset, the joy of feeding the birds at the park, and how wonderful it is to eat a Slim Jim with a Twinkie. I'll never forget that last one. On another note, there were so many things that required praise between us that you didn't even pay attention to. You never remembered our anniversary. That's an event of importance to me, and you didn't care. The day we met wasn't special to you, but finding the perfect hat was. My birthday's were left forgotten, as were yours, as if the days on which we were born were just another speck of dust on your glasses. But then, you'd probably notice that dust. I tried, I tried to understand, but could never quite wrap my brain around your way of thinking. I wish you had explained it to me. It is beautiful, in a way, what you notice. Other people would let so much of it fall into the cracks, when they could be embracing it. That's why I held on for so long. You baffled me, and enticed me with your imagination. At the same time though, with you, it's one or the other. Some of the most grand moments in life are being missed by you, because you're so busy searching for the incredible, that you miss it when it jumps into your arms and says, “I love you.”

I just couldn't imagine our wedding day being mediocre. If we ever had a child, would he be special enough to notice? So, this is me telling you what no one in your life has ever gotten the courage to say. There is glimmer in every part of life, not just the little things, but the great things, and even the bad things. I tried to help you, but I couldn't. You can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped. You are the only person that can decide what is best for you, and what you want out of this life. I sincerely hope that you find that change, and be the you I know you are. I hope you experience everything life has to offer. I will always remember you, and what you've taught me. I hope you feel the same. Good luck. I love you.

Always, Charley.

Noble folded the piece of paper in half, and stuck in underneath his cup. He noticed the coffee circle that started to form on the letter. Of course he did. Of course, because why wouldn't he? He had just read the most significant letter he's ever received, but instead of contemplating what had been said, Noble noticed the coffee circle on the paper. For the first time, Noble was infinitely frustrated at his mind, at himself, which was actually remarkable, because normally he would brush it off and look at the piece of gum stuck to the barista's shoe. While he did notice that gum, he also noticed that he wished he hadn't. He loved Charley. That morning, when she wasn't there and never came back, he felt a pang in his chest, but assumed it was from one too many pieces of bacon. Now, thinking back, he remembers the day she left. April 1^st, 2010. He remembered it specifically, not because it was April Fools Day, because he didn't care about holidays, not because syrup dripped onto his plate as if Jackson Pollock had painted it on there, but because that was the day that he woke up to perfect his seal pancake for his girlfriend, and she was gone. If only Noble had realized that sooner. Maybe he could have searched for her, caught up to her in an airport; people were always falling back in love in airports. Noble realized that he needed to break away from the lessons that he had learned from his family, and take with him the lessons that Charley had taught him. When he checked the mail that morning, he thought he'd remember May 7^th, 2010, because it was the day he received a letter. He was right.

Authors note ;)- My English professor thinks I should continue this to at least a short story. Do you guys agree?