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Posts Tagged ‘love’

More Mush

In Random on March 25, 2016 at 8:37 pm

Maybe it’s my impending nuptials…
Maybe my hormones are out of whack…
Maybe I’m turning into a sap in my old age…
But this stuff is gettin’ me lately!

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But this one is definitely more the style of me and my fiance:

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ūüėĬ†¬† Happy Friday!

Love Is…

In Opinion, Opinion/Personal, Random on March 5, 2016 at 12:52 pm

No worries, I won’t be giving some over-thought detailed list of all the things that love should be based solely on my needs and desires.  Love is many things, and those many things are different from person to person. But the one commonality I’ve noticed most is that people forget how simple it should be, just like everything else in life once adulthood hits.

Yes, life is complicated, but think about how much of that complication is caused by overthinking, overreacting, baggage from previous experiences – I could keep going.  But instead, I’ll just take a moment to remind everyone that things are so much easier to understand and accept when they are kept simple and pure, like when we were children, before we were jaded by the negativity of the world and our own doubts.

So I’ll just leave this here.  Pure, honest, true.  Think about it.

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Super Shorts – To Rebuild

In Fiction, Mostly True, Writing on October 12, 2015 at 8:42 pm

She stood silently at the edge of the porch, elbows resting on the railing with camcorder in hand.  She looked at me when I stepped up next to her, only for a second before returning her eyes to the yard.  Her expression was unreadable.

I stared at the patch of cut grass, no bigger than space enough for a child’s playhouse.¬† The lawnmower droned on and I watched him.¬† The determination on his face and in his movements was unmatchable.¬† He grabbed hold of the handle, prepping himself, and gave a hard push with one arm.¬† The other arm lay on the arm rest of his chair, his hand delicately and precisely moving the small joystick to put him in motion.¬† Repositioning, another shove, rolling his wheelchair forward a few more inches, navigating around the swing set that sat rusting from 2 years of no use while they had been gone.

It was hard to speak, to break the silence of being mesmerized by his tedious and obviously tiring work.¬† But I did.¬† “He mowed this patch?”

She hit a button on the camcorder and set it on the railing in front of her, then nodded.¬† “First time he’s tried doing this since the accident.”

“Yeah…”

“He’s been out here over an hour.¬† He won’t let me do it.”

“Sounds about right…”

“He wanted to try.¬† He found a way to do it.¬† Halfway through that section he yelled for me to bring the camera out.¬† He wanted it on tape.”

I turned my gaze back to him.¬† A task – a chore even – that most dread.¬† A chore that 2 years ago took him less than an hour to fully complete.¬† A task that meant nothing when he walked on 2 legs, when his arms were sculpted from weight lifting and didn’t have muscle damage, when his body hadn’t been through more major surgeries than I could remember.¬† I wanted to cry – for her almost losing the love of her life and seeing his constant struggles, for him losing the future he imagined for himself because of one tiny second and a vehicle malfunction. But then I looked back at her and she was smiling, beaming even.¬†

I looked back at him.  Sweating, flushed, concentrating so hard, struggling but not giving up Рand proud.  Proud, and so very happy.  I watched him Рrepositioning, pushing, rolling, guiding, bumping the swings, hitting the shed slightly, shaking his arm out to loosen his tired muscles, smiling, singing, waving to the porch, presenting his mowed patches to us with a sweep of his arm. Rebuilding.

It’s the little things

In Personal, Random on June 11, 2015 at 10:26 pm

Some days, I’m confident. 100% happy. 1000% sure of – everything. Totally in control.

Some days, my brain glitches out. I’m a zombie. Forgetful. Confused, even by the most mundane tasks.

Some days, I’m indescribable. I’m scared, nervous, anxious. For what? I never know. It makes me unhappy.

It’s exhausting for me, so I can only imagine how exhausting it is for the people close to me.

But I thank my lucky stars every day for those people. Those people and their little words or actions, those people who don’t even realize what they do.

My wonderful grandmother, so proud of the things I’ve taken after her, always sure to remind me that no matter what is going on she’s supportive and understanding.

My quirky mother, unknowingly providing quality entertainment in attempting to learn new technology and this crazy texting thing.

And my wonderful fiance, eat-breath-live-music man, who chooses his own way to show me he cares. Never flowers, because those just sit until they die. But useful little gifts, and funny little songs.¬† And telling me that he loves me “more than everything, even vinyls and banjo and guitar.”

And I soak it up and let it settle in.¬† And I feel balanced again – because I love and am loved, and that’s what’s really important here.

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A Life Story – Addiction

In Opinion/Personal, Personal on May 30, 2015 at 3:26 pm

I still have pictures of us in diapers, laying together in the floor of my mother’s apartment, right across the hall from her parents’ apartment. ¬†Most of my childhood memories include her. ¬†Our mother’s were best friends. ¬†We were raised together. ¬†We fought like sisters, and although we weren’t truly related by blood, we came to call each other cousins. ¬†It was easier to explain due to our shared last names and the fact that we literally grew up together. ¬†By middle school, we had formed our own separate groups of friends, and still like sisters, we reached a point where despite knowing we loved each other, we argued more than anything. ¬†By high school, we had outgrown that stage and became close once again. ¬†We planned classes together. ¬†We were together all summer break long. ¬†There wasn’t a day that went by that we didn’t talk.

Her parents split up.  Her mom left.  Her dad was devastated.  I can remember staying the night at her house one weekend and having to take care of her father as he drank his feelings away.  Then a wedge came in.  A wedge that I viewed as a nuisance, a problem, inevitable trouble.  She viewed him as perfection.  We had both had other boyfriends throughout our years, but this one was different.  I had a terrible feeling about this one.

I knew his habits. ¬†Everybody did. ¬†Then I came back home from college to visit for a weekend and ran into her at a store. ¬†We hadn’t talked in a little while. ¬†I almost didn’t recognize her. ¬†She was frail, bony, her cheeks were sunk in, her pupils were completely blown out. ¬†I knew. ¬†She had allowed his habits into her life like never before.

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A Name Changer

In Opinion/Personal, Personal on January 28, 2015 at 9:45 am

It happened. A day I thought I would never see, a day I thought I would never have, a day that until within the last year I never thought I would want.

Boyfriend was acting very strange lately. I was catching whispers between him and his friends upon entering rooms, immediately followed by failed attempts to appear normal and quick “nothing” responses when I casually ask what’s up. He became secretive with his cell phone, constantly texting away and even putting a pass code lock on it. In my usual¬†fashion, I went straight to paranoia. Here it is, that bomb I’ve waiting for that is going to destroy this whole world I’ve been living in the last year and a half. ¬†I don’t question that he loves me. I don’t think for a second that he would hurt me. But I still always have that little voice in my head screaming all my worst fears and all my past experiences. ¬†In¬†his usual fashion, he read my mind and squashed my concerns by casually tells me about putting passcode on his phone after leaving it unattended at work and coming back to find someone had been messing with it, as well as the conversations he has been having with his family about my Christmas gifts, since I’m apparently very difficult to shop for.

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If it ain’t this, it ain’t love.

In Random on November 21, 2014 at 11:11 pm

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Appreciate when someone takes the time to really know you and offer this piece of themselves. Return the favor. I have found that something unconditional like this is such a rare occurrence. Be aware enough to recognize when you receive something this special from someone you care about. The only thing worse than never knowing how this feels, from the giving or the receiving end, is to have it right there in front of you and take it for granted. I’m so glad I’ve found my person to feel this way about and to feel this way about me, and I will do everything in my power to never let those feelings go away or lessen in the slightest.

My Valentine’s Day Love Story to Music

In Opinion/Personal, Personal, Random on February 14, 2014 at 8:26 am

I think I’ve finally figured out my love for music.¬† Despite bring completely oblivious to the technical side, knowing any real musical terms, or having any knowledge whatsoever on how to play any kind of instrument, I have still always felt very drawn to and moved by music.

There is that girly side of me that hears a song and says, ” oh my god, that’s EXACTLY how I feel right now!” There’s also the side of me that enjoys the pure creativity of it.¬† As a writer and (recently dabbling) painter, it’s very easy even without any real knowledge to appreciate another’s form of expression and that’s a very important thing for the artistic community, no matter what your craft is.¬† And a good play on words or an intellectual and beautiful flow of words that reads or sounds so elegant and pretty on paper or on the tongue set to a melody? I’m a sucker…

But what really sparks my love for music is the ability it has to remind me of who I am, that magical moment during the first few seconds of a song that somehow transports me to another time and place that I may not have even thought about in years.

Example A: anytime I hear Journey‘s “Don’t Stop Believing” I am taken back 4-5 years to a grungy Irish pub on a busy street a little over an hour from my home with 2 of the best friends I’ve ever had.¬† We’ve all started our lives outside of the college world now – jobs, responsibility, marriage, kids even – and it makes it hard to stay in touch as much as we’d like. But as soon as¬† that very well-known bit of music begins, whether it be on the radio, a cover by a band in a bar, or a terrible karaoke rendition, I’m right back in my early 20’s with my two best ladies on each side singing our hearts out and living it up alongside at least a hundred other strangers doing the same exact thing. No care in the world, being invited to sing and shimmy on the bar top, feeling as free as we possibly ever may in our lifetimes.

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Today

In Personal, Poetry, Writing on January 31, 2014 at 4:10 pm

Today, I will not mourn you,
but celebrate the wonderful things you left
within us and here for us.

With those things –
wisdom, words,
sentiment,
passions, progeny –
you carry on.

You carry on,
and on, and on.
Indefinitely.

Today, you will be celebrated
Because that is what you deserve.

Copyright © 2014

New Year, Old Me

In Opinion/Personal, Personal, Random on January 10, 2014 at 10:34 am

Another year gone.  This anniversary.  That anniversary.  Another birthday passed.  Cycle of holidays.  The end of one era.  Sadness and failure.  Acceptance and moving forward.  New friends.  The start of a new era.

I ruined someone’s life in this year we’ve just left. ¬†Not carelessly, not permanently, but for a short time, I know it felt to them that I did. ¬†I didn’t mean it. ¬†I did everything I could to avoid it. ¬†But 2 years of denying the inevitable and thinking it was easier to make myself miserable than to have someone else be unhappy at my expense took a toll on me.

It was hard. ¬†I felt like I didn’t even know who I was anymore. ¬†I had played this character for so long, I couldn’t remember what or who was buried under the mask of false acceptance. ¬†I was broke. ¬†I was alone. But it was my decision that had me there.

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