Hey Jude / Make You Feel My Love

It's been a rough week, hence my absence here.  Then, as if things couldn't get worst, my computer went haywire at the office forcing me to go home early today.  I came home to a dark apartment with my blinds all drawn shut, and I went straight to my room and into my bed.  Then, I watched the last two episodes of Glee, and literally cried for two hours.  

I needed that cry though.  

My uncontrollable sobbing started when Blaine sang "Hey Jude" during the Beatles episode from two weeks ago.  I think I mentioned before that Glee reminds me of an old friend, one of my childhood best friends.  I refer to him as Jude because of his favorite Beatles song.  Well, Finn reminds me of Jude.  Those who knew him would disagree.  Jude was disliked by most of my friends.  But, they didn't know the Jude I knew.  And the person I knew had Finn inside of him.  On the surface, he was more like Puck.  (And from last night's episode, we saw that Puck has a sensitive side, too.)  But, Finn was who I imagined Jude to have been like if life didn't get so crazy for him.    

I believe God puts people in our lives for a reason.  Jude was placed in mine at a very young age.  Maybe so that one day, I would pursue a career where I can be a voice for those who are lost like he was.  Maybe so that one day, I will write a book about the gifts of love that are the people who come into our lives.  In the show, Kurt said that he will spend his entire life missing Finn.  Some people may think that can't be real.  But if so, what a sad life.  I feel bad for people who would think that way.  I have spent 20 years missing Jude.  And I know that I will spend my entire life missing him.  But, I'm also grateful that I had a Jude in my life.  It wasn't easy to love him and be his friend, but I guess, it wasn't easy to love me either.  Yet, he still did.  I knew that when he let me go.    

"you made a difference"

Day 6 of Blogtember: Describe a distinct moment when your life took a turn.



My life has taken several turns, most of which I don't really want to write about because they are quite heavy and deep, and I wanted to stray from some serious stuff for awhile.  So, I decided to skip this prompt and just move on to some light matters like online shopping (tomorrow's prompt).  Then, during my run earlier at my old high school tracks, I was reminded of a distinct moment in high school that turned my life around for the better.  Although it includes some serious and slightly heavy content, I decided that it's something worth sharing, not for me, but the man who changed my life and to this day, I thank every time I'm reminded of how my life could have been.

The moment was during my junior year of high school.  Up until then, I spent a lot of time trying to be the "bad kid."  The rebel.  The poor, mediocre student.  There were a lot of things going on in my young life, and I was not very happy.  I took it out on random people around me, but most of all, I took it out on myself.

Then, one day, after missing several classes in a row, my counselor said to me: "Your education will be your freedom from this life."  By "this life" he was talking about the things in my life that made me feel trapped and miserable.  He told me that my education will be my key to living the kind of life I wanted, and that with it, I would never have to depend on anyone or anything.  Mr. Higgins words' struck me, and thereafter, I worked extra hard to get my grades up.  I joined clubs at school and even started one of my own.  I did everything I could to make sure I graduated from high school with good enough grades and a number of extracurricular activities to get into college.

I never forgot Mr. Higgins' words.  I carried them with me throughout college, especially during times when I thought it would be easier to just fail or drop out.  His words stayed with me during the dismal days of law school.  But, I believe his words did more than just encourage me to graduate from high school, and pursue higher learning.  His words became my guiding light whenever I was tempted to go astray.

I haven't seen or spoken to Mr. Higgins since my high school graduation.  And although I gave him a card then with a long letter thanking him for everything he had done for me - for all the lunches he missed listening to me whine and cry in his office - I still wish I could let him know now that he really made a difference in my life.  I think sometimes teachers and counselors are not appreciated enough.  There are really amazing ones out there, and they do make a difference in their students' lives.  That's why I love Glee.  I know, I'm back there again with that show, but I do love it because it's not only a show about the students but also about the teachers and counselors who touch the students' lives.  It shows how we're a cause and effect on each other.  Teachers and students learning from one another.

Anyhow, I know I've said this before, but I will say it again and again: I was blessed with really amazing teachers and counselors.  Mr. Higgins was one of them.  I want to thank him wherever he is, and say: you made a difference.

 

nostalgic spell

Ten years ago today, I was strolling around Spain, perhaps Barcelona, and well, in that case, I was probably not walking around the city but partying with some really hot Dutch men in some hole-in-the-wall bar.  It seems like a lifetime ago.  I don't even remember that person anymore - the ten-years-ago-me.  I remember the Dutch guy very well, except his name.  I don't know if I ever got his name.  Okay, I've digressed ...

I've been reminiscing.  Maybe because of my Friday-night-that-turned-into-Saturday-morning outing.  I had not done that in a very long time.  Stayed out until 4:00 a.m.  I was very tired on Saturday.  I actually slept in.  All morning.  But, I had to go out again all afternoon.  And then, worked until midnight.  I wasn't very kind to myself.

Anyhow, I just wanted to post this sunset picture I took in Ibiza during my European adventure ten years ago.  It's not very clear because I had to scan it, but I think you get the idea - of just how beautiful that sunset was.  That was taken on our last night in Ibiza, when we stayed out all night (again) - watched the sun set and rise.  Then, had to rush to the airport for our flight to Rome.  We passed out in the plane.  Those were great younger years.  I think if I tried to do a 30-day European adventure now, where I hardly slept and was on the go to a different city every three days, it would take me two months to recover.  I guess, that's what our youths are for.  To have those wonderful, crazy adventures.  (Not to say we can't do it when we're older ... I just think it becomes a tad more tamed.)        

Okay, I better go to bed early ... I need to be productive tomorrow!

love changes everything.

I've been thinking a lot lately about this blog and whether I want to continue writing it.  I've been thinking about why I started blogging in the first place.

Then, today, I read this blog that was recently started by a 92-year-old man, who just lost his wife of 67 years.  Reading his blog and the reason he started it reminded me of my reasons.  I looked through my old files and found this post I wrote on my first blog site (one I deleted years ago), but I kept the post and I'm glad I did.  It's a record of change ... and the journey that's taken me to here.

My great love (written June 4, 2006)

Well, it was a typical Monday holiday - me at home sitting on the floor with a foot high of transcripts to read and outline.  It was a hot and beautiful Memorial Day.  I kept looking outside at my balcony and wishing that I could just lie outside, feel the hot sun on my face and relax.  But, I told myself that I needed to get through those transcripts, so I tried to trudge on.  I couldn't.  But, rather than distract myself with MySpace, I thought I'd check on my friend's wedding registry.  Yeah, her wedding was a month away, but her invitation was on the stack of bills behind the foot-high stack of transcripts, and I figured, I'd do something different and buy the wedding gift early.  Not my usual last minute shopping an hour before I have to leave for the wedding.  So, there I was on weddingchannel.com.  Checked my friend's registry, but there was not much there, so mission wasn't accomplished.  Then, I thought, I wonder if he was getting married.  Let me check ... just for the heck of it.  Who knew?  If it popped up then it confirmed everything that I thought.  So, I typed in his name, clicked on "Enter" ... and there it was: his wedding registry.  I can't remember what went through my head at that moment.  But I was certain that my heart stopped beating for a little while.  I just kept staring at the screen.  And when I was finally able to gasp in some air, I broke down.  And my head must have been spinning, like a movie reel out of control with snapshots of him and me.

I don't know how long I sat there in front of the computer.  I can't even remember what I really felt.  All I remember is that it hurt to breathe.  I thought I was having some kind of asthma attack and I didn't think I had asthma.  For a moment I thought I was having a heart attack, but I realized that it was just my heart breaking.

After what seemed like a long time, I finally composed myself and went back to reading those damn transcripts.  But after several pages of God-knows-what, I put the transcript down and gave up.  I knew I needed to clear my head.  I needed to get out and drive ... wherever.  I thought, I deserved some ice cream. Ice cream was supposed to make me feel better.  So, I drove and drove, cried and cried.  I ended up at Coffee Bean.  Not exactly ice cream, but a good second best.

I allowed myself to sit there, enjoy the hot sun while I sipped my ice-cold White Chocolate Latte.  The thing is I always questioned my feelings for him.  I guess because in large part, everyone else questioned it.  People have this thing about what love is supposed to be.  How could I love him when he was with someone else?  How could I love him over someone who I spent six years of my life with?  How could I love him?  But I did.  No ifs and buts.  There are just some things you can't explain.  I just know that because of him I am now a changed person.  And maybe that's what great loves are supposed to be.  They come into your life to break you down, change you, but that's their only purpose, and although you're forever changed for having had them in your life, they cannot stay.  They are meant to be set free, and you are meant to let them go.  In ways that he probably will never know, he taught me what it means to be in love.  And as cliche as the term may be, I was in love.  Because of that, I am a better person than I was before he entered my life.

In the end I let him go because I couldn't stand to see him confused and hurt.  I couldn't stand to be the cause of any heartache in his life.  For two years, I went through every single emotion from hurt to regret to anger - everything.  And now, I realize that maybe I had to go through all of that to open myself up for my next great love.  Finding out he was getting married turned my whole world upside down.  But finally, he (it) let me go.  And I'm just looking forward to falling in love again.  Nothing wrong with being in love.  It can be very painful sometimes, but in the end, it's worth it all.  I wish him a lifetime of happiness with her.

***

It was worth it.  

Sometimes after we've been hurt, we forget the awesome feeling of loving someone.  We want to close our hearts because it's safer.  But in closing our hearts we lose out on some of the best times and experiences we can have.  In closing our hearts, we lose out on the possibilities that change brings ... because it's love that changes us.  It changes everything.    

thursday's tune.

I know it's not Christmas yet.  But, I love Christmas songs, so I have them playing all month long.  This one takes me back ... way back.

memory lane

One of my oldest friend from junior high celebrated her twins' birthday party at the park up the street from where I lived during high school.  It was the park I spent many afternoons when I just wanted to be away from the house.  When I wanted to think and well, not think.  So, when I drove through the familiar streets for the first time again after many, many, many years, I couldn't help but be pulled back in time.  It was as if I had been away for so long and I was coming back to a small town I had wanted so much to get away from.  I thought, I guess, this is how it feels to come back to a place you grew up in after being away for a long time ... nice.

When I first moved to Burbank, it was like the town of Mayberry from the Andy Griffith Show.  And I hated it.  It was before it had a mall, Starbucks, and IKEA.  I can't recall if the movie theater was even there.  I think it had just opened or they had just built it.  I know it's different now.  Much more commercialized and modern.  But, funny thing is, now that I'm an adult, I miss old Mayberry Burbank.

They've added a much more elaborate play area, but looks like they kept the old swing I used to sit on for hours.

My friend's adorable twins.  And their adorable guests.  But, big brother doesn't look too happy.

Pink balloons always make me happy.

High school friends.

The baseball field that always gave me a sense of peace and clarity.

rememberin' '80's music

There's something romantic about the '80's ~ a cheesy, but incredibly hopeful and heartfelt romanticism that's missing in today's times.   

There's definitely something about '80's love songs that tug at my heart.  Remember this?

it's fall and back-to-school

It's officially fall.  Yay!  I remember as a student, I didn't care much for summers.  I looked forward to fall, and the new school year.  But, it's been many, many years since I've actually been a student, so I thought, why not go back?  To school. 

Okay, I'm not officially going back to school, but am going to take some writing classes again next month.  I realized that I need it.  It gives me inspiration, and it makes me feel more alive when I'm around other writers.  And since I've been in this quest for learning, I've been going back and reading through the anthologies I kept from college.

I was an English major, but honestly, I felt like a fraud most of the time.  I was an English major, who didn't have much time to read and write.  I worked two to three jobs at a time all throughout college, and thus, working 40-plus hours a week and taking a full course load, was a little tough.  As much as I wanted to immerse myself in the literary college world, I couldn't.  I just needed to get through school, and on with the next phase of my life. 

So sadly, when I think of college, that's what I remember.  Working.  When all I really wanted was to be a student.  An English major, who sat in the library or on the school lawn for hours, reading.  Or writing.  And maybe, that's why I've been looking through those anthologies.  Because I felt I missed a lot of it the first time around, and I know I must have kept them for a reason.  So that maybe one day, I could go back to those stories and poems, and immerse myself in them.

Or maybe, I just needed to go back to those anthologies so I'd remember.

Remember why I love(d) literature.  Because as I touched and looked through the pages of those anthologies, I realized that maybe I wasn't so out-of-touch with the literary world after all.  I saw the sentences I underlined and the notes I made on the margins, and remembered how I loved Beowulf and Paradise Lost.  And as I looked through the books on my bookshelf, I remembered why I fell in love with Baldwin and Wright.  Why Tolstoy's Anna Karenina touched me in such an unexpected way.  And why poems have a way of speaking to me and making me understand the things that didn't make sense.

I underlined and highlighted this line in Beowulf: "Fate often saves an undoomed man when his courage is good."  Interesting.  I wonder what I must have been thinking of when I underlined, highlighted and put a star next to that sentence.

Anyhow, I'm excited for this season.  For my new school term.  (wink wink)  For my upcoming trip to DC and the Big Apple.  And to hopefully finishing a draft of my book.

What are your plans for this season?

               

travel snaps: sevilla circa 2008

a look back: crossroads

I'm sitting here trying to write a query/pitch letter for my book as an assignment for class.  But I feel stuck.  I don't know what to write.  So, I started browsing through old blog posts, and I came across this post I wrote on August 22, 2010 - almost two years ago.  I think it's poignant for what I've been going through lately, so, I thought I'd re-post it.  Birthdays have a way of making me nostalgic, and sometimes, question the decisions I've made.  But, reading this, I realized, that the choices we make shouldn't confine us.  They don't confine us.  Because we are always at a crossroads.  We will always be faced with choices, where we have to make a decision - one or the other.  Or maybe later.  But, that's the exciting thing about life, I think.  We don't really know what is behind Door A or Door B, until we go through one.  Or the other.

crossroads

The other day, my friend asked me if I regret going to law school. She asked if I could go back in time, would I do it all over again?

We were talking about writing at that time. She is one of the few people in my life with whom I share my passion for writing.

So, I told her the truth. Yes. I would. I would still go to law school. Even knowing how difficult law school was (is), and how that first year was miserable, I would still do it all over again.

Because the thing is, even though I constantly write (here) about how I just want to be a writer, well, I also wanted to be a lawyer. And glad that I am.

Ten years ago, I made the decision to go to law school. But it was not a decision I made hastily. I really thought about it. A lot. I took two years off after college to think about it. And by thinking about it, I did the two things I loved. I worked in a law office doing the only area of law I really wanted to practice. And I wrote. I took screenwriting classes, worked as a reader for a producer, and I wrote. At the end of the two years, I chose law school.

I shared with my friend how the summer before I started school, the producer I was working for told me that he set up a meeting with someone (another producer) who was interested in hearing about the screenplay I was writing. Talk about decisions. Opportunities. Crossroads. But well, being 25 and a little immature for my age (not to mention intimidated and scared), I made the decision not to go. I didn't even finish the screenplay. And for a long time after I wondered what would have happened if this producer had read my screenplay, liked it, and made something (ah, a movie) out of it. Would I have still gone to law school?

And the answer I always came up with was yes.* Because I love the practice of law. Although my grandma often tells me how she doesn't like the profession I chose (because of course, I don't get to spend as much time with her as I would like, as well), I love what I do. I believe in what I do. Yes, I work a lot. Do I feel that I oftentimes miss out on parties and dinners and special occasions? Of course. Do I feel bad? Absolutely. But I also know that a part of life is taking responsibility for our choices. Being an attorney is taking responsibility for my cases - my clients. And if that means having to work even when I'd rather be doing anything other than that, I have to. (And who is to say that I would not be as busy if I chose a career in writing?)

Life is a constant decision. Some decisions are small. Some big. Some life-changing. I think back at my 25 year old self, and although I still think I was quite immature for my age, I also think that even in my immature state, I knew that just because I chose one (law school) did (does) not mean I can't one day pursue the other (writing). Maybe a meeting with a producer would not come as easily now as it did then. But again, who knows? Maybe a better opportunity awaits me later. Whatever my reasons, I just knew that I needed to be a lawyer first. That going to law school and being a lawyer was something I needed to do. Then. And now. So, I don't regret my decision. Not at all.

*So, I know that the decision not to meet with the producer was more because I just wasn't ready to be a writer then. But I think I am now.

someone like you

The movie.  Not the song. 

I decided to take the afternoon off.  Was still tired from a very busy weekend.  So, I watched t.v., and I caught the end of Someone Like You.  If you've never seen the movie and do want to watch it, don't read this post because of course, I'm going to give away the ending. 

The ending where Ashley Judd's character (Jane) realized that she was in love with Hugh Jackman's character (Eddie).  You see, throughout the movie, Jane was in love with Ray (played by Greg Kinnear), but Ray was a selfish, self-centered, cheating a-hole.  Eddie, on the other hand, was the good-looking single guy who slept with different women, but was the honest friend.  The honest bachelor as my friends and I called the type.  The guy who dates around but is honest about it.  Everyone knows that he's dating around, including the women he goes out with.  He's really the commitment-type of guy even though it doesn't seem like it but it's only because he chooses who he commits to.  The thing about the Eddies, they don't pretend.  The Ray-type-of-man, on the other hand, pretends he can commit, pretends he's the relationship guy, sweet and showering with charm and promises but he can't commit to anyone at all because he's too consumed with himself.  Well, Jane had the unfortunate experience of falling for the charming Ray, over and over again.  He charmed her until he got her, and would string her along for awhile, then drop her again.  Familiar story?  Such relationships can go on for years.  But like such movies with happy endings, Jane realized that she was in love with Eddie, and ran (literally) after him.  Of course, he ended up loving her, too, and happily ever after.  Real life is not such, unfortunately.  But nonetheless, the movie made me think of the Rays and Eddies.  A particular Ray and Eddie in my life.

"Ray" being the cheating high school boyfriend, and "Eddie" the guy I met in my senior year of high school.  I'll call him Josh since he looked like Josh Hartnett.  Josh and I became instant friends, and since he lived a couple of blocks from me, we carpooled to school.  I would pick him and his brother up, and then, he and I would spend the next thirty minutes or so talking in the parking lot, which made both of us late for first period almost everyday.  He much later than me because he'd walk me to class at one end of the school while his was on the other end.

We spent a lot of time together during the fall semester - talking before school, between classes, and after school.  We talked a lot about everything.  Then, Christmas break came and Josh gave me a Christmas gift, which made the cheating boyfriend upset.  We fought and fought, and he blamed Josh for his infidelities.  And I believed him.  I thought it was my fault the cheating boyfriend was cheating. 

Yeah.  (I'm still shaking my head at that one.) 

So, I vowed not to spend so much time with Josh.  But cheating boyfriend wasn't satisfied.  He didn't want me picking Josh up or taking him home anymore.  I didn't have the heart to tell Josh.  So, one morning, I just didn't show up.  I avoided him at school.  We didn't have any classes together, so it was easy to avoid him.  When I saw him in the halls, I'd walk the other way. 

Damn, I was a coward.

Finally, a few weeks before graduation, Josh caught me in the hallway and refused to let me pass him.  He asked what happened.  "I just didn't feel like picking you up anymore," I said pretty coldly. 

"That's not what I meant," he said.  "Was it the Christmas gift?"

"No," I said.  But I couldn't look at him. 

"I mean, I just wanted to give you something.  I didn't want it to turn you off or push you away."

"It's not that," I said, but I still couldn't tell him the truth.

Then, he asked, "Ok, then, what happened with us?"

"Look, I just didn't want to pick you up anymore.  I have too many things going on, and I have to go."  At that, I walked away. 

I felt him staring at my back until I turned at the end of the hall, and saw a glimpse of him still standing where I left him.  I wanted to turn around and run back to him, tell him I made a mistake, and that I was so very sorry for being stupid and choosing the cheating boyfriend.  But, unlike Jane, I didn't do that.

I stayed with the cheating boyfriend.  Josh and I graduated, and never spoke again.

I look for him every now and then.  Wonder how he's doing.   

My best friend just sent me this text (a few seconds ago), which is probably a good way to end this post.  She wrote, "Oprah's aha moment: choose love instead of fear."  My best friend is a big Oprah fan.

She's right, though.

a tune for friday.

This song reminds me of the summer of 2003.  I would have this song on repeat every morning, while I was stuck on the 405 en route to Bar review class.  I'd have it on repeat while sitting inside my car, working on multiple choice questions an hour before class started.  I'd play it again and again while I drove back to school after Bar review.

It's a sad song.  But somehow, it gave me comfort that summer.

thursday's tune.

This song came on the radio the other night while I was on my way to dinner.  And I was swept with nostalgia.  All of a sudden, I was nine years old again, singing and dancing in our living room.  Motown was the music of my childhood.

And since I had a long morning, I thought, it won't hurt to reminisce for awhile.  Close my eyes, and listen to the music that filled my innocent mind and heart with hopes and dreams.  Close my eyes, and dream young again.

    

berkeley.

I was in Berkeley this past weekend.  For a conference.  The last time I was here, it was for a high school speech tournament.  I can't believe I haven't returned since then.  Maybe it's because I felt ashamed and undeserving of returning.  You see, I really wanted to go to school here, but I didn't even try.  I was one of those girls who was afraid to leave her boyfriend.  The same boyfriend who cheated on me with a so-called friend right before an important competition.  I competed at Berkeley with a heavy and broken heart.  I didn't win, but I didn't care either.  Actually, I was proud to just be there.  That I was one of the few chosen to compete.  It goes without saying I went back to the cheating boyfriend, and didn't go back to Berkeley, but that's history.    

I can't believe that's what I thought about when I landed at the Oakland airport.  Something that happened years (I don't even want to say how many), years and years ago!

The thing about it though is that while I did remember that unfortunate experience, the memory didn't affect me in any way.  During the first evening of the conference, while I sat in this huge ballroom with rows and rows of chairs filled with attorneys from different backgrounds, ages, and levels of experience, listening to the Chief Justice of the California Supreme Court speak to us, I thought, I made it.

I realized that despite the detours, delays, and some setbacks, I still got to where I wanted to be.  Yes, I went back to the cheating boyfriend, but I did let him go.  Eventually.  And okay, perhaps, I made the same mistake again, afterwards, with another not-so-nice boyfriend.  But the great thing about life is that we can get back on track, and go where we want to be.  It's up to us.  Eventually, I let go of the not-so-nice boyfriend, too.  And I'm where I want to be.     

clouds + cloud(ed)

I took this picture last Sunday.

It's one out of probably twenty I took of the clouds.

I just love how they fill the sky after the rain.

I wish everyday looked like this.

I've been struggling all afternoon.

After spending all morning in court, I came back into

the office with a dreadful headache.

Not to mention I hurt my neck last night,

and now, I can't turn my head to the right or to the left.

So, instead of working, I've been scrolling through old files, old blog posts,

and old (email) "reminders" I used to send to myself.

I came across this "reminder" I sent on March 30, 2011:

"Just came back from Phoenix.  Remember this: he motivates and inspires me

to be the best possible me.  I love him for that."

I was talking about A, who I've mentioned a couple of times

(though not sure if I've ever referenced him as "A").

But I wrote several posts about him, like here, here, and here. 

A and I are not speaking anymore.

But that has a lot more to do with me than him.

Today, especially after reading the reminders and previous posts,

I wondered why I pushed him out of my life.

Because I miss him everyday.

But, then I read the posts again.

The post about Dexter and Emma (One Day),

and I remembered why I pushed him out of my life.

Self-preservation.

I'm not saying it's right or wrong.

Many days I wish I could take it back.

But, we can't change how we feel.

I can't change mine, and he can't change his.

So, we do what's best for us.

I did what was best for me.

At the time.

I miss him though.

Everyday.

Watermark

There is something about music that transports me to another time: to a time past, to a time wished upon, or to a time imagined.  This song transports me to a time when I was searching.  Walking, hiking through a familiar path, but lost and trying to find a stable ground.  It reminds of a time I sat for hours on a bench that was awkwardly planted on the edge of a steep hill, slightly hidden away from the pathways.  Afraid of heights, it took awhile to convince myself to look down below.  But sitting on that bench, struggling with my fears, I felt free.  To search.  To explore.  And to let go.

Found

Before there was Glee, there was Fame.  I loved this show as a kid.  The first time I watched it, I fell in love.  With New York.  And I, too, dreamed of going to the New York City High School for the Performing Arts.

That seems so long ago.  My fingers dancing on piano keys.  My toes playing in ballet shoes.

But lately, I feel her again.

I guess, the inner child in us never dies.  Our childhood dreams remain in us.  And lately, I've found that who we were, when we were young and innocent and brave, is still who we are.  Sometimes, that young dreamer just gets buried so deep underneath all of life's expectations and responsibilities.

But I think I found her.  And I want her to know that no longer will I push her away.  That no longer will I listen to the voices that said say her dreams are silly.  No longer will I tell her that she can't do it. 

She can.

And no longer will I tell her that she can't follow her heart.

She should. 

She must.

Friday smiles

It's been a long, long, long week.  And it'll be a long, long, long work-filled weekend.  But I came across this picture and it just made me smile.  Big smile. 

It's supposed to be a picture taken in Bern, Switzerland.

And when I saw this picture, and read where it was taken, it

brought me back to that little girl who was full of hopes and

dreams and passion and love and courage.

Once upon a time, I was supposed to go to Switzerland to dance.

Although the reason I didn't go was not my choosing, and in fact, I really

had no choice in the matter, it's still one of those things I regret.

But Jude went.  And I'm glad that at least he did.

At least he got to live that part of our dream for us.

I know that I'll go to Switzerland one day.

And although it most likely won't be to dance

in front of an auditorium filled with people,

I'll be thinking of dancing.

And I'll be thinking of Jude.

How once upon a time, we danced.

How once upon a time, I had a best friend

who loved me more than he loved the Beatles.

And how we spent summers drinking Kool-Aid, listening

to the radio waiting for the perfect moment to record

songs by Lionel Ritchie, Billy Ocean, and Stevie Wonder.

How he'd serenade me with Hello, I Just Called to Say I Love You,

and our favorite, Endless Love.

I've been thinking about Jude a lot lately.

Childhood best friends are ones that stay with you forever.

Because your love for each other is innocent, pure, and real,

with no agenda, expectations or obligations.

Just love.  For each other.

And each other's company.

Those are the best.

And now, I know, more than ever,

that when I get married,

I will be marrying my best friend.

You see, I can't marry anyone else,

unless he's my best friend.

For life.

And that made me smile.

Happy Friday!

Photo: timopfahl

the reason

We do get over it.

You know, that heartache that

squeezed your insides so hard

you couldn't breathe.

That heartache that made

you feel paralyzed.

We do get over it.

You know, that loss that

left you feeling hollow and empty.

You do get over it.

If you try.

If you believe.

Because, sometimes, the things that hurt us the most

has a way of turning out to be best thing that happened to us.

* * *

I tried to work on my book today.

I wrote two sentences.

But I read through pages and pages of journal

entries, old blog posts, and scribbles of half-attempts

at poetry that I had written in the last eight years.

So, I wasn't that unproductive.

There is a lot of learning

 from past loves, past ideas,

past mistakes, and

past broken hearts.

And, I decided to write a completely different story.

You see, sometimes we start off with one goal:

get over the heartache.

But we end up somewhere else:

in love.

I saw him the other night.

He played the guitar while I listened.

And as I watched and listened to him play,

I thought, you're the reason.

The reason it couldn't work out with him.

You were the reason before we even met.

Because I had to meet you.

I don't know how our story will end,

but I am sure of one thing.

I'm glad we met.

(written a long, long time ago

for a boy i met at a halloween party ... long, long ago.)

Photo: Dara Russell

Rome state of mind

One of my best friends just came back from a European vacation with her husband.  I spoke to her a couple of hours ago, and as she told me about her trip, I became nostalgic for Europe.  For Madrid.  Sevilla.  Barcelona.  London.  Amsterdam.  Paris.  Avignon.  Venice.  Florence.  And Rome. 

Rome. 

My friend told me that she kept thinking about me while she was in Rome.  Every restaurant she walked by.  Every street she walked through.  She thought about me.  It's nice to be thought of that way.  Especially since she and I never shared any memories in Rome.  But she knows how much I gush about it.  How much I love everything about the place.       

I took the above photo the last time I was in Rome.  It's the view from the place my friend and I were staying at. 

Aww, I can't wait to go back.  Because I will.  One of these days. 

I think I really need to go on vacation soon.