dandelion dreams come true

I blew my false hope through dandelions knowing there would be no return. When does anyone's delicately whispered wishes come true? I watched the seeds float away, not expecting them to take root. But the sun shines on the brave and hopeful. Though rain refused to fall, my aspirations prevailed. Saint Valentine spared me that lonely night, and I finally felt like Patsy Kline was singing "Back in Baby's Arms" for me. The happiness I felt sent warm tears down my rosy cheeks. My lungs no longer fought the air, but took it all in. How I missed this warmth I hadn't felt for weeks.

Yes. I missed him. I tried to ignore it, but the hole remained unfilled. I went out only to stand disconnected from whatever surroundings, enveloped in my fear of forgetting his embrace. I had accepted the loss, but felt I was trudging through the dullest of grays. Oh, how far off seemed those brighter days. I adopted a cat to keep me company. Friendly purring fur proved comforting. We would get through it, Asher and I. And we got through it, but the light came sooner than we expected.

Life is a funny thing, and it's all we really have.

Letter 2

February 8, 2009

We have to be careful. Yes, we have to be careful....of what? Of our emotions we do not share, of our feelings that already suffer? Be careful. Be careful when you talk to me, friendships can turn deadly. Be careful when you think of me. Smiles turn to dried cracks in the earth that beg for rain. Happy memories remind us of, careful now, the once inviting water. Careful looking into these eyes, you won't feel good in stone. Careful not to write back, try to forget you're alone. Let's live our days carefully, so we won't regret?...Let's live carefully, digging ourselves into emotional debt.

I don't write to keep the flame alive. I write to you because, from the beginning, I found you an interesting person. I write to you as a caring friend. Even in my dreams you do not talk to me, you do not share your thoughts. What would it hurt? My feelings are no longer a factor to think about. I have come to terms with the situation, and agree that this is not the right time. But to disconnect all communication from a being you can still learn from? Well, what's the gain in that? You say it's hard to write back, and what for, what's the point? What's the reason for talking to me in the first place? I'm not asking you to sign a contract, I just wanted to keep a friendship intact. You can tell me you do not wish to continue communication, it will not hurt. I am aware of my young age, and I know there are years and years ahead of me, and I'll inevitably find happiness down the road. But I have cared for you six months deep, and I like to talk to people I care for. If you truly wish this an end, please be honest with me and yourself. Respect me enough to answer my questions in concrete language. I don't know is a false statement. You may not know it all, but you know bits and pieces, so, please, humor me.

Yesterday a strange air flowed through my lungs. Clouds falsely promised rain, covering the sky in displacement. We all have our hopes up, thirsts that need to be quenched. These days make believers wonder if God teases. I spent the day cleaning and running errands. When I awoke the first time that morning, thoughts of a kitty ran through my head. An excitement trickled through me at the thought of a purring companion. Sleep on it. At ten my heart was still set. It's amazing how much it costs to adopt. I understand the fees cover medical services, but I remain a poor college student. Through Craigslist I stumbled and after a long search came upon him. He's so handsome, and still available. Monday may finally fill the void Beethoven left. The past year my motherly instinct has kicked in, so I find furry little babies to console myself. Sometimes I feel as though I'm the only one in the town. But I believe we all sometimes feel that way. It's great to be human, but we carry many burdens. Oh, the college years. They say this is the time in life when you figure things out. I disagree. I think this is the time in life when everyone has time to think about what it's all about. Once you grow up and get a 'real job' thoughts are plagued with work and bills and family and meetings and money and ties and shiny leather shoes. We only think we've figured it out because we no longer have space in our brains for it. But at the same time, trying to figure it out for the rest of your life would be a waste. Oh, being human. What will we do, Brandon, what will we do? We can never answer these questions, never with a definitive answer. We can continue, we can persevere, we can strive for happiness, but that's all we can do. I find myself rambling, but that's all those questions ever lead to. We can ramble or we can live. I need to live. I need to paint. I need to sing. I need to dance. I need to laugh. I need to cry. I need to love. I need to miss. I need to search. I need to find. I need to live.

dear brandon,

At times I like to write more than I like to draw. Writing allows me to illustrate how I feel with words, and involves less thinking than an art piece. That's an obstacle I wish to over come - the difficulty I have with creating art. I think about it too much. But I digress.

Here's the first e-mail of my written series that I will call Letters to Brandon. The text of these letters will convey all of my thoughts, feelings, ideas, revelations, disappointments, and other things about that certain day. I feel that these letters have potential to aid in my growth, so I'm writing and introducing them as a new chapter in my life. Which means I'm going to need a copy of the original hand written letter I left on your door sometime in the future (don't lose it!). So anyway, writing seems to be the easiest method for me to get things off my chest, and instead of letting my words sit stagnantly in a blog that no one reads, (though, they will be posted there too) I'm passing them to you. I hope for your feedback and opinion in return, because that is the factor of change. Tell me what you like about them, how you feel about the diction, ask questions when you don't understand, you know, just like a critique. I share with you so you will share with me, and we will learn about each other and ourselves. Now, after that introduction, here is Letter 1:

February 1, 2009

It’s a day on the edge. The edge of overcoming or breaking down, and these deep breaths keep my balance. My insides feel like a soda freshly shaken, tense and unstable, ready to explode. But a pleasant feeling resides deep within it all. It’s the day after the storm, and though I’m hurting in more ways than one, a fresh start lies ahead. Relief runs through my hair, whispering comfort in my ear. I am outside of my head today and look at things without seeing them. My mind lingers unconsciously in a deeper realm. My body tries to hide the hope of the future as the present presses on my chest and occasionally steals my breath. But I know time moves obliviously, neutral to the individual, and I must take stride along side the man-made, abstract form that controls existence. I’m teaching myself to embrace my emotions. I need to feel more like a human. But dwelling in feelings is different. I want to recognize, address, and learn from them. I will dwell and expand only on those that take me forward through my journey.

It’s hard to realize how young you are until you’re older. Pain passes with time. These are words I repeat to myself even though they are understood. Without these days of sorrow the bright days would be dim. I look forward to the brighter days. I have always looked forward to them, and I feel ready to embark on my discovering search. I have told myself that before, but repetition only becomes a progressive tool when we no longer need it. I must live the way that makes me happy. I will too soon be in shoes of nostalgia, looking back on the life time has stolen.

Deep breaths today. I gulp it all in and feel the colors in my lungs.