I’ve loved you so long,
I’ve feared even longer
You’re more than I deserve.
I’ve come to realize
I’ve not been honest with my heart.
I’ve thrown daggers at my own back,
I’ve stabbed my own flesh with the foolish choices of my youth.
Wise eyes and unstable ground are what I’ve obtained.
I’ve committed my heart to quicksand,
And a slow, painful pressure is what has come of it.
Tears are shed; I’m damaged goods.
I’ve kissed the thorns of a rise and blindly smiled as they tore through my soul.
I’ve been led to reassurance,
Yet I’ve never drank of its cup.
How can you love a soul that’s never existed?
A soul torn at the seam by Life’s mysteries.
How can you hold a heart that’s been split and shot by its own demise?
And yet you manage.
You tenderly hold this damaged, frightened heart
As you watch it’s soul grow before your eyes.
I’m in Alaska and have been since Wednesday. I’m visiting with my aunt and flying back on Monday. It’s been really nice visiting her. I hadn’t seen her in years.
I loved flying, though! I always have. It was a bit frightening at one point towards the end, but still enjoyable and adventurous none-the-less.
Here is a photo of the beautiful skies here. Keep your fingers crossed for me to be able to see the Aurora Borealis. Oh how wondrous that would be!
I am not the kind of girl to hurt. I am not the kind of girl to be vulnerable to you. I am not the kind of girl to love and forget for a moment. I am not the kind of girl to forget about a commitment.
And, yet, this is who I have become.
Just remind me, dear, who it was you first began to see?
I believe I’ve lost sight of her.
A worst fear has become a reality,
A nightmare is part of my day.
I’ll be heading home here in a few days. It’s been a pretty good visit. Once I get home it’s bound to be a whirlwind. I’ll have a week to pack and leave to move back to my aunt’s, so that will definitely be interesting. Once I’ve done that, it’s off to college to get a plan together for school. It’s also off to everywhere in-between to find a good part time job.
I’ll be very happy to see Chris, though. I’ve missed him, dearly. And we’ll be meeting up with our friend to discuss our anniversary photos. (: How lovely.
What have you all been up to? Is anyone else super excited for Spring Break?
Be prepared for sweet, sweet love tomorrow.
Bob Dylan, meet Twiggy.
So, for a few weeks (okay, maybe a month or two..) I’ve been fretting about the announcement of Picnik’s closure. I use Picnik as my editing software for all of my photos (sheepish grin..) so for them to be closing down, especially when I don’t have the money for Paint Shop Pro or the patience to attempt to use Gimp again or the RAM capacity on my little friend here (big breath), it was a bit disconcerting for awhile.
Today I took the time to look into other programs. Much to my chagrin, I found none. Upon discovering that I was most likely doomed, I searched for the reasons as to why Google is shutting down Picnik. There has to be a logical reason, right? Yes, that is right!
I found that they’re shutting them down so they can use (most) of the wondrous settings of Picnik to bring people to Google +. I know that sounds really sharky (if that even makes sense,) but I think it’s a smart business move, and I’m not going to complain when most of the tools I use are still available to me.
So, fellow Picnik lovers, do not fear! Most of their awesome features (even a lot of their premium ones) are on Google +! They could also still be adding, seeing how it’s only March 16th, and they have until April 19th.
I must add, though, that I dearly love their new Polaroid feature..
This is a photo I found on Flickr that inspired what I’m about to post.
I sat down at his desk with a heavy heart. For years I’d sat in this same spot, smiling, laughing; on his lap, or writing him a love letter. It was strange, the feeling of one last time. I’d always had a sense of it coming; like a veil, I grazed it with my fingertips from time to time. Finally, much to my relief and regret, it was time.
I told him everything. I told him of the screeching, terrific pain he’d inflicted. I explained to him the scars he’d left behind with each pitiful attempt to justify his wrong. I had no guilt in admitting it all. It would never hurt him, for he would never see it.
I told him of the realization. I professed to the love I’d had for another buried deep in my heart, and revealed through the daggers he had thrown at my back, the same daggers that shattered our vase of trust and love; our vase of commitment.
Later that week, I packed a bag and drove. I stopped to buy a bottle and a cork at a local store on the way.
I drove and I drove. I reached my destination seemingly hours after I began the drive, but it was the perfect time. It was dusk, the wind was strong, but I was ready. I slipped off my shoes, holding them tightly in my left hand, and walked deeper and deeper into the ocean. Finally, waist deep, I tossed you away. I tossed your love, your selfishness, your hold on my heart; I tossed it all and walked away.
No more, haunting yesterday.
No more will you grasp my throat.
Many a tear I shed over your selfish obsession,
But no more do you have a hold over my path.
You’ve strangled the breath out of me, you had crushed my sweet hope,
But no more will I dwell among the rubble that was you.
I’ve begun a foundation upon what is solid and true
I’ve started to build a new sight.
I see the path I am meant to tread,
The path you blocked from my vision.
Creep and sneak you may,
Back into what you think you know,
What you think has not changed,
But you’ll only come to find
What is left of what you shattered with your wandering heart.
Decisions, decisions . . .
Well, I have a less yet more vague idea as to what I want to do with my life:
I want to write.
I love to write. I always have. I used to write ‘novels’ on printer paper when I was 5 years old. I started writing poems a few years later. I’ve had (at least) 6 novel ideas I’ve been working to develop, scrapped, or nearly finished since the age of 14. I love to write.
Now for the more vague: Where do I start? Do I want to be an editor? Journalist? Where do I begin?
I suppose it’s time to contact a counselor again. But, in the meantime, I am going to spend time with my parents and friends. I’m visiting for 2 weeks, and a few days before I leave we will all be going up to Washington to bring home their new puppy. My mum has yet to find a name for it. I’m thinking Parker. Don’t you think that is absolutely adorable?
Rain or shine, you’ll be mine
Sleet or snow, wherever you go
I’ll hold your hand among the lands
of dreams we’ll never know.