Tuesday, June 28, 2011

At Peace With the Broken

I caught my eyes darting down the train tracks. I was not sure what could be there, but it was a new adventure worth having. The idea of running. "Running to what," I did not know; "running from what" was a more important, still unanswered, question. I was caught up in the moment of the self-gratification of the warm sun and my closest companion nestled safely in my arms. Black and sleek, with a user-friendly operating system--back then, my camera was all I needed to be happy. These days, both it and I are lucky if we ever see sunlight other than between the bustling routes I take between school courses, or in the summer, when I spend more time avoiding the brutal sun--hot and not at all welcoming as it was on the tracks that day.

Kayla was there with her friend as well, and we talked as she danced and posed under the brilliant light. It was all more relaxing than I was accustomed. Perhaps that is why, between the click of my lens, I was looking again down the path we were haphazardly standing upon--I did not want the day to end so soon. Time has a way of toying with me when all I want is to savor the moment, or move on and forget it. That day on the tracks feels like an eternity ago.

I looked down in my hands, regrettably, today, and my camera was not there--not like I had planned. Kayla and I had planned this outing for a week, and we both wanted to make the most of it, but life likes to ruin leisure. It had been awhile since I spent any time with her at all. I had a concept in mind, this time: a street theme. It will have to wait for another day. Another day soon, I hope. Thursday I have plans to reunite with my dear Canon and Savannah and go on an outing then, too. I can only hope I manage to make it work this time.

Despite it all, I am more at peace, at this moment, than I was Saturday. Saturday was the day when everything fell apart.

When I was walking down those railroad tracks with Kayla, they seemed to go on forever--no obstacles in sight, no boundaries. Theoretically, the land could stretch on infinitely, and I could just run if I wanted--run for the rest of my life. But here, while I am safely in my own neighborhood, I manage to find every pothole, obstacle and road block to be found. The first one was earlier this summer when the financial aid department kept demanding more tax forms and papers from us, as if we were going to try to get away with cheating on our taxes while I was filing for my third year of schooling. It was a pothole--annoying, could have been a bit damaging, but we got over it and kept going. Then the actual filing for the loans were in order, and after swerving and trying to stay on the right side of the road, we managed to fill everything out with a month or two to spare. Saturday, I logged onto the computer to find out one of my loans had been denied, and I felt my world come to crashing halt; the road block.

With the sensitivity I am prone to, I spent much of that day in bed, selfishly sobbing. Had it not been for the care of my family, Trey and best friend, Melody, I probably would have made myself even sicker than I had: standing up was a challenge, my blood pressure was boiling, and I felt as though I could pass out at any moment. Being sick is not something I enjoy. And the time I was, crept by at a place more akin to turtles, snails or the old women who cannot quite figure out how to work the mobile carts in the supermarkets. I kept holding onto the feeling that what I wanted was what was best, and it needed to happen soon. I often forget this is not always the case. I probably look like a complete ass to the “Big Guy” upstairs. But with some time, I stopped daydreaming about running and just stood where I was firm and in place.

What would I accomplish in giving up what I had been working towards? While the fight just to go back to school seemed ridiculous, I was fighting for something worth my time. I had to remember that. I managed to gather my thoughts and devise a plan.

Everything has been put on "pause" until I can get my feelings sorted and fix everything that has been broken. But today, even though I am reminiscing, I am not longing to be back on those tracks, dangerously teetering from one side to the next. The idea of it never ending seemed marvelous back then, but if it never ended there would be nothing to run to--nothing to gain. I am starting to understand that as I make the steps to pick myself back up and remember life will not always be easy. There is nothing I can do to change an outcome that already is, but I can make choices that lead me to better consequences.

It is probably better this way. Now, Kayla and I can spend time with one another, and I will not be taunted by other fears or thoughts--I will be in the moment, with her, just where my two friends would want me.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Random, Short Post: My Best Friend



She is my best friend. She is the one who knows all of my secrets. She has been with me through my best of days, and, more importantly, my worst of days. She hugs me tight when I am reduced to tears--and any other chance she can get.

She is more caring than I am. She is more tolerant of me than I am. I will never be able to repay her for all she does.

Melody is my best friend. I'm not sure what I would do without her.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

100 Words: Working Gloves for Idle Hands

My hands, once tied down by the bounties of life, have been granted a chance to regain circulation. Yet, encroaching on a third month of a "vacation," I begin feeling shameful. Of all the frustration felt after the most frustrating semester I have yet to endure, this still feels undeserving. The binds once tying my fingers tightly together, are replaced by my thighs resting heavily on them as I sit and wait for something.

I never would have thought I would be unable to enjoy reserved boredom. I need the business and bustle of life. Without which, I am lost.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Psychosomatic

Everyone at the table is so eloquent and in-place. They all sip their drinks just so--their manner proves they have had years of experience outreaching just these few present glasses of sweet iced tea. Whatever I do, even something as normal as drinking, just seems inadequate.

They all laugh brightly and beautifully and I merely hide my face as I muster the bit of laughter I can. It is a day-to-day practice I am learning to perfect as the days stretch into weeks, the weeks into agonizing months. Agonizing months in a house of comfort yet an empty half of a once-whole standing person; a once-whole person lying next to a cold part of a bed.

The distance is becoming unbearable. Each mile feels like an eternity I will never see. A future too distant for even the psychic.

All I want is to be near him. It does not matter how often I remind myself this dreadfully dry summer will soon meets its end, I am lost without his comfort.

Misery is a predator slowly eating me alive.

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