diary entry

                           The-Simple-Act-of-Loving-Well

There’s this guy at Starbucks that I have a big crush on. Every Monday and Tuesday, before I head to work, I see him.

Most of the time, the extent of our conversations are if I want sweetener in my latte, or honey with my tea.

Once I tried to strike up a conversation with him. My heart pounded in my chest, I swore he could hear it, and I felt vulnerable, bare, and stupid.  We just talked about sprained wrists.

Whenever I see him, I wonder if he feels attracted to me too, or if I’m just spinning fantastical fairy tales in my head as I’m prone to do, or if I’m just a regular customer to him, another face in the crowd.

He remembers my name.

But that doesn’t mean anything.

He looks so calm, cool, and collected. So it makes me want to play cool too.

Yet to what end? Here I sit, here many of us sit, chewing on our feelings, putting up a “cool” mask, holding back for the sake of social propriety, saving ourselves from the risk of being vulnerable because it fucking sucks to hurt.

I wish I didn’t have to hold back. I wish I could just fearlessly say what I really feel. I wish vulnerability wasn’t seen as so ugly or scary in society, but seen for what it really is: real, genuine, and beautiful.

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blog crush

                             adam-young-forest-light-owl-city-shadow-sun-Favim.com-91689

I suppose this is what they would call a “blog crush.”

This is the first time in so long that I’ve been so enamored. It was by happenstance that I came upon his blog and within minutes I found myself engrossed in it…not only because it was written with a keen and descriptive eye, but it was open and genuine and so utterly captivating and heart clenching that I could not breath for many seconds. It was as if his words were a mirror into a hidden piece of me. A fellow believer, a ceaseless dreamer, whose words somehow threw the jubilant colors in my head into unbelievable degrees of color bursts. And I thought, “This person must have been birthed in the same pea pod as me,” for which you speak of, I see and know and can undoubtedly feel fanning inside me.

I fell in love with his words. It was drenched in soft poetry, with streaks of obscure humor, and scattered with beguiling dots of longing, hope, and regret. It yielded a certain beauty that I struggle to define but was drawn as a moth would flutter to a flame. At last I’ve found someone who rode the same odd yet enigmatic wavelength as me! If only I could meet him and tell him in person how much I enjoy his writing, and the wonderful images he paints. If only I could pick his brain, and converse with him about the bizarre and the silly, the beautiful and the ugly…about the smeared lights that linger over the winter skies, or about the universe and how odd it is that it is filled with tiny colored balls that circle ‘round and ‘round like God’s merry-go-round.

Perhaps in an alternate reality, we met at a mutual friend’s party. And then as I reached for the ladle sitting inside the ruby red punch, his hand knocked into mine and we embarrassingly and awkwardly apologized to one another. Then we talked, drank punch and prattled about gravity, birds, extraterrestrials, and the absurdity of catfish. And that pulsating feeling was there, charging our atmosphere, awakening our senses. We danced to the beats ringing in our heads, for they were one in the same. From that moment on, our lives were forever changed, because after many years of searching, we each finally found our musical, our life, our everything soul-mate in one another.

In this reality, it is unlikely that our paths will cross. But in a lingering dream, I imagine that we were once connected to a large puzzle that broke into billions of pieces, and were scattered upon the earth.  Maybe in another time, we will be pieced together once again.