Why do we play this game- the one where neither of us feel like we can be open?
     There are too many people to play pretend with- for once I just want something REAL.
     I want painful honesty and
          Uncomfortable truths.
     I want the real you, every part.
I want the scars and the bruises.
          I want to know that there is more than the side-stepping.
     I want head-on, into the storm, crazy sincerity.
          I want to go all-in and not feel like I might be gambling away my soul.
     I want to talk like it’s 3AM all of the time- that level of complete candor, no filter, no thought of judgment.
          I want your innermost thoughts and no worries about being wrong.
I want you in your purest form- not the way the world has taught us is the only way we can find each other.

If I had known
that it was going to be our last kiss-
I would have stayed in bed with you all day.
If I had known
that it was the last song you were going to sing to me
I would have called for an encore until my voice was gone.
If I had known
that it was our last real goodbye,
I would have told you how much I loved you.

But I didn’t know.
And I had things to do and places to be.
And I was so happy I didn’t think to worry about lasts
because it was only just
The Beginning.

She looked into his eyes and couldn’t tell the difference.
He hadn’t seemed like a reptile-
Definitely hadn’t felt like a reptile.
But now he gave her the cold shoulder like one.
It all came down to trust-
And she realized that it was broken.
And maybe that was the dividing line between
When he was a saint to her.
Now he had transformed into a snake-
Undeserving of trust as their eyes met.

Long hot showers. Sunrises.
Family. Board Games.
Talks with Old Friends.
All-Nighters. A Good Book.
     Learning. The Hug Where Neither Wants to Pull Away.
Plot Twists. Popsicles on a Hot Day.
     Movie Marathons. Sincerity.
Playgrounds.
     Getting Lost.
          Getting Found.

I’ve never been good at apologies.
Maybe growing up as one of the boys helped that along.
Or maybe it was never talking about feelings.
     My parents never yelled. Arguments were silent.
I've grown into a self sufficient human. One who doesn't need weakness.
     Even more one who doesn't know how to open up.
Not anymore, at least.
And now I think of all the relationships that could have been mended.
And I wish that I knew how to say the important words-
     But it still doesn’t come.

I’m nothing if not persistent
     I’m stubborn and silly.
I can’t take advice, even when I know I should.
     I follow my heart as it leads me to misery
I overthink everything
And I get scared of nothing.
I hate to disappoint more than anything.
     I’m afraid of being a failure.
           I’m average in every way- not gorgeous, not ugly. Just average.
Not brilliant or stupid, just average. Not enough, but always too much.
      I’m awkward and unladylike.
But I love to dress up for something special.
         There are parts of me missing- I give my heart away too freely.
     I give, and I take.
     I care so much, I can’t stand to hurt others- or see them hurt.

So, really. I’m human. I am me.
And sometimes that’s enough.

     But not today. Today I want the world and I want to retrieve the missing pieces and I want to be beautiful and funny and loved-
      So today, I am sad,
Because I can’t have any of those things.
But I will hope for someday.

Snow Angels. Sunny Days.
Flowers Blooming. Dancing in the Rain.
Ice Cream Trucks. Unexpected Kisses.
Finding Pennies. Late-Night Confessions.
First Kisses. First Anythings.
New Adventures with Old Friends.
Steamy Cars. The Steady Thud of the Rain.
Whispered Secrets. Pounding Heartbeats.

Broken
Somewhere deep inside.
A crack across the soul, creating a cavern.
It’s a dark place, full of worry and hurt.
It’s somewhere difficult to pinpoint, but it’s
Scraping nails on a chalkboard.
It’s monsters under the bed.
It’s silent tears on the pillow.
It’s a broken note in the hallelujah chorus.
It’s the fear of never being found in the encroaching wilderness.

One that speaks of so much more than just the darkness.
The despair and the fear enclose everything,
And there is no escape.

You’re not what I thought you were
          In the beginning
And you’re not what I thought you were
          In the end.
As it turns out,
     People are greyscale-
Happy and sad
And angry and kind
And spiteful and full of love.
All at the same time.
          There can’t be black and white
Because this is the human condition
     Perfect and imperfect
          And everything in between.
I loved you
          And I hated you.
And I couldn’t decide what your intentions were.
          Because you are a beautiful and conflicted
     soul who gave what you
          could and
left me to sort out the rest.

Sometimes
People see a part of your soul.
And they think they know everything.
But you don’t know that I dream of moving to a different country.
You don’t know that my stubbornness matches your own-
but I only use it when it seems worth the fight.
I hate to hurt people. But I will also do what I have to.

And I thought it was funny when we got handcuffed.
I wasn’t afraid of you- just the explosion.
I try to be logical, but I’m a hopeless romantic
I won’t apologize for who I am, in spite of my apologetic nature.
And I do understand love- and I do love you.
In spite of everything. You are more than you know.
But I’ve also moved to a more objective plane of view.
And I’m glad that you saved yourself,
     even if there were some casualties along the way.

Of all of the things that fascinate me most about you,
Your eyes, your lips, your voice, your everything-
It’s your hands that continue to fascinate me.
They are skilled hands-
Capable of creating-
I could read your words all day, stare at your artwork,
And continue to find something new.
They are skilled hands-
Capable of playing the guitar-
I could listen to you serenade me all day long.
They are skilled hands-
Exploring my body,
Sending shivers up and down my spine.
And you are silly enough to ask me why I’m shaking,
When the reason should be quite obvious.
They are skilled hands-
And I could trace their lines for hours,
Learning all about them.
About their scars, about their past.
They are skilled hands,
Capable of incredible things.

I know that, physically, I’m alright…
That blood continues to pump from my right ventricle out to the pulmonary arteries.
From the left ventricle and up to the aorta.
And around through the rest of my body, continuously.
But if you think that a broken heart is just a saying- then maybe you’re lucky.
I still can’t decide.

Sunsets. Cuddling.
          Making People You Love Smile.
     Laughter- the Kind That Makes Your Stomach Hurt.
Friendship. Bike Rides.
          Skinny Dipping at Midnight.
     Stars Shining. Hand-Written Letters.
Baby Animals. Honesty.
     Sundresses. Music.

The difference between boys and men
had never been more clear to me than when you became a ghost.
Chivalry might be dead, but you’re a whole other type of gone.

All I ever asked of you was to be civil.
Yet here we are- obviously far past civility,
Licking our wounds,
Whoever said we are better than animals-
Well. They were wrong.

You told me I was ridiculous-
          That my fears were irrational.
And it’s true-
In no particular order, I’m afraid of:
Disappointing people.
Physical affection.
Drowning.
Public speaking.
Being alone.
Doctors.
Spiders.
-well, things that creep and crawl in general.
Getting kidnapped.
Hurting people, whether on purpose or as a byproduct of life.
Heights.
Loving people.
Car accidents.
Being completely honest.
          And they are all irrational-
But I’m still afraid.
Especially since you proved me right on far too many of those counts.

Being who you are will never be enough.
And even though I warned you
That I wasn’t all you dreamed of.
You still blamed me once you realized I was right.
But I was the one who you broke, who you shattered into pieces.
And here we are.
You far away, I don’t know where.
And me still here. But glued back together.
Somehow, time does heal. But I haven’t forgotten.
What you did to me and the way that you changed me.
And I still think about you sometimes.
It just doesn’t hurt as much anymore.
And I still worry about you sometimes.
But I have accepted my fate---
     You can’t take care of anyone who isn’t willing to let you.
And you cast me aside and continued on. Probably to do incredible things.
And while I never thought I had anything to forgive,
I now realize that I am worth more than the things you said about me.
And I am stronger than you will ever know.
     I’m not what you want. But I like being alone.
I do care. But I’ve moved on.
And that’s that way of life.

The most honest thing I told you was that
     I just didn’t want to hurt you.
And you replied that that went both ways. You didn’t want to hurt me either.
          I just didn’t know that that assertion came with an expiration date.

You told me you only go for messed up girls.
But I’m more your type than you could ever imagine.

Love is…unprecedented.
     Scary. Terrifying even.
How could you not be afraid to give all of yourself- your mind to another person.
A broken heart is more than literary.
     But love is more than a confession.
Love is worrying about them- when you haven’t talked in days, weeks even.
          Thinking about them because every little thing brings them to mind- where are you at? Are you okay? I hope that even though I’m lonely, you are having fun, you are safe.
     Know that you are loved.
Maybe they were even right when they said
          Love is pain.
     But- love is also joy. Love can bring a smile to your face even knowing that you were a passing thought in their mind.
          Joy because finding someone you don’t have to put up a façade for is a miracle-
     Love feels like magic.
         Love is magic- and for the cynics who don’t believe in magic- maybe they don’t understand.
     It’s more than chemistry in the brain- more than simple endorphins. I believe that- I have felt that.
     And it hurts- but it’s worth it- even though a future broken heart is practically guaranteed.
          Love is worth it. And that’s all that really matters in the end.

I hadn’t noticed you before.
But as soon as you opened your mouth,
Some of your passion for life leaked out.
And I knew that you were what I wanted.

I want to be brave.
But I’m afraid.
Afraid of you hurting me again,
Because that’s all you seem capable of-
At least where I’m concerned.
For months all you’ve done is devastate me-
But I still can’t seem to stop caring.
     I must just be a *******.

Sometimes
People see a part of your soul.
And they think they know everything.
But you don’t know that I dream of moving to a different country.
You don’t know that my stubbornness matches your own-
but I only use it when it seems worth the fight.
I hate to hurt people. But I will also do what I have to.
I drank when we were in Mexico.
And I thought it was funny when we got handcuffed.
I wasn’t afraid of you- just the explosion.
I try to be logical, but I’m a hopeless romantic
I won’t apologize for who I am, in spite of my apologetic nature.
And I do understand love- and I do love you.
In spite of everything. You are more than you know.
But I’ve also moved to a more objective plane of view.
And I’m glad that you saved yourself,
     even if there were some casualties along the way.

Sometimes a little sun and sand and laughter can heal a gaping, though invisible wound.
Maybe not forever, but it acts like a bandage.
The secret isn’t exactly moving on- not even forgetting.
          It’s more of a Remembering
Remembering that there is so much more than just the pain.

Feeling. Emotions. What a strange concept.
One person inspires warmth.
       Some only draw contempt.
The soul seems to know…
       who could help you
       who could hurt you
       And where it all went wrong.
Sometimes you meet someone who lights up your world.
       someone who sees beneath your insecurities,
       someone who thinks that you’re ****.
Sometimes you feel like nothing. Empty.
       Until someone changes that.
       And feeling again hurts. Hurts a lot.  
       But in the best way imaginable.
    And suddenly, you want them in your life
       What changed?
       A spark. Someone who reached beneath your skin and was honest.
       Someone so real you couldn’t help but become something more-
       Something much better than you remembered was even possible.

They are easy to come by and difficult to leave behind.
Hiding is easier than telling the truth-
I’m afraid.
          Afraid and excited and that makes my heart beat fast and my palms get sweaty.
I know that you could be the end or the beginning.
And even though I want to hope, I’ve gotten lost somewhere in the middle.
So I will make my excuses and you can drive me home,
And maybe next time I will be brave enough to fix the damage I hope isn’t too great.

I said I would stay if you wanted me to.
And your eyes lit up in surprise, so I stayed the night.
We slept in late, and I was comfortable and safe in your arms.
You looked at me like I was something amazing.
But if I had been the good girl and gone home at midnight- would it hurt less now?
I gave you all I could give.
But I guess it wasn’t enough…
It’s never enough.
The problem here is the in
Life.
In living.
There are no guarantees.
I thought you could be my guarantee.
I guess I was mistaken.

Who gave you the power to break me?
     To crush me up into little glass shards.
You didn’t know, but I was a fragile package,
     Meant to be handled with care, not dumped on the ground because you were hurrying towards your own finish line with no thought of anything else.
But here I am (my pieces, that is), trying to get taped back together: some glue here, and a patch there.
And still fully offering myself to you.
Hoping that these sharp, glittering pieces will be enough for one more moment.
          Just one.
     Is it too much to ask for a gentle hand to put me back up on the shelf- returned, a little used, but still willing to try again and hope that next time,
          The glue will stick and maybe even heal-
To fully be again.

I’ll be here.
     Hoping for you.
     Loving you.
     Wishing for you.
     Feeling for you.
Maybe you’ll never be ready.
     But I’ll do my best to keep you safe.
          Or at least your memory.
     Maybe just my memory of you.

We are young.
But we have old souls.
Young bodies and old souls
have a tendency to wander and
          sometimes get lost.

I feel too much.
     I want too much.
Sometimes everything is just too much.
     I think too much
          I need too much
Because...as humans, we take too much
       And often leave nothing behind.
Take no prisoners, that’s the deal.
Sometimes life becomes too much
     and takes too much…
     But if we soldier on another day
We will find something else
To give too much of ourselves to.
          Something to give us more life,
and one day we may find something (or someone)
     who will give as much back.
          And that will be the perfect day.
That is what keeps us searching.
          That is what keeps me searching,
and hoping, and giving.

So many months and nightmares later… and there he was.
She wouldn’t have recognized him if it weren’t for his shoes…
And she realized.
He was just someone who had changed her life.
And now he is someone who no longer has a place in it.
And it feels like calm, quiet acceptance.
The best kind of freedom.

We are made of the stuff of eternities….
Star dust is our origin-
     The universe recycled into our very DNA.
How could we not be meant for greater things?

You reminded me that life is more than just living.
You showed me that people can surprise you, in the most magical of ways (even if you don’t approve of the terminology of magic).
When you kissed me the first time- I was so surprised that I just giggled, because I was excited and nervous and I kind of forgot how to be a person for a minute.
You scared me because you wanted to be close to me- and because I wanted to be so close to you, too.
You think and you sing and you write and you look at me like I could be enough.  (Even though I know I’m not living my life for other people.)
You inspired me to be something more than just someone going about their daily business mindlessly.
I know now that you can’t be anywhere but where you are. Where else could we be?
You taught me that dreams are good- but only if you’re going to do something about them.
You made me think about everything- about the way the world works. And
I’ve never loved anything more.

You asked me what I wanted.
And at the time, I wasn’t sure of my answer.
I finally figured out my answer, though.
It was simpler than I could have imagined.
I just want you.

I dreamed about you again last night.
It’s been months.
But I dreamed-
That we were getting a redo.
And I knew it, but you didn’t.
And yet, I decided to say yes.
I guess I haven’t learned my lesson.
Because there we were again-
And inevitably it was going to end the same way.
I accept my fate to forever be nothing to you.
*But it felt so good to feel your smile again for a few precious minutes.

Months of healing
      And there are still cracks.
The glue of hours of tears and trying to stay busy-
It takes work to heal.
          When you want to feel better but it feels impossible.
     They say that closure is a myth. But all I ever wanted was the truth.
     Sure, I’m not the same person I was-
You taught me a lot.
And I don’t regret knowing you.
     But there are still days I can’t avoid
Remembering the feel of you
Remembering you singing to me
Remember laughing
And know I could never be good enough.