forthright (fôrth'rīt')
adj.
1. direct and without evasion; straightforward
2. frank; direct; blunt; candid
3. something *she* is not

I have spent the better part of the last 10 years being in one dysfunctional/complicated relationship after another. I have been conditioned to believe that I am not worth being with/fighting for. I am diligently trying to condition myself to believe otherwise; trying to REcondition myself. Easier said than done.

Duck on the pond, duck on the pond, duck on the pond...

Things with Elise are moving much slower than I am used to. Yes, we've had sex. But we see each other infrequently, and there is little communication between us when we're not hanging out. When we're together, though, she is really attentive, and "girlfriend"y, and cuddly. Ugh!

Call me!

::BREATHES:: I am not good at "playing it cool." Some people were born with the ability; not me. But I *have* to right now if I don't want to scare her away; turn her off. Because right now I have her engaged; ignited, and if I don't dial it down a notch I will smother our fire.

Some details:
Her name is Elise. She is 25. And she has completely captivated me.

I am NOT good at playing it cool.

::LE SIGH::

I'm at it again. You know...the falling head over heels business. She finds me "captivating" and is Upstate this weekend picking strawberries, and making homemade jam with her dad. She couldn't be cuter. Equal parts rockstar and delicate cosmic flower. And I'm a smitten kitten :)

Out beyond ideas
of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field.

I'll meet you there.

When the soul lies down
in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.

Ideas, language
- even the phrase "each other" -
do not make any sense.

-Rumi

The last couple months have been trying, to say the least. I have felt an overwhelming feeling of feeling underwhelmed by life. And for the last 2 weeks I have been trying to pull myself out of the emotional quicksand; struggling all the while and having to actively remind myself to "relax."

The negative:
I fell...hard. And had my heart broken.

The positive:
It's been broken before...and far worse. I will be okay. I will be okay. I will be...

I am proactively trying to move forward, pick up the pieces, and remind myself that I am a beautiful person, and that any woman would be lucky to have me. The constant reminding is difficult, but necessary.

Today's Tao --
35 (excerpts)

She who is centered
can go where she wishes, without danger.
She perceives the universal harmony,
even amid great pain,
because she has found peace in her heart.

Music or the smell of good cooking
may make people stop and enjoy...
But words seem monotonous
and without flavor.
When you look for it, there is nothing to see.
When you listen for it, there is nothing to hear.
When you use it, it is inexhaustible.

* * * * *

I miss her, but I will be okay. I love her, and find strength in knowing she, too, loves me. I shall take my leave with grace and poise so as not to exhaust the memory of what we shared. And I will will myself to move forward, despite feeling as though it is a journey upstream. After all, what isn't?

I've had my fair share...but it has never been due to "bad timing." This one aches a sort of long, squeezing throb, as supposed to the usual sharp lightening pain that I've come to know as heartbreak.

She will leave for California in 6 months, and I will know that there was nothing I could have done or said to change things. Life is, after all, full of unexpected turbulences that are, let's face it, out of our control. But I can't help but take this personally despite her pleading with me not to. It becomes personal when one's feelings get hurt. And my feelings are, indeed, hurt.

I can't help but think about previous relationships, past lovers, former heartaches. I know "this, too, shall pass" but right now I am wading in it; kicking my feet as fast and hard as they will go in an attempt not to sink. Have you ever looked at a duck on a pond? I mean *really* looked? On the surface they are as calm as can be. But just beneath the surface their legs of flailing as fast as they can to keep them afloat.

I can certainly empathize.

I have said many times before that my heart must have been built the wrong way for me to experience as much pain as I do. But in thinking about this a little further, I think my heart *had* to be built this way. "The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain."

"As for me, I am a watercolor; I wash off."

Wednesday at 7:30pm I will be underway to meet my love.

X x x

There's a certain irony to the fact that the first three letters of your name type out "9-1-1" on my cellphone. It always feels like there's a sense of urgency in the midst of you. Like trying to hold onto sand.

SO EXCITED!! Always get stoked during the planning stages of a new tattoo. Revamped the memorial tattoo for my Grandpa into a traditional Norwegian folk-art piece and it is looking FIERCE!! Stay tuned for pictures :)

The human heart is an amazing muscle. Measuring no bigger than your clenched fist, and capable of doing so much. When I woke this morning that's exactly how my heart felt, too: clenched in my chest like a team of trapped wolves that wanted...out.

My mind wandered to the first time we kissed, the first time we fought, the first time we made-up. None of these things have happened of course because we've yet to meet.

And I am waiting. Patiently.

Sometimes I wonder if I have been built the wrong way; capable of feeling *too* much; loving *too* much. But if the alternative is not loving enough I choose this.

step inside.
it's warm and sweet--
this insanity.
i love to dwell here
with my thoughts
to see what will become of me.

- kaite

It's hard to feel like an outsider of a group that you were once such a huge part of. On Sunday I went to my friend Romina's for the naming of her son's Godparents -- Tella was named Godmother. There, surrounded by Tella, the guy she's currently dating, and all of "our" friends who, more or less, dropped me once my relationship with Tella was over, I sat quietly poised trying hard to swallow through the apparent lump that had formed in my throat.

I faltered when Tella read a short speech, intended for Joaquin (Romina's son), with movie recommendations, a book she'd like him to read ("The Little Prince" which she followed with one of my favorite excerpts from the book) and a wish that he had gotten to know her mom before she passed away. I let the tears fall freely down my cheeks as the lump grew bigger in my throat. Tella's face contorted when she talked about her mom and I felt myself clutching the pillows underneath me just to stop myself from getting up from my seat to rush to her side to hold her.

Still, days after, I find myself waxing nostalgic and thinking about her. I miss her. I miss her smile. I miss *making* her smile. I can silence these thoughts long enough to realize that she and I don't belong together; we don't fit...but a great deal of time and love and energy was spent on that relationship and I'd be foolish to think this feeling wouldn't linger for a bit.

I know someday I will find my other half; my missing piece. In a way I feel I am already well on my way there. And I am trying to be patient and strong and positive. But it's hard to wake up in a Queen-sized bed every morning with no one next to me. Night after night I go to bed alone, and have been for the better part of the last 6 years. After that long you start to wonder if maybe you're not worth waking up to.

The day she decided to learn how to walk over hot coals, she began by carrying a basin of water on her head.

Slow, deliberate steps and eyes always focused forward, as if to defy the heat; as if to prevent stumbling by looking the world in the face.

Even after all this time

the sun never 

says to the Earth 

"You owe me."

Look what happens

with a love like that;

it lights the

whole sky.

- Hafiz

Olivia Wilde is perfect. (Shut up, Cory.)