“Well, not everyone can do it… Not nearly everyone…” He continued, “I mean, its been over four years, since you’ve done it, and you just pick up your pen, and it spills out… All falling into place, as if you never, ever, stopped.”
He pauses for a moment to attempt to better understand, what it is exactly, that even he, himself, is defining for her at this very moment…
“It has rhythm. It makes sense. Its pretty… Mostly… And sad too… But that’s how anyone who takes the time to absorb it, each word you seem to carelessly select, yet each word seems to fit, so perfectly, it often leaves your readers speechless… Intimidated to even try to speak upon what you’ve written… Because… Its good… Its real… I can feel it.”
He finishes his thought as he shyly looks over towards her…
She is sitting cross-legged by the window, tying a few strands of her hair into knots… Over and over again…
He cant help but to notice, as he can feel her present emotion so thick… Almost suffocating him as he shifts, sitting with the discomfort of her very real and undeniably raw sense of feeling, hanging in the room, like heavy drapes on big glass windows built on the front side of an enormous estate… The kind you drive by as a child, riding in the back seat of your parents car as a child… Thinking it must be like a museum inside… Intimidating in thoughts of being homelike… And not too comfortable either… But you still have wild, childlike fantasies of what it must be like… To be a part of a family that lives in one of those enormous, fancy and unrealistic estates that are actually considered a real ‘home’ to some people…
She was real…
And she was raw…
Always so open, like a book or a magazine…
He often wished he could communicate his life like she could… So open… So real… Captivating others like he has seen her do… More than a time or two…
“I cant explain it… I just pick up my pen and I let everything else go… I brush all the dirt from my mind… The tragic loss and deep pain too… I let go… And I just write… Its as if my soul is speaking… Yes, my soul, it is as if it’s dancing across the paper with words as its partner… Except its my prose that renders itself across the paper… And I don’t even know what I’m writing at the moment of first transcription… I truly don’t” she trails off, rather shyly…
He enjoys her shy smile as usual… Chosing not to interrupt her, as he most often does… hoping for a glance of her when shes feeling overly open and exposed… vulnerability is sweet on her and he likes it… more every time he witnesses it…
“Why now?” He asks, anticipating her response… Not having a clue what her answer could be… She is spectacular at presenting that moment revealing her element of surprise…
“Why now, after four, long, and may I say, four unbelievable years it has been for you… Since you wrote last… So, why, now… What is the significance of this time, right here, right now”, he asks her…
She is deep within her thought process… Deep in her deep mind… He can visibly see her soul at work… Pulling the perfect verbal response…
And after a few moments, she looks up to him and says, “Four years?”
“What is this ‘four years’ you keep pressing me about!?” She continues…
“Yes, I do believe, that I am ready, to speak on some things that my soul has been pushing for quite some time now…”
And she breathes deep…
Then with curious and lost eyes, she looks at him and says;
“But who are you? How do you speak to know so much on me! We’ve only just met!……”
I have some things to write about. And after all this, in due time, it is now… That I, finally come back up for air… To write about these things that I, have seen with my own eyes… Felt with my own hands… Heard with my own ears and tasted in everything that followed them…
I woke up smiling today.
I do that most days…
It has been a long (last 3 years) …
But here I am… because of these amazing things —>
Because I am strong
I wake up smiling
Because I don’t give up
I am alive to tell my stories
Because I am resilient
I am able to still be kind to everyone
Because I persevere
I am able to continue to work hard
Because I am kind
I am able to practice empathy
Because I am self sufficient
I am able to be generous
Because I am understanding
I am able to understand others
Because I am humble
I am able to avoid ignorance
Because I am selfless
I am able to put others first
Because I am brave, I am able to keep fighting… And because I love myself, I am able to take care of ME… and because I am able to take care of me, I am able to be a fierce & strong mother to my son!
Life has taught me many lessons, and here I am to tell my stories! We All Fall Down, but what defines our character How We rise above!
In the Silence of the night… I see that storms don’t last forever ~
The Silence of the night
Has me feeling free
Thinking of yesterday
And all the chaos you created
I wondered each & everyday
What parts I played in it all
Yet, once I removed you
The silence came…
The stillness of happiness
The darkness was washed away
With the rain…
Suddenly you were gone
And all my suffering went with you
In the silence of the night
I saw my life
And it is beautiful
Anyone looking in…
Can see plain as day
The chaos was always you
And I get to walk away with my head held high
Was just your excuse
So what is it now…
Because now we are apart
And my sky is full of light
And the darkness left with you
In the silence of the night
Im smiling in the quiet
Spaces I call home
And storms don’t last forever
I am happy alone
The moments of my
The beginning of my
Breathing in the
Not a word
I need to say…
Blissfully taking in
The freshness all around
Sun peeking over
The sparkling dew
On the grass thats on the ground…
Thinking of my yesterday,
Of all that I’ve been through…
Wondering if you’re missing,
The things I miss of you…
The ups & downs we experience…
Constantly moving our hearts,
Are we still connected,
When we are miles apart…
The moments of my
Remind me I am alive…
And all the things Im seeking,
Some things I left behind…
Even looking forward
Moving from day to day…
I will embrace this life
In every single way.
I just read a blog post about a man who needs to get glasses for the first time in his life. I read it, it was a cute, little life story. Not HUGE, or pivotal in any way. Nor was it too sad or incredibly tragic. It was just, a simple event that has taken place in a mans life that is new and he will need to adjust to somewhat.
I posted in the comments about how it made me feel reading this. The writer probably could care less, but that’s ok. It’s interesting how writing a little piece about having to get glasses for the first time in life, when read by the many different souls & lives of others, and takes us all to such different places.
First it made me think how nice it would be to have ‘that’ to adjust to right now in life. I relate to this because I too have to go through this life adjustment, which is not a choice mf mine, it is a forced change. Some change is fun because we may choose the new thing in life. But then there are the other changes, the adjustments that we get, from life, in life and by life, that we have not chosen at all.
Mine is having to adjust to my brother being gone. See, my best friend, forever life companion since age 3 when he was born, my brother, my family, my only sibling, my blood, the ‘guy’ version of me was killed a year and a half ago. I am not adjusted … yet … don’t know if I ever will be. It’s the most confusing pain I have ever felt. And the life adjustment to not having a brother after having one my whole life, it is all I know, sucks. It’s so painful there are no words to describe.
I commented how nice it would be if I could ‘trade life lists’ with someone. I can’t say who cause I would NOT wish what I am feeling on anyone in the world … So really, I wouldn’t want to trade, but toss nice out and get someone elses, list, of things I have to adjust to cause life says so and I have no choice otherwise. Ah …
The other thing that this makes me think of is … because of my brother, who donated his ‘gifts’ when he was taken from us, someone who was blind can now see because he was given my brothers eyes.
I cried when I got the letter.
Somewhere in this world, someone is seeing through my little brothers eyes. It is a beautiful thing, a rare and precious gift to give and to be given, and It is also very sad and weird.
People get lost in their own lives so much that they are blind and ignorant to some of the people who may be ‘surviving’ right along with them. I walk this world and I bump into people I know, and people forget that I have a hole in my heart, daily, that suffocates me. And people wonder what is wrong … Someone has my brothers eyes and someone else on this earth killed my brother and took him from me forever. My loss was someone else’s gain. For that I am grateful … but also sad for my loss … sad is an understatement … and I don’t care what people ‘think’ anymore.
I do hope that people appreciate their lives in simplicity.
Be grateful for having to adjust to wearing glasses.
Somewhere, someone just lost their eyes forever.
Somewhere, someone has to adjust to being blind, or cripple, or adjust to living their life suddenly without their dearly loved one.
This is NOT a message to anyone in particular either. I am only using the story I read, of the man who told about his life event of getting glasses, as the catalyst to what got me thinking of these other things. And how words are full of meaning … and so completely different depending on the person.
*Feeling very aware this evening.*
I have been so busy with work and life’s other things lately, that I have not written much on Tryst at all. I have not wanted to share too much these past 8 months. (Wow, that long) I am a free, light and loving soul who can’t just write and write about the one sadness that is plaguing me so terribly. Who cares about what I’m going through and I would not want to go back and read it again, so, yes … in my Tryst absence, I truly miss my care-free life I had when I still had my brother, but everything has changed. Everything has changed. I have changed. I am trying to get back to me … and people just do not understand … how hard it is … to wake up every day with this reality slapping you in the face and stabbing you in the heart.
Truth … it does feel good to write right now … regardless of how ridiculous or pointless or repetitive or redundant my words are … they are still mine and this is what I feel like saying right now.