Dear Every Guy Who's Ever Wronged Me:

All I can do to counter the pain you caused me is to keep on loving him.
Harder. Better. Faster. Stronger.
He loves me and I owe it to him to love him.
And I will.
And I hope some how my happiness will spite you.

I'm sorry for my flaws.
Actually, no. I don't apologize for anything.
I did what I could. I am who I am. Forget you for not appreciating me.

Haha. I win. I'm in love.

P.S. I Love You

So I had been wanting to see the movie P.S. I Love You for some time now. I don't really know why, but the title and the cover of the dvd drew me to it. Little did I know that *SPOILER ALERT* the girl's husband dies untimely. And from then on I bawled every 6 minutes or so. It was kind of destined to be a tear jerker and I probably never would have got around to watching it if it hadn't been on HBO. The whole premise of the movie is that the deceased husband sends letters to his wife from the grave (actually it's through her mom, but whatevs) to aid her in grieving and moving on from his untimely death. Yes, it was a little creepy and sadistic to an extent, but kind of sweet.
However, what made me feel like this movie was worth writing about is the fact that it's movies like this that deal with real things faced by those in love that makes me realize exactly how much I care about someone and just how in love I actually am. Also, it makes me realize just how devastated I would be if I lost someone that means that much to me.

I'm Not Sure How This is Suposed to Feel

Timm is getting married.
To a girl named Coco.
She used to be a stripper.
She has a kid.
The ring is beautiful.

What do I do about this? Is there some kind of manual about how to deal with this kind of thing? What is the socially accepted protocol for my situation?
I'm not jealous and I don't miss him and I never want to be with him ever again, it just kind of threw my entire day off kilter to see his mug with his bulldog and his Coco. To think that a year ago he was begging me to drive home every weekend and we were fighting about how I was scared to get married and I didn't want to yet (or ever to him) and I was falling for another guy and I wanted out of that relationship so badly but was so scared to hurt anyone. Does this happen all the time? Do people always have to deal with their ex's getting married and just never talk about it? I think I'm finally to the point where I have forgiven Timm for every misdoing he's done to me and I've forgotten how miserable I was with him. I cried about him getting married. I should be happy for him. I don't know why this makes me cry. I'm just very caught off guard and weirded out.
Then come the "what if's": what if he wants me to be in the wedding? what if he invites me to the wedding? what if his crazy family is there? what if people ask me questions? what if she has my wedding?
It's just weird to think about how someone was a part of your life for so long and you were in love, no matter how awful things got and in such a short period of time, everything can be gone. You get over them, they get over you, you move on and you fall in love with someone better. People leave imprints on your life that you cannot erase no matter how painful they are. I wish I could be truly happy for him without crying for some mysterious reason, but I don't think that's possible.
Why does people getting married and having babies bother me so much? It irks me to my very core. I was rifling through my friends status updates on facebook and saw at least four girls with names I didn't recognize and then realized they had gotten married since I'd last seen them. I'm thinking that I'm jealous, even though I'm not to that point in my life at all yet. I want to be married. I want to have children. All some day. College carries so much uncertainty along for the ride. I long for the day I can be established and have a place to park my car without getting a parking ticket.

I Believe!

For the first time in my life, I am proud to be an American. I voted in my first presidential election and watched as our nation took one gigantic step towards making a change for the better of all people; hearts pounding, fists raised in the air. I saw tears and smiles and embraces. I even saw a girl outside of my window jumping and screaming in pure joy. I wholeheartedly admire Obama's grassroots efforts to reach voters that McCain simply did not try to sway. The young and the ethnic, two of the largest demographics in America, I felt were not adequately touched by McCain's campaign. I myself saw no draw to voting for him. What good would it do to vote for a quasi-Bush doppelganger?
Why is socialized health care viewed as Satan's HMO? What's so bad about taking from the haves and sharing that with the have-nots? No one calls Robin Hood the anti-Christ.
Barack Obama is not a terrorist. Nor is he a Muslim. His father was raised a Muslim in Kenya, a country where 10% of the population practices Islam, as opposed to the .6% of Muslims in America. His father later became an atheist. Barack was baptized in 1988 as a Christian and has evolved his religious views throughout most of his adult life.
Even if he were a Muslim, why should it matter? America was founded on the basis of religious freedom. Where Obama came from is not of importance. His struggles, race, family life, and beliefs are of no relevance to his political ideals and his leadership skills. Some may disagree with me, but I think a successful tenure as a United States Senator is experience enough. While I do recognize that he lacks the experience that McCain more than makes up for, Obama has qualities that far exceed political experience. Obama has good foreign relations and can increase our allies abroad. This is imperative in order to pull our hard-working troops from Iraq. Support of Obama is support of peace.
I'm finding a mixture of sadistic joy and unbridled disgust rising up in me as I read some of my friend's facebook statuses. There's even a few people I was friends with mainly for appearances whose racist and ignorant reamarks have swayed me to revoke that friendship. I'm ashamed to be associated with some of the right-wing nutjobs (for lack of better adjectives) that I had no idea were on my friends list. But I digress, it's not my opinion that matters here, but the blatant re-posting of things people put out on the internet.Don't be offended if your status shows up here. I respect the 1st Amendment right of all Americans to say what they feel and believe. I'm not pointing fingers or calling anyone un-American, racist, fascist, or ignorant. Just some of the phrasing of opinions come across as such to me and it bothers me down to my very core that my peers in the year 2008 would still have such backwards things to say.
To avoid any potential complications, I've removed names, but the stinging sentiments remain:

• "hang on America. The road to Hell is a rocky one. 4 years until this nightmare ends. Welcome to Socialism, comrades."
• "isn't looking forward to socialism."
• "says: Socialism is not the "change" America needs right now...South Carolina ready to secede again?"
• "Scared for my future though, no guns/ammo, gay marriage, taking troops out of Iraq??"
• "says congratulations to Comrade Obama. Heed my warning: he promisses change, but he didn't say we would like it." (NOTE: this person changed their profile picture to a Communist flag.)
• "is think how stupid america is for electing a muslim to be our president. Time to move to canada."
• "is trip to australia anyone??"
• "is so happy I'm getting a doctorate degree just so my salary can be cut in half!! Socialism is not the way to go!!"
• "is expecting a check for my college education from this whole share the wealth thing."
• "is moving to Canada...thanks Obama..."

I find it incredibly poignant that many of these folks spouting their distaste for Obama's socialist policies are opting to move to Canada... the poster child for socialized health care and a country far more liberal than the United States.
My one plea is that those who disagree with Obama can learn to accept the direction that the vast majority of our country is moving in. Respect the president and work together to forget our differences and patch up the holes in our nation. It's not about Republicans and Democrats anymore. It's about what's best for our country as a whole. It's not about red or blue, black or white, but about President Barack Obama. It's about progressive change for a better future for our country. It's about fixing the problems that have evolved over the past 8 years.
I voted for Barack Obama. I support change, hope, and peace. I do not support the war in Iraq. I do support socialized health care. I do support taxing those who make over $250,000 a year. Call me crazy. Call me Communist, Marxist, Socialist, or un-American. But I believe in the future. I believe in a president people can support. I believe in a president that I feel will listen to the needs of the people. I believe that my voice can be heard. I believe in America.

Sadly Mistaken

I thought I was ready for something. Someone new. I had all these expectations of what things should have been like, but it just didn't happen that way. I'm disappointed that the relationship didn't work out. I'm just not ready to be committed to someone completely yet. I thought if I forced myself to be happy, I would be and it worked for a time, but doubt settled in and I realized that I couldn't go on with this charade any longer without becoming incredibly unhappy. I'm more and more independent as the days go on, but I need to be completely self-reliant and self-actualized before I can take on the responsibility of being in love. I'm damaged goods. I will never quit saying that until I believe it to not be true. I still have feelings for my ex even though he ignores me and undoubtedly must loathe my existence. I still have a complicated friendship with an old flame from last year that may have been worth all it's volatility. Who knows what other opportunities may present themselves? I really don't know exactly what I want, but I have a general idea.
I just need time.

Facebook Chat

You've got Facebook pulled up in your browser in the background while you're doing other things online and you hear that inevitable
POP!
It can mean one of three things:
1) Someone really cool that doesn't talk to you often has something urgent to tell you,
2) An acquaintance wants to inquire about how things are going, or
3) Someone incredibly creepy that you're obligated to be Facebook friends with but choose to never talk to has decided to, without a doubt, creep you.

More often than not, it's number 3. I turned off Facebook chat for a while and then turned it back on just for the hell of it, but now, I'm contemplating shutting it off for good. When you get a message like this, it's hard to see the advantages of it:

hey mary! wats up? The last time I saw u u didn't recognize me....

well u probably didn't see me either....

but its all good...

Poor spelling, grammar, excess and unnecessary ellipses, and generally creepyness all around.
Yeah. Just no.

It's Been A While

No idea if anyone is reading this anymore, but who cares. I kind of had to abandon the photoblog for the time being. I feel bad, but I know my school work will suffer. Also, my social life is thriving a bit too much to be wasting away on the internet these days.
About a month ago when I last updated this, I was pining over my ex, quite obviously. I was told by a very knowledgeable friend that when you really like someone and then don't see them for a long time, you forget the negative things and really only remember the good times. You make that person out to be something wonderful that they truly are not. I didn't believe it until it happened. I thought things would be awkward and I would throw up or something, but the more and more time I spent around him in normal situations, the more I realized he's kind of boring to me. We really don't talk much and he generally just doesn't capture my attention like I thought he did. I never loved him and now I have that closure.
Plus, it helps that I met someone better than that. Trey is different and it's great. Even when he tells me I'm gorgeous, I know he doesn't just mean physically. Our personalities just mesh together really well. It's kind of like a mirror of myself, except he's a guy. He's really easy to get along with and I'm really comfortable around him. It just feels right to me. We communicate and we have good chemistry. When you meet some one that understands you on your level, you just know it. I like this whole moving on thing. It's pretty sweet. I won't get too sappy just yet. I'm just quite content. After a lot of soul searching and finding my identity this summer, I knew what I wanted and it kind of just fell into my lap. And I'm very thankful that it did.

Do I Really Deserve Better?

My Facebook news feed and I are in an abusive relationship.
It always knows just how to get under my skin and manipulate my emotions. It knows just the things to show me that will reduce me to tears at my most vulnerable times. It shows me what every old flame is doing and all my happy friends who are in relationships or getting engaged or getting married or having babies or on vacation, or hell, all of the above.
It's like these things are there to just remind me how totally alone, abandoned and used I've felt every waking moment of the past 3 months. I have never wanted to be somewhere else more than ever this summer. The handful of fun experiences I've had were peppered with the stinging sensation that there was no common denominator there with a boyish giggle to share these moments with.
I'm hopeful that I'll find someone someday that will appreciate all I can give. Maybe someone will want to be around me as much as I enjoy being around them.
I haven't cried this much over one silly boy in years.
How did I lose everything I wanted by doing everything right?

Is It Right to Fight?

He's the one I think of when I lay my head down at night.
Disregard who I'm next to when I turn out the lights.
All this talk of moving on cannot possibly be right.
I've tried yet I've forgotten to put up a little fight.

It feels as if no one knows you like I do.
No one else holds you on such a pedestal.
No one else misses your smile or your quirks.
No one else wants to hear your voice.
No one else wishes for your embrace.

You haunt my dreams. Vividly of course.
It's the most painful kind of love I've ever had
and you've never laid a finger on me.
So badly do I want to prove to you
that I can be your everything.
I would change for you. I would give up anything for you.
I want so badly to make your life complete.
I want to draw you out and build you up and lean against you.
You could use someone like me. You could do so much.
I care about you. I care to make you happy.
You've got so much going for you. You're perfect.
You deserve to be more than just a guy with a hat on the drumline.
You ought to be better than just the kid from Georgia that stands between two douchebags.
You have so much talent bursting from your seams. I see potential in you.

We could fit so well together. I can share my little courage with you.
We can help people who need help, together. We can lean on each other.
You could calm my nerves and renew my spirit.
I could draw you out and send you into the world, new.
We could share the things you have to offer the world.
You can give your gift. I can help you. I believe in you.

Nobody remembers you exist. Nobody sees the glory shining from your face.
I do.
People like you. You get along with people. They think you're a good guy.
I don't.
I love you. I mesh so well with you. I think you're an amazing person.
Not just some guy.

You fight for the ones you love and you let go of the ones you don't.

Maybe you never knew about love. I felt something with you I've never felt before. I thought I knew what love felt like, but I'm painting this picture of love in my mind and you're the only one who could fit the bill for it. Nothing I've ever experienced could explain this.
I think I loved you. I think I still love you. I think I always will.
Maybe we should have talked more. About what we wanted. About love.

I don't want to move on. I don't want to let go. That leaves one thing that I wanted to say but couldn't word eloquently enough in order to not scare you away. Maybe you knew it and that's why you left me. Maybe you didn't and that would have kept you. The way I think about you isn't normal, but it isn't weird and I'm not apologizing for it. Ever since the first time I took you and your friends to Wal-Mart and you and I stood in front of a row of Pop-Tarts trying to decide what flavors you wanted to try. Families passed us with their carts. Somehow I knew right then and there that I wanted to be with a guy like you. I thought, "This feels so right. I could marry this guy and be happy buying Pop-Tarts in a Wal-Mart with him by my side for the rest of my life." I secretly wanted to link my arm in yours and never look back at the things I was clinging to for support. No one else could bring me to my figurative knees like that without even trying. You do something to me. Something no one else could ever do. You make me love you. I think you're wonderful and I always will.
I don't know if you'll read this. You probably won't. You probably don't even think about me these days. Your life is probably so full of the things that make you happy. I don't know what you think of when you lay your head down at night. But I still think about you and how you made me the happiest girl in the world. Even if nothing comes of these strong feelings I have for you, I know how blessed and lucky I was and I know I will be again some day. You are the standard that no other guy has been able to measure up to for me. So I don't care who knows it. It was pretty obvious I think.
I think I love you.

There. I said it.

"The way your smile just beams.
The way you sing off key.
The way you haunt my dreams.
No they can't take that away from me."

-Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong, They Can't Take That Away From Me

And the Way You Look Tonight

The feeling of moving on has never felt so good. I'm back in that hopeful place. I'm having dreams again. My mind is churning through the endless possibilities. My gut is alive with the anxious tingle of butterflies. My heart reminds me of that feeling of love. I'll know when someone means that much to me again. When I look in their eyes or they say something genuine and it feels like they're tickling my heart. I'll know. And I just can't wait.

All That I Have to Give

I have so much life to live.
I have so much love to give.
I've so many flaws to repair
That keeping it in seems unfair.

If only someone knew
What I could give to you.
If only someone'd be a part
Of the love I have in my heart.

Maybe the tears would cease;
I'd find some kind of release;
I'd whisper and call out dear
To one I love & hold him near.

If only someone knew
What I could give to you.

The Wounded Bird

Last night was one of those poignant moments in my life. I've been praying to let go of a former love and I've been praying to have the hope that I will be alright and be happy again. I thought maybe there was a reason my heart was dwelling on a certain someone even after I thought I had moved on.
Another thing I've been praying for in efforts to get my life on track is someone new in my life. I've been delving into the pools of sinners while looking for love and it has only turned bitter and unsuccessful. I've been praying for someone with thoughts and morals and a love of God. Someone who is not a wolf in sheep's clothing. A Christian man and a gentleman with good, decent intentions, not another sleazy southern boy that wants between my thighs and will put on a lengthy act to do so. I was half convinced that chivalry was dead and that good men were not interested in me. There's still a part of me that thinks good guys are just not interested in a girl who is not ignorant to the ways of the world. But I am good at heart. I don't hurt people. I love God. I love my family and friends. I'm nurturing and kind. I'm congenial and respectful. I know how to behave myself. I wouldn't consider myself a bad person by any means. I just make mistakes. I'm simply a sinner and I stopped caring for a while. I vowed that this would change and I would not return from my mission trip as the same person I was before. For my own sake, I can't let the Spirit die inside of me.
So I might be seeing a prayer answered before my eyes. I don't want to call it too soon or jinx it, but this whole thing seems far too amazing to be some random coincidence. I'm hoping that a holy hand has reached down from heaven to align the stars and align lives. It makes me want to cry in joy at the beauty of this life. In a world so full of sin and evil, there still manages to be moments that shine with His glory. I just can't fathom how well planned we are. God must exist. Whom else could I trust my entire life to?
An analogy came to mind as my thoughts were reeling on Savannah Highway last night. I feel a bit like a wounded bird these days. At one point in my life, I was able to fly. My heart soared above the trees and the wind lifted me off my feet. Life was beautiful and glorious. Then something happened and those wings were no longer able to carry my weight like they used to. Somehow I became wounded and was no longer able to fly. I sincerely doubted if the wings would support me again. But, as with all wounds, time mends them. My injuries deplete a little more, day by day and I feel a little bit stronger. Suddenly, I have hope again. I have hope that I will fly. I have hope that the next time I feel a burst of strength and am ready to take a leap of faith, my wings will support me. And I'll fly again.

Pathetic

Every little thing you do just sets me off.
I can't stand to see you happy anymore
Knowing that it's not me that's doing it.
I don't really want to see you at all.

Then I have my moments,
These episodes of lapsing sanity.
I close my eyes and there you are
in the tent with me.
Holding my hand in the woods.
Kissing me behind a tree.
Keeping me warm at night.
Telling me you loved me.

I realize you've been here.
A statue I've seen in pictures.
Your set foot here. Your scent still lingers.
You may have very well touched the water I dipped in.

Then I smell of fire and I want to burn you.
I bought a knife and I want to stab you.
I have a heart and I want to love you.
Why do my emotions do this to me?

Oh Star

Nobody's made my heart skip a beat
Or pound in and out of my chest
Quite like this-
Not by holding my hand or taking a stand;
Not by kissing my lips or touching my hips.
Somehow this boy is driving me crazy
And he doesn't even know my name.
He's never even seen my face.
I've never seen his lovely gaze.
He's perfect. He's everything I need.
He's more than likely amazing.
How do I know that he's the one?
How do I know he is God's will?
How do I know my plans correspond?
How do I tell my will and God's apart?
Do I pray then act or act and then pray?
I pray. And hope. And pray.

My Heart Weigh 1,000 Pounds

Every time I begin to believe again that man is inherently good, someone goes and totally blows things out of the water.

Maybe I should just believe that everyone wants to use me and hurt me and I should emotionally close up until the right and honest person comes along and disproves my theory for a short time.

I desire emotional connections with people. It's one of the most important and fulfilling needs I have in life.
When someone tells me they kind of need me and only for a physical desire, it really hurts me. When someone loved me and gave up on me because he liked me for the wrong reasons and only physically desired me, it hurts.
When I give of myself to try and make things better for others, only to be stepped all over, it hurts.
Very few people satisfy my emotional needs. The remainder are met by the rhythmic tapping of my "soft" and "small" hands on the silver wasteland of my laptop keyboard to digital embodiments of friends.

Small.
What does that word mean?
Tiny. Diminutive. Not big. Not powerful. Not strong. Pint-sized. Pipsqueak. Not noticed.
small.

Soft.
What does that word mean?
Squishy. Feathery. Not tough. Not leering. Not rough. A push -over. Tangible. Usable.
soft.

Watching 27 dresses gave me this false sense of hope that being the girl that does everything for everyone will pay off and I'll meet some charming, sexy, honest journalist that will fall crazy in love with me and won't give up on me and will see me for who I am and accept me. Isn't that what every girl wants?
But does every guy want that? Does any guy want that? Do guys even have the capacity to love the same way women do, or do they just pander along in relationships to please their carnal needs for lust and food? I have yet to be proven wrong, how sad.

Wow I'm shaping up to be a wonderfully cynical feminist.

When Did Your Heart Go Missing?

A few nights ago I awoke to what felt like a strong pair of arms wrapped around my waist. I jolted awake, but not too abruptly as to frighten away my potential cuddler. I looked around and a sudden pang of fear was present in my heart. These warm arms gently squeezing my mid-section felt strangely familiar, like those of a former lover that I'd like to forget. For a second, I thought it was him.
To my relief, I imagined the whole ordeal. I awoke to find no one there. While I was relieved that my ex-boyfriend had not covertly crept into my house to hold me in some bizarre attempt to win me over, I was happy for the first few seconds before struck with fear. I miss being held or waking up to someone pleasant. I'm lonely.
I guess this was kind of like when you hug someone for a really long time that you don't want to let go and then when they finally break away and leave, their imprint still seems to linger on your body. Even though lovers have come and gone, their imprint still remains on my body, choosing to resurface on some random morning when I was least expecting it. That was the last thing I needed to feel in the midst of packing my emotional baggage. It seemed to only spill the contents of my heart all over my room.

It's Not the End

Everything happens for a reason, right?
When one door closes, another one opens, right?

I keep telling myself that. Whether or not I believe myself is a different story.

God has a plan for my life, right?
Everything will be okay in the end and if it's not okay, it's not the end, right?
If i let them go and it's meant to be, they'll come back to me, right?

I'm having a hard time trusting both men and myself.
God and my friends, no problem. They're almost always there for me to depend on.
I just want to know that everything will work out for the best.
I don't want to be torn up over someone for years.
I don't want to miss out on living my life.
I don't want to be the one girl who isn't married and having babies in 10 years.
All of a sudden, my biological clock is ticking fiercely, implying that I should be finding a nice boy to settle down with right now. I wasted 4 and a half years thinking I'd marry my ex.

Surprise.

I don't know where I will be in a year.
Think of all the possibilities, though!
A far more advanced writer and photographer.
A better musician.
More strong and independent than ever before.
More confident and self-respecting.
Maybe in love.
Maybe.
It's exciting and frightening to think of what could happen between now and then.

Mostly I just want things to work out. I want to be in love again. I know I can't set a deadline. It has to be when I least expect it.

He Loved Me?

I will never forget the day that I found out he had loved me. He loved me as more than a warm body. He loved me for my personality, my conversation, my eyes, my smile, my comfort and my friendship. He was and is a great catch. He went out of his way to cheer me up. He took me far away from the stresses of my daily life. He walked me to my dorm. His hugs always lingered longer than a friend's but not long enough for me to enjoy. We fell somewhere between friends and lovers. I was his satellite. His shadow. He gave up his bed to me. We lay around for a whole day just enjoying each other's company. I peered at him over the sheets to hide my morning breath and acne riddled face, but it could have mattered less. That was the happiest I had been in months and after that point he gave up on me. I led him on. I frustrated him. I hurt him. I attacked him. I lost him. I had no idea.
I let go probably one of few guys that loved me purely. I didn't have the courage to get out of an abusive and difficult relationship. I realize now what a childish and foolish mistake I made by biting my tongue and hoping things would be for the best. By being a doormat and staying together for the happiness of another person, not my own happiness, I lost someone that could have been more to me than an awkward friend.
The day I found out he loved me, was the day I found out he had given up on me.
He loved me.
He loved me.
He loved me...

Halpert and Beesly

This is me.
This is everything.
This is ludicrous.
This is my life:

Rarely simple.
Rarely easy.
Rarely expected.
Rarely satisfying.

Life in movies;
Life in television;
Life in music;
Are lives misleading.

Bad decisions;
Bad influences;
Bad situations;
Are all I've know.

Losing in love,
Losing self-respect,
Losing everything
And now my mind.

I want what's worst for me.
I want what I can't have.
I want who doesn't want me.
I want to just be loved.
I want to drink.
I want to cuddle.
I want to be best friends.
I want to get married.

Maybe if I'm more like Pam,
I'll find someone more like Jim.
I've got to stop
Being a giggling, smiling, harlot.

No one knows the quiet secrets I keep.
No one sees the mangled condition of my heart.
No one measures the ounces of tears I nightly cry.
No one fathoms my fear to fall in love.

Things I Was Taught About Voting

“This is how you vote,” my father said:

Go in the booth

Punch the button

Vote a straight Republican ticket

And you’re done.

“There are many things a woman never tells,” my mother said:

Her age

Her weight

Her shoe size

And who she voted for.

“Read this article about John McCain,” my father said:

He is a veteran

I’m a veteran

He’s as old as my father

I’m your father

Vote for him.

“Be a good Republican,” my parents said:

Don’t waste your vote

Stay politically unmotivated

Support the President, no matter who wins

Unless he’s a Democrat.

“I voted for Ron Paul,” I told my mother:

You did what?

Voted for who?

Hahahaha

Oh… you’re serious.

Sonnet of Urgency

Every day I’m dying just a little bit inside

To tell you something that I think I need

To tell you before I think I have to leave.

It’s far too hard for me to try and hide.

I’m hoping and wishing that it doesn’t seem

That I’m trying so hard to make you happy

That I don’t want to be so unbearably sappy

But you’re the one who fills up my dreams

All I can say is that I’m basically falling

So hard and causing myself all this strife.

Throwing myself at your feet & I’m crawling.

I’d love for you to take me & make me your wife.

As long you respond so well & keep calling

If I say those three words that will change my life

Oh, You.

I can’t stop thinking fondly of you

From time to time

And almost every night.

I can’t help but be reminded

Of every quirk, laugh, smile;

Your athletic build against me;

The way you say "yeah?"

And giggle and say "okay";

How well we got along on our own;

How I couldn’t stop smiling;

How full of life my heart was

For the first time in a long time.

There have been others since you;

They've noticed my charm.

But to my alarm,

My thoughts still linger on you:

All I had & all that was supposed to be.

I ought to move on

But I simply can’t.

Without thinking “He should have been here.”

Or “why didn’t he stay?”

Speaking in Semesters

I was speaking in semesters and I didn’t want to go:

“There’s nothing for me back home.”

Now I’m dying to crawl from where the river flows:

“Just get me out of here.”

Remember the first time and the last time we kissed?

“You like it when I bite your lip.”

Just wondering what would make you have such a change:

“I think we’d be better off as friends.”

The greatest cop-out with the most unholy phrase.

And to think, 3 weeks before,

I had you talking in circles

And I was speaking in semesters.

Sonnet of Admiration

If only I could tell you how I feel

In words so tender that you’d have to hear.

I long to tag along and call you dear

And place my heart out there for you to steal.

I’m searching for a love that will be real;

Subdue my nervous thoughts when you are near;

I want to love you full and without fear

As I am waiting for my wounds to heal.

As reason played its tricks upon my mind

I tore myself apart to know the truth:

Could it be much more than all of this?

I thought of asking all that I may find

In such a smile and eyes so full of youth.

You told me without words and with a kiss.

Love Loss Like Blood Loss

Is it better to have loved and lost

When your love changes everything?

All that ever was;

All that’s yet to be.

My burden to bear to pay the cost

When I can barely salvage anything.

Pieces of my heart;

Pieces of my soul.

When you’re once so full of hope and light

From the outcome of a wonderful night,

It’s all you can do when it’s taken from you

To dwell upon what might have/could have been

And wonder if you’ll ever love like that again.

Should I send you every line

I wrote within my heart?

Better yet, I bet.

Better not screw up

A good catch is hard to find.

Swore not to pass you up.

Then you let me go.

How will I let you go?

Drawl Ya'll

When someone

reaches out

in humble servitude

to another human

being for no reason

at all, it makes me

want to respond in

the simplest way I

possibly know how-

with a Southern

accent not usual

and foreign to me:

"Thank you."

'Round and 'Round

I made my first venture into the Coliseum (where the School of Mass Communications and Journalism is located) to turn in my change of major form after I was given the run around by the Education office.
Needless to say, I did not succeed. I walked around in a big circle, aimlessly wandering like your typical freshman would. I still possess the simple form that will change my college career and my future.
In short: dammit.

Now I'm on my way to the School of Music to take a few pictures for a friend's portfolio. The favor made me think of an idea for a drumline fund raiser: a risqué calendar featuring the drumline covering their good parts with various drums, cymbals and percussion instruments. It could possibly be the greatest idea I've ever had.

What is it about the smell of coffee that dusts off the gears in my mind? I had so many wonderful analogies and anecdotes while standing in line for my Grande Café Vanilla Frappuccino with whipped cream (I'm a fat ass, what can I say?).
Since I'm constantly thinking about photography and my future in it, I thought about what it takes to make someone truly stand out as a talented photographer. It's not how big your external flash is or how many mega pixels and lenses you possess, but rather how well you capture the essence of a moment. An exemplary photographer doesn't change their environment, but works around it to take it all in. A photographer makes sacrifices by contorting their body in unimaginable ways and even getting down and dirty sometimes to get that shot. Photography is a vision. If a stranger can look at your pictures and feel the emotion attached to the situation or feel the atmosphere of the place you've shot, then you have succeeded. Of course, in this digital age, photo manipulation and post processing can make a world of difference in the quality of your photographs, but starting with a great raw shot is the true key to amazing photography. To quote the great sage Stewart Gilligan Griffin,

"Every hot girl that can aim a camera thinks she's a photographer. Oh, you took a black and white picture of a lawn chair and it's shadow and developed it at Save-On. You must be so brooding and deep."

I love accents and language. They tell so much about a person that cannot be said (I mean, of course they say it, but it's the underlying context we're talking about here). I took a moment to think about the way 3 different people spoke in line at Starbucks.
There was an older lady in a yellow jacket with a gold brooch just ahead of me. As I predicted, a classy and genteel Southern accent poured from her mouth like a fine aged wine. Her every mannerism was the picture of a refined and educated lady of the South.
I also noticed a girl that attempted to dress in a stylish manner, but was not quite hitting the mark. She wore a white top and a black skirt with a hounds tooth coat and leopard print flats. She spoke very softly and I think I heard the slight hint of a British accent. She carried herself with a kind of awkward grace. It was apparent she was out of her element, but still floated above everyone around her, like she was some kind of royal jewel. She took her time when she moved and made way for no one to pass.
Then I stepped up to order. I'm trying to self analyze, so cut me some slack. I was kind of annoyed with the soft-spoken nature of the two women ahead of me, so I opened my big trap and in my low-pitched and swift, accent less voice said "Hi, I'll have a Grande Cafe Vanilla Frappuccino."
"Whipped cream?"
"Yes."
"And your name?" (My least favorite part of the Starbucks ordering experience.)
"Mar-"
"What?"
"Mary."
No one at Starbucks ever hears my name the first time. Almost every time I order, I have to repeat myself. I know I'm soft-spoken and I mumble from time to time, but this time I actually made a conscious effort to be a bit more audible. Maybe it's just the unusualness of my name nowadays. I have an old-fashioned name in a modern society. Surprise! I was born to be different and nostalgic for simpler times. I'm old-fashioned in a lot of ways.

Adventure Weather

Today is the perfect weather to go on an adventure. It's about 60 degrees with a light breeze, no clouds out, just sunshine. It's the kind of weather that we in South Carolina experience in late spring. It's the kind of weather that brings change: the change of seasons, the end of a semester (and the end of all the stress that goes along with it), the beginning of a lazy summer full of new things, the return of my absolute freedom to roam. It makes me want to pick up my camera and go for a walk through downtown Columbia or Charleston, or the Flowertown Festival, or my grandfather's land in Edisto, or any of the local beaches.
Where am I during this adventure weather?
Writing two discussion responses for education classes and a 6-page reaction paper for an education class.
Every day I get closer and closer to turning in that simple piece of paper that will change my college career.

Full of Grace

As the era of livejournal is slowly coming to an end, I'm taking a leap into adulthood and creating my "big girl" blog.
Shortly I will be changing my major to Journalism, more specifically Visual Communications (from Early Childhood Ed.) and I feel like I should start writing more often to make up for a lost year of school in another major. Hopefully I will be able to churn out some prose on here at least once a week, if not more, or whenever the mood strikes me.
I'll also be updating it with photos and videos (I'm going to start a video series of some of my post-band rehearsal adventures with my drum buddies).
Enjoy.