Lately I've been thinking differently and seeing things from a new perspective. Skies are much bluer if you take the time to look up. Although I may seem transparent to some, I'm finally becoming myself again. Again? I'm not sure if I've ever figured myself out before, not completely. This summer has been an awakening for me. Each new day brings new challenges and new chances. It's been storming lately, which would usually upset me due to my small fear of lightning and power outages, but I've been calm.

This may just be the calm before the storm,
but I've got my umbrella ready just in case.

Can words be beautiful? Then again, "beautiful" is just a word. Put together into sentence form, words can do a great deal. What would the world be without those inspiring with words, such as Martin Luther King Jr. or Mohammad Gandhi? Words can bring meaning to a picture or bring feeling to a person. They can weaken the knees and shake a stutter. They take the stars from the night sky and put them in her eyes. They fill his chest with butterflies from various verdant meadows. They break the ice and strike up conversation.

His words just happen to enlighten my soul, warm my heart, and force a smile. Somedays it seems as though his words alone are the reason for my being. Here's what he has said,

"I can't wait until the day I lay beside you, brush your hair out of your face a swiftly, softly place my lips on yours. I love how that sounds. Us laying down, just waking up. Windows open, warm with a slight breeze making the curtains sway side to side. The sun grazes your face, making those eyes glow and make me fill with butterflies as I get nervous to even be in your presence. How's that sound baby?"
"Call it crazy, but I know where my heart belongs."


Even a few months back, he has stated,

"What I feel for you simply cannot be explained."
"I could say it every second for an eternity, and it wouldn't be a fraction of how much I do love you."


Now, do me a favor? Do not fall as deeply in love with him as I have. Next to impossible, right? Who knew words could possibly mean so much between two human beings? Call it crazy, but I know EXACTLY where my heart belongs.

Remember that last entry about distance? We'll find a way. I know it in my heart.

I wrote this for a boy who loves me. We'd be perfect if "distance" didn't have so much meaning. It is just a word, but it's meaning is what separates us. I'm keeping it anonymous because I'd like to think of it as a secret between the two of us. Only he knows it's addressed to him. (:


I never understood what fate was, or how it even worked. I thought karma was just the name of some over-rated pop song. Luck was never around, so I figured it was just a figment of my imagination. The craziest thing I've ever heard was that "love" word everyone's always professing. The word that's used over and over again on sappy Halmark cards and through text messages. A word that's tossed around like wasted pennies into a wishing well. I've tossed pennies into many wells wondering what would happen, but I think that all of that wondering finally payed off.

See, it all started when I met this boy. He wasn't just a boy, his name was _____. The chemistry filled the gaps in between us, and though we were distant, we were close at heart. As time passed through, the gap increased and we drew apart.

That gap filled me for a long time. I'd sit down to write or draw and nothing would leave the lead of my pencil. Inspiration? Another word I didn't understand.

Recently those words came back to life. See, _____ and I began talking again. In fact, he actually introduced something completely new to me. You know the look on a child's face when they are first brought into a candy store? Or the smile a grandmother displays as her grandchild hands her a hand-made card? I think they call it something like "happiness." Yeah, _____ introduced me to happiness.

Not only has he brought a new meaning to being happy, he's defined love. He's captured butterflies from fields and stored them in my stomach. He's visited eskimos to borrow a chill to throw in my spine. He's stolen the stars from the sky to place them in my eyes. And most of all, he's taken the fake smiles painted in my pictures and drawn a lasting one on my face.

So who's _____?
He's my fate, my good karma, my luck, my love, my inspiration, and my happiness.

I love you.

Stepping out of the shower, I was greated by a cold mist of air. Goosebumps covered my skin as I reached for something warm to cover up. At that moment I realized a perfect metaphor.

Before love, you never realize how cold you really are. You walk around outside with a smile not realizing how cold the wind is against your chest. Finally, when you fall, it's that warm blanket feeling after a cold walk outside. The heat surrounds you and you are wrapped up in it's comfort. The occasional draft taps you on the shoulder, but the feeling elsewhere takes over. Then, when you least expect it, the blanket's taken away. Love's fallen out and the comfort is removed. The cold blast of air smacks you in the face without warning. At that second, you wish you had never felt the warmth. If that warmth had never surrounded you, the cold wouldn't have hurt. The pain would be just a common cold that comes and goes with the wind. But there's hope in each shivering breath you continue to take. Pushing through the bitterness causes warmth from inside. Believing in that warmth draws you toward the feeling of love, comforting and misleading, love.

Do you ever have those days that constantly feel like the nagging of early-morning, opened blinds? The whole atmosphere is affected and changed into a mirage. You wake up with sweat lingering on the tip of your upper lip, taunting the desires of your dreams. Little by little your eyes begin to adjust and the sunlight no longer burns your regretful irises. Sleep is finally remembered as rest and not a battle between what’s lurking in your heart and in your mind. As the sun begins to set, your body leads you towards the ocean of sheets that tangled you in their twisted games the night before. Have I fallen asleep or am I falling down? Those falling dreams catch me off guard every single time. By instinct I reach out, only to be comforted by the coolness of the untouched sheets falling onto the floor. Why does my mind lie about what’s happening to my body? Is this what happens when I smirk at the mirror? This semi-conscience state drains me of all energy remaining in me. I open my eyes to find that I slept through the night. Hours fly by as seconds and there is no recollection of what happened during those thoughtless moments. For all I know, I could’ve grown up and matured all in one night, remembering it as a childhood.