moving day

sitting in an almost empty room....

this is where we fell in love.

this is where it all started

and i'm here. alone. and its empty.

i miss you and i wish you were here are just not enough...

sitting alone in the room that hasnt been just mine for months... and youre a million miles away... but these are your memories too.... and i'm trying to pack them all, so safe and carefully away so we can bring them out and build more when you get back....

but theres no bubble wrap for my heart... or enough for every memory....

i miss you.

for those days you felt like a mistake...... those times when loves what you hate, somehow, we keep marching on

once again inspired by onerepublic....


i have all these words in me,

but i dont have a clue what to do with them

cant move em, cant use em

and sure cant get rid of them,

no matter how many i say

i have all this love in me

and i dont how to give it to you

been waiting, been looking

and now i'm scared to scared you off

too much love?

too much too soon.

i have all of these words and so much love in me

and i know it was meant to be shared;

it was meant for you

i was meant for you

but i dont know how

like everything else

i dont know how

if thats what i have

and those are my gifts,

please accept them with open arms

please hold me.

and love me anyway

i have no grand gestures. i have no money to buy you nice things. i dont have a talent or a passion or anything that makes me shine. but please dont give up on me.

i'm so tired of looking in the mirror and finding mascara tears....

i hear you . and i want this for me. i'm going to go find some dreams to chase. and i'll want it. and i'll do it. but here's the scary/terrible/tragic thing...... i would still give up any of those other dreams that may or may not exist for me for love. for the one dream i've always had.

puddle city

another puddle of tears that have fallen from my face.

seems like it wont ever stop; same thing every day

when did this happen?

when did i get so weak?

or was i never strong to begin with?

just good at faking it, and making everyone else believe

that i was better than this and worth something

....

when did i ignore my passions and just let them slip away

sidenote

to all of my... i've only wanted love rambles....

i have also always wanted a library or huge display of books in my house.

.... and a puppy.....

messy messy messy

its that time of day again.

it's almost 6 and you would be here, or at least on your way or almost on your way home...

it was the best part of the day, when you would come home to me...

come home to me....

i know you can't now and i know its going to be a long time and a lot more circumstances until that's the case again, but i want you to come home.

holding jack doesn't help when i'm missing you this badly... i keep telling myself that i'll see you soon, but i think thats just making it worse...

but i know i have to take it one day at a time and just get through missing you today and go from there tomorrow, but today sucks. i'm so lonely and i want you to come and ring the doorbell like you did so many days in a row

i need you come home

Who knew

I didn't really know how right I was when I said you'd never fully understand me until you read The Notebook.

That is insane. And absurd, and slightly embarrassing. And goodness, quite cliche.

But seriously- Nick Sparks dug deep on this one and created two characters that make me make some kind of sense, at least in the literary universe... the combination of these two and the love created and cultivated between them is beyond comforting, despite the pain and battles they go through. The fact that in their craziness and insecurities and paths through life, somehow I found a connection to their ways of thinking and the understated moments that they shared... and that is incredible. That, I feel, is rare. Who knows?

All I can really say for sure is that the more I read and re-read my bible, the more I become completely impressed by the way those words can strike a chord in my soul and offer me a warmth that doesn't really make much sense since the story is fiction, and the story, after all, is just made of words.

I am Allie. I am Noah. I am the poet and I am young girl who sees a poet in a young man's southern soul.

... There are a million ways to read and interpret this story, as with any.... and for me, each time is different, but still unfailingly beautiful. I might be reading into things and I might be exaggerating, but I am what I am. And if nothing else (and in fact, including and considering everything else...), I am in love.

Candles.

It's frustrating....

Because I had a fun week. I did so many things and had a good time and went out and saw friends....

And none of that....

none of the moments that I was laughing or smiling or enjoying myself... not one of those moments held a candle to how I feel when we just spend the night sitting on the couch holding hands. Not even close.

That's insane.

That's frustrating.

And that's sad.

I had a great week doing all these things, but it was nothing compared to an hour watching Glee with you. And that puts me in for a really long 6 months.

"For those days we felt like a mistake; those times when love's what you hate... somehow we keep marching on..." -OneRepublic

The Bible.

I think it's time to start again on page one...

"Who am I? And how, I wonder, will this story end?"

... Romantics would call this a love story, cynics would call it a tragedy... in my mind, it's a little of both....

Here we go.

Slowly coming to terms

Nothing has changed...

I still feel the same way as that night you said to me that you couldn't believe I wasn't stupid passionate about something...

I can't either.

It hurt me then; made me feel like I was wrong and stupid and ... defective.

And I still feel that way.

I've never wanted anything that bad. I've never dreamed of an elaborate life or career or of doing anything with that much intensity.

I've never had a career goal and everything I've done, I've done because I'm supposed to or it sounded okay at the time.

I feel stupid. I feel wrong. I feel like a special breed of ruhtard...

What kind of kid doesn't dream? What kind of person doesn't dream??

I can't wrap my head around how I went so wrong on something that comes so easily to everyone else. Every. One. Else.

Even if it's a crazy dream, or an out of reach, never ever gonna happen dream, everyone has a secret ambition or dream job.

I don't.

I never did. What the hell is wrong with me?

I don't know how I can't have a passion just as much as you don't understand how I haven't found something I'm stupid passionate about...

There has never been anything in my life that I have consistently wanted to do.... not even in a dream world where I could literally do anything at any time that I wanted.... even in that scenario, there was never a-- wow I wish I was doing this or that right now...

Basketball was good... until I had to do it. And then it was no longer an escape. And even now, I don't even want to do that. It's completely depressing to not want to do anything because the things I do don't even really matter... that's how it feels sometimes... especially seeing a lot of people around me... doing their favorite things or even things they're good at. And they're beautiful. In those moments; I see nothing but intense passion and incredible beauty. That I love.

....

So I've been thinking about this and I have no answers. But I have a silly, idealized, cliche, over romanticized, fantasied connection.... All I ever remember wanting was a happy ending. I wanted that passion and all the moments that are so magical I can't even imagine them properly. I wanted to live in the lines of my favorite songs. And rest in the pages of my favorite books.

I wanted more than anything to breathe in midnight air underneath the stars and drive through fields and old mountain roads, always side by side that someone. I wanted to hear all the words poets ever invented to try to describe love and have them not be even close to enough. And I wanted to hold someone. And be held. And sit by the fire. And be. I just wanted to be. And be with someone in that silent, content, impossible way. Because when does that ever happen?

I wanted to fight and battle and come out on top, together. I wanted to watch every sunset, and feel every breeze and take in every moment with you. I wanted to dance in the middle of the kitchen for no reason and hold hands on every drive, no matter how short. I wanted to fall asleep on the couch in your arms and celebrate every day with you as if it were Christmas morning. I wanted to know so deep in my soul that there was no one else in the entire universe that could know me better or handle me better or love me any more for exactly who I was.

...My passion... my dream... is to love.

Every single day I want to love you. I wake up and that's all I think about. I want to hold you. I want to kiss you. I want to hold your hand and look into your eyes. I want to do anything I can to make you smile. Always. This is the constant.

My whole life I've wanted to love. That's my dream. And my crazy connection is once again to The Notebook.... I never wanted to take over the world or have any monuments dedicated to me. I wanted to impact the people in my life and I wanted to love so deeply and with all my heart and soul. And for me.... that has always been enough. In my head, in my heart, in the deep recesses of my soul... I have always believed that no matter what, love conquers all. And if I have love. Real. True. Love. That nothing else would really matter as much or would seem as bad... because if I had that person, together the world wouldn't look so big and scary because together, our love would be huge and so powerful you could literally see it as you walk by.

For me, love as the biggest and best part of my life would be enough. Unbelievably enough. Beyond enough.

This is what I want. Money is whatever. A job will come. But as long as I have that someone to come home to and that person to hold my hand and be beside me no matter what comes, I know I can handle anything. And I know that life will be fulfilling because I am doing what I am supposed to do with my life. "I was born to tell you I love" -Secondhand Serenade... but it's more than that. I was born to love. I was born to love you. I was built and created to be impressed by the fairytales and blinded by love in songs and poetry. But I'm also here to see the reality; to feel what everyone is trying so hard to describe. Love. For me, this has always been enough.

...

People have all kinds of crazy and dangerous hobbies and passions.... but this; for me... my passion is the most dangerous of all. It isn't about danger of dying and it isn't about taking risks to make or lose money... this is about everything. Every fiber of everything I'm worth... all rolled in to one chance. One shot. One person. One everlasting moment.

Risk.

Never did much of that either according to a lot of people.... but in reality, I'm taking the biggest risk of all; I'm risking everything I am and everything I believe in, taking the chance that what I want is there and is real and that maybe... hopefully... you're the one. You're it. You're the reason I'm here. You are every reason. And every breath. And every moment; the ones leading up to finding you and every single one since...

I am taking the biggest leap I can ever take because this is who I am. And everything I am.

Please catch me.

You always tell me to just be me; to never apologize for being who I am...

I'm slowly coming to terms with the fact that this is who I am and what I want, no matter how childish or impossible or stupid or living in fairytale land it may look to anyone else. This is my passion, this is my choice, this is what I want out of my life.

Oh love.