Love of My Life

I love the ocean. There is nothing like the smell, the taste, the breeze that can only come off of thousands of miles of open water. The sand has that feel of being touched by sea, whether it's white powder in Cancun or beige sand in Santa Cruz or gritty grey in White Rock. It all feels the same on my toes. But the one thing all ocean beaches have in common, storm or calm, are the waves.

Life generally comes in waves; ups and downs, risings and fallings, hard times and the most wonderful times come one following the other. Tides come high and low, but they never falter. Waves are constant.

My life is not waves. When I think waves, I think little shpsh's to great white breakers and everything in between. My ups and downs tend to follow more of a hurricane versus frozen-over/only-slight-undercurrents-beneath-the-solid-ice ends of the spectrum. I rarely see an in between.

I am in a hurricane. The old adage that says when it rains, it pours...truth. It never stops. One thing after another after another after another. It's like getting caught in a strong current or a sudden volley of giant waves with no room to breathe in between. Just when I think it's safe to inhale, another wave smothers me and only stinging water enters my lungs. I haven't been able to breathe in a long time.

Today was another tsunami. A BIG one. I mean, yes tsunamis tend to be viewed as pretty huge, but this one was a monster. It nearly swallowed me whole. I cried and cried and cried. I haven't cried like that in...I don't even know. It was pathetic. It was pathetic, but it was real.

Tomorrow will probably be just another aspect of the hurricane. Maybe things will be better, but only until I realize I've just been resting in the eye and need to buckle down for another long fight.

There's something about the ocean that takes me back. Back to walks on the beach in tender years with a woman whose age I will never know but whose love I will never forget. Back to my eighteenth birthday kissing a boy who I still loved but I knew deep down had long since stopped loving me. Back to swims and bikinis and sunburns and crabbing trips and boating trips and weeks at summer camp and long meaningful walks and first rebellions and confessions. Back to the first night I knew someone cared for me, truly cared, and staring out across the bay with him altered me in a mystical, soul-changing way that I can't shake.

I love the ocean. I love the feel and the smell and the taste and the refreshment and everything it does to me. But I'd take waves over tsunamis any day.

Maybe I'm a Girl / Maybe I'm a Lonely Girl / Who's in the Middle of Something / That She doesn't Really Understand

Maybe I'm a girl /

And maybe you're the only man /

Who could ever help me /

Baby won't you help me understand?

Over and over and over this song plays in my head. Why? No idea. Maybe it's because I'm a lonely girl who's in the middle of something that she doesn't really understand.

I am frivolous. Today I bought myself some bling. The last and only time I bought jewelry for myself was when I was in California the summer I graduated and bought myself a crappy $5 rose ring to commemorate the trip. This time it was diamond earrings. Why? No idea. Maybe it's because I'm a lonely girl who's in the middle of something that she doesn't really understand.

Right now I am torn. I think all men must enjoy tearing stuff up or something. They're really darn good at it. Why do I let you treat me this way and put up with it? Why do I not stand up and say that the good doesn't always outweigh the bad? Maybe it's because there's a possibility you're the only man who could ever help me. Baby, won't you help me understand?

You're Making Me Angry

Sometimes it's just fun to write in giant, purple letters.

It's been a rough few days...and weeks...and months. Thankfully I can stop there. I never want to have to say years. I want to stop this streak before it gets there.

Someone told me tonight that I hide it really well. I think I'm painfully obvious...especially here. I might just explode. Or implode. Which is worse? Well, we can wait and see which one happens to me and that's probably it.

The last time I felt this way started with a death and ended with a boy. This old blog entry signals when it ended, I think.

THINKING...
Originally posted: December 10, 2006

So today I was listening to some songs that brought back a lot of memories.
And it got me wondering if I'll ever fully get over those things.
I guess it made me realize that I probably will never completely get over some of the past,
whether it be people or events.
I know it's for a good reason that I remember;
this way I don't repeat the same stupid mistakes or forget what I came from.
But at the same time, I think it would be so much easier just not to have to re-live it all every day.
I've made a conscious decision to let go, though.
The past doesn't control me anymore, and I'm ready for my new present, and the future that comes with.

YOU don't control me anymore.




Things will get better. They have to.

Anywhere But Here Without You

There are so many new things to say! How to say them all?

I have a boy. It has been a month, minus a day. We're getting better at being ridiculous in a good way. I also get better at being less dramatic and confrontational...well, I'm trying to get better. Somehow he forgives me every time, and his patience never ceases to amaze me. He doesn't know this, but he inspires me to be better, and heispatience makes me want to be more patient for him.

I'm almost done my first year of college, only two weeks left, and I don't know how I feel yet. I'm excited and scared and nostalgic and it's beautiful outside. The sunshine and warm wind coming through the window has been a constant shift-changer in my life, and I'm subconsciously preparing myself all over again. I don't want to let go, but I also want to embrace the new. Letting go of certain people will be harder than they know, especially the people who will never know, but there's nothing left to say. C'est la vie.

God is working inside me in amazing ways. I LOVE the way He loves on me. Today, Sarah came to me in chapel and just spoke the perfect words over me. It was exactly what I needed to hear, and I never even considered asking Him for them. But they came anyway. I want to eat up the Word and live, breathe, think, beat for Him. That makes me smile. It makes me believe that He will care for me and that, maybe, I can let go.

I've been learning that if I hold onto the little that I have too hard, I will crush those things and have nothing left. But if I just release, God will let me keep some of it. Some He'll take, but that's only to replace it with something better. I need to trust in that.