Tag Archives: distance

04142013 The Fear

Nothing was your fault,
Nothing real was disputed. 
I let myself
Or rather forced myself to slip away.
At a distance I watched, and you struggled to pull me back in.

But I was too far.
My mind was made up – at a distance I would remain.
I would be a bystander to our relationship. 

It consumed me.
My distance was beyond my control.
I was scared. I didn’t know the way back
I could see you. I could hear you.
But I was stuck.
And everything was falling apart
and I thought I couldn’t save it.

I’m sorry.
I’m back, I swear.
You don’t have to do this on your own.


11162012 – Peace and War

In the silence, in the rain, on a rough day.

All I can see is your smile. All i can hear is your laugh.

I smile, as tears run down my face.

Just like you smiled, when you held my face with your calloused hands, as you kissed my cheeks.

As I talked on and made promises I could never keep, you just nodded.

You nodded, hugged, cried, laughed.

You may be Resting in Peace, but your Love Fights my Wars.

It always wins.


Who I like and why I like them.

I like my friends. They don’t have to physically be there for me every second of every day, but I know they are always a phone call away. I know they love me, despite the distance and time between us. I know I have not been forgotten and I know I will never forget them, because they put so much sunshine into my life. Throughout the years and all of our fears, mistakes, and disagreements, we stick together because we know that every second is a blessing, a learning experience, a test of our strength. When reunited, it feels like the stars are all lined up, the world is full of rainbows and butterflies, and life appears bigger and full of endless possibilities. This is perhaps the most corny thing I have ever written, but it’s true. It’s how I feel. It’s how I hope they feel. Everything just feels right, even if everything is totally wrong and chaos surrounds us.

I liked them because they do not seek to be the center of attention. They are not selfish I like them because they listen, laugh, and love more than they talk, complain, and hate. We always have the most fun, even when doing nothing. I like them because we have similar values. We make it a point to be bluntly honest with each other, because we know the value of truth and correction. They usually use their common sense, they know their self-worth, their lives do not revolve around other’s opinions of them.

I like my friends. We don’t put labels on our friendships, we just let them be. We know they are special, and although we do not have time in our every day life to communicate, we value them all the same. 

I love my best friends. Why? Because their friendship is unconditional.

 

 


A letter to a grave five thousand miles away.

I wish I never promised.
I wish I could have stayed. 
I wish that life had granted us more time,
More laughter,
More breakfasts together
More more more,
But less pain.

And maybe you didn’t know,
But every time I said goodbye, my heart broke.
I loved your home, your laughter, your love for all of life.
You didn’t pick and choose, you saw beauty where I saw chaos.
Your world view inspires me, I take it with me through life’s journey.
I want to see the world how you saw it.
I want to sit and chat and learn.
I miss your wisdom and sincerity.
I miss you.  


I miss you, Grandpa.

And I don’t know if you know that I miss you.
I miss my summer visits, when we’d eat brunch just you and I.
I miss our late night conversations, over milk and pie.
I miss you laughing at my fear of bugs and spiders.
I miss your stupid dog – you know, the one who would growl and show me his perfect teeth.
I miss you teaching me to ride your horse.
I miss the way you hid my bike so nobody else would take it.

I miss your big, calloused hands waving in the air telling me stories of the past.
I miss your radiant smile, and how your blue blue eyes shined when you spoke.
I miss the way you said goodbye – so kind, so gentle, so quiet, yet so full of love.
If anybody has taught me what it is to love, without having to say “I love you,” it was you.
We all felt so much love, even through the distance.
We all felt important, exciting, intelligent, and  good enough in that house you built,
We all feel blessed, to have had such an amazing, strong, brave, and wise man in our lives.

Thank you, Grandpa, for making my life better
Thank you for teaching me to seek happiness, even when life is bitter.

I miss you, Grandpa. You were and always will be my hero. <3
Rest in peace.


Words Behind Bars

There is so much to say,
But so little silence.
So many thoughts –
But sleep creeps in, and then they are lost
Lost, lost, lost forever in dreamland.

Every confusion, every mistake –
Speaks and never ceases to attack
The helpless mind, that has no alternative but to call it a day,
Admits defeat, but refuses to quit trying…
Tomorrow, tomorrow:  thoughts will be free.

But there is no time to let one’s mind wander.
And there is so little courage to grant freedom to words.
Everyday, tedious tasks occupy ninety-nine percent of our thinking faculties,
Everyday, our own judgmental inclinations seal our lips and freeze our tongues-
Yet we continue to justify our silence to ourselves,  claiming it arises out of fear of criticism from others.

Thus, words remain behind bars.
Thoughts remain in compartments in our hearts.
They are factors in our decision-making processes, our value judgments, our emotions.
They define our perception of the world, yet they are buried, hidden, obscure, personal.
They define our relationships with others, ourselves, our surroundings.
So powerful, so secret, but yet so universal.


Mr. Meets-My-Criteria is not always Mr. Right

Note: This is a personal story, and sharing it makes me feel even more awful for breaking a heart. I hope I can forgive myself one day, just like he forgave me.  I apologize for the cheesiness in this story beforehand, but this was one of the many lessons in my life that has taught me to seek pure happiness- the kind that comes from within, rather than  the “happiness” that is defined for us by society, by our friends, and by our own insecurities.

There once was a boy.
He was wonderful, witty, funny, and charming.
He was from a well to-do family.
He was tall, handsome, and very sweet.
He spoke my language, he understood my culture, he knew my family.

I was visiting family in a small, small town where everybody knew everybody else.
I met him randomly, he was on his motorcycle.
I was awkward, skinny, and jet lagged.

He was good friends with my girl friends, and he shook my hand and said, “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
I smiled and laughed, and said I needed to go, but that I’d probably see him around.

Later that day, I was surprised by him visiting my friend’s house [where I was at].
He showed up with a bouquet full of hand-picked field daisies – my absolute favorite.

He smiled and gave them to me, and said, “I saw these and I thought of how I met you earlier this day, and wanted to give them to you as a welcoming gift. Hope you enjoy your time here.”
And with that, he drove away.
My friends giggled, and said that he’s just a gentleman.

We became friends, he would call, we would hang out with our mutual friends.
We were just friends, just friends, just friends.
But he liked me, and everyone knew, but there were complications.

He had a girlfriend. Her name was Victoria.
She was bossy, and mean, and she didn’t treat him well.
But she was his girlfriend, and I didn’t want to interfere.

He left her. He said she didn’t appreciate all that he did for her.
He was tired and he knew she wasn’t the kind of girl he wanted to be with.

He was so nice to me, so very nice.
He would get me flowers randomly, he would bring me ice cream from my favorite place, even though they closed before 2 in the morning.

He was sweet, and he liked me, and he gave me more attention than I’ve ever even wanted.
And I liked it, not him, but the attention.

He liked my curly hair, and asked me not to straighten it, or “whatever you do to it.”
He liked my awkwardness, my laugh, my random singing.
He didn’t think I was too skinny.
He didn’t mind my pickiness with food, my indecisiveness, my fears.
He was always, always there when I needed him to be.
And he liked all the things I myself hated about myself.
He made me feel like the most important person in the world.
He was a keeper – that’s what they all said.

But I didn’t like him.
I liked that he fit the criteria I had for a future boyfriend.
He fit it so well.
I liked the attention he gave me, how he was proud of me in front of his friends.
I liked that he was a nice guy.
I liked everything about him, but I didn’t like him.

So I pretended to like him.
I thought maybe one day I would actually like him.
He told me he loved me,
I smiled and hugged him and didn’t say it back.

A few weeks later, he asked me if I felt that way about him,
Since I never said “I love you” back.
So I didn’t know what to do, and I had never loved a boy before,
And thought – maybe this is love and that’s all there is to it..
So, I let the lie come out of my mouth – I love you.

He was happy, and I was happy that he was happy.
And maybe this was forever, but I was confused.

I didn’t love him, I knew that, but what if I never found anybody better than him to love me.
And I really knew that he truly loved me.

But after a few months, and some distance – we fell apart.
Or, rather, my pretending fell apart.
He would call every day, he was sweet and hopeful and everything I could have ever asked for.
But I told him that we couldn’t do this anymore.
He asked me if there was somebody else, and there really wasn’t anybody else.

I told him he was perfect, that he couldn’t have loved me better.
I told him that it wasn’t his fault, it was honestly me.
And this was the most truthful I had every been with him.

But I don’t think he believed me – He thought there was someone else, he thought it was his fault, he thought all of my kind breaking-this-up words were just attempts to make him feel better.
But I was truthful, and I honestly knew he deserved someone who could return his love and kindness.
I wanted to at least LIKE him, and I tried really hard to, but I just didn’t.
And I don’t know why, but I guess that sometimes Mr. Meets-My-Criteria is not always Mr. Right.

We parted ways, he was still a sweetheart.
He’d call on my birthday, on Christmas, and sometimes randomly a few times a month.
We would talk about life, we would laugh about good memories, we were just friends.
But in his good-byes I knew it wasn’t okay.
He wasn’t okay, and I really, really needed him to be okay.

I broke his heart. He told me that.
I saw him a year later, and he hugged me, told me I looked better than ever.
He asked if I would have tea and dessert with him that day.
I figured that that was the least I could do for him.

I apologized. I said I needed to do it in person, rather than on the phone.
He asked me to stop, he said he forgave me a long time ago.
He said he wished that things didn’t end the way they did,
He said he wished things just didn’t end at all.
I said that I was surprised he didn’t hate me,
He said, “Honey, I could never hate you.”
I almost cried. He was too nice to me.

We dropped the topic of “us” and talked about other stuff.
He said he’d dated a few girls, and that they couldn’t compare with me.
I laughed, and told him that that was ridiculous.
He laughed, and thanked me for changing his standards.

It was a nice evening, with an old friend whose heart I broke.

He took me home, and I asked him to please forget about me.
He looked sad, really sad. He said he wouldn’t forget, but that he was learning to let go.
He wished me luck and happiness in my current relationship, and he was sincere.

He finally let go. He has found happiness. We’re both happy.
But I have yet to forgive myself for breaking a heart that was so kind to me.

And from this I learned a lesson:
I learned to trust my instincts.
I learned that you can’t force yourself to love someone.
I learned that just because someone is amazing, they may not be for me to keep.
I learned that being truthful is important, always.

 

12202011