* Recently, I have been debating whether or not I should keep this page up on my blog. I decided to keep it (mainly because I am not tech savvy enough to save it on my Mac, without somehow accidentally deleting the files), but also because I feel as though they are prime example of how far my writing as come – and they are good for nostalgic purposes, ya know? 🙂
May 21, 2013
sometimes when it’s late at night i think about all the memories and all the possibilities that has become my life. i think of all the boys i have loved, the boys i will always love, and the one single man who i yet to meet that will capture my heart forever. and i think of all the songs that i have listened to that have made me cry and have given my goosebumps, and all the songs that have i yet to hear. the places i have seen, the hands i have touched and everything else in between. i feel blessed to have seen those amazing places and met such amazing people, and i think about the sadness that i experienced just a few short months ago, and this place where i am now seemed to have been so out of reach that even the thought of my future seemed hazy. and then i think of who i am now and what i want to accomplish in this life that i have been blessed with; often, i find myself becoming overwhelmed with all the possibilities of this life that i am living – traveling, working, laughing, eating, speaking, – often i think common gestures and common language is taken for granted. smiling – especially smiling. people don’t do it often enough, they underestimate the value of a single smile. well, i can assure you that i am smiling – something that was very hard to do just a few short months ago.
it gets better.
May 6, 2013
back when i was in high school, there was once this boy that i adored. he had jet black hair and crystal blue eyes and he knew exactly what to say to make my stomach turn into knots, and just like every charming boy, he knew how to wheel me back in just when i thought i had moved on.
this was in high school, and as pathetic as it sounds i honestly thought that i could give this boy my entire world – but, thankfully i always went with the little voice in my head that said “no, emily. he is not the one for you. you deserve more, you deserve better.” and i knew that i did, but he somehow made me feel special, he was the person i stayed up all night thinking about and i wrote a thousand pretty words about him, and we had slow danced and kissed a thousand more times in my head.
but i never kissed him and we never slow danced. in the words of Elizabeth Gilbert, it was definitely desperate love as she described when she said “in desperate love, we always invent the characters of our partners, demanding they be what we need of them, and then feeling devastated when they refuse to perform the role.”
so he was my desperate love. i had waited for him to fulfill my expectations and he never did. and looking back, he didn’t really make me feel whole. sure, he told me pretty things and he held my hand perfectly, but could i call him up in the middle of the night when i felt alone and missed my grandmother? no. could i discuss to him my favorite novels and my dreams and deepest secrets? definitely not.
if i could tell my 17 year old emily what i know now i would tell her “wait, stop no he isn’t your perfect fit. don’t force a love that isn’t there. damnit emily, just wait for something great. who the hell told you it was okay to settle?”
i suppose why i am even bringing up “my not so perfect fit” is mainly because i will see this said jet black haired boy this weekend for the first time in a year, and now i am almost certain that i will see him without a single butterfly, knowing perfectly well who i am, and what i want, and what i want is not to settle – i want passionate, mad, drive-me-crazy kind of love; not mediocre.
stupid 17 year old emily, who told you you couldn’t be without this boy? whatever made you think he deserved you.
just wait, wait for your magical perfect fit.
May 4, 2013
Sometimes I find myself wanting to be by myself traveling the world and meeting new people and seeing extravagant places and be independently on my own. A few friends maybe, but no significant other. Just me and the world and no worries.
and then there are those times where I would kill to have someone I love to share the world with.
but then there’s those quick little moments where I wish I could go back in time to being a preteen girl whose only worry was Harry Styles.
Each day I feel differently about different things and I do things spontaneously. For example, today I was craving avocados so i went to the store, came home and made a recipe of guacamole. Or the other day when I decided I just needed to begin reading all the novels on the time’s best novels list.
so i did. and i read the great gatsby in one single day. and then i read another, and although it wasn’t on the best sellers list, i still found myself crying my eyes out at the perfect words stitched together and i underlined all my favorite words and now i hold it close to my heart.
extremely loud and incredibly close – go read it.
now i have a pile of books scattered across my desk, and i am in love with each and every one and i haven’t even read it yet.
the other day i was at target and i couldn’t decide which color of lipstick to buy so i bought one of every color – because i was too indecisive. i passed math – and i cried because now i am done with math. numbers and i do not get along. that is why, from a very young age i decided to fall in love with words instead.
i signed up for a taylor swift contest too, so i could see ed sheeran as her opening act. and i won. and i cried because i have never won anything in my entire life.
and i chopped my hair off just because i was tired of it being long, and now my shoulders feel bare and my skin is beginning to look sun kissed from the sun.
i sat with my dad on our back porch last night and we talked about europe next summer. and i wanted to cry.
too end this post, i just want to make it clear that there have been plenty of times when i have cried tears of sorrow and confusion, and a lot of the time, frustration. but tears aren’t really a bad thing. for one they make us human and it means we are alive, at least that is what i would tell myself each time i felt ashamed for crying alone all those times. but i have cried a lot lately, but it’s been for happy and relieved things, like the fact that i no longer have to look at one more damn math problem and the fact that i somehow won front row concert tickets, and the fact the i’ll be moving away from home next summer although i don’t know if those tears were actually sad or happy or maybe a bit of both.
or maybe, though, i am just a crier.
April 8, 2013
things i learned this weekend.
spring still smells the same even after ten months of absence.
not everyone on this earth will think you are beautiful, or funny, or find your weirdness to be cute.
and, that’s okay.
feelings come back in the blink of an eye, no matter how many months you spent trying to forget them.
jimmy johns beach club is the greatest sub to have ever been in existence – especially at 2am.
sometimes, even in the city of Cincinnati will you find good men who will contact you letting you know you left your drivers’ licence at their house.
chilli mac will make you feel as though you have gained a thousand pounds. it is best to eat it out of a bowl you built yourself.
things that you enjoyed when you were young, will eventually turn into memories. it’s sad, but you just have to accept it and move on.
don’t be sad when you can’t fit into the juniors’ department at the mall. it doesn’t mean you’ve gained weight, you’re just turning into a woman.
sometimes you have grow apart from people that were once your closest friends,
and eventually that will be okay too.
April 2, 2013
if i could write you a lullaby it would not be full of words.
it would be verses full of soft whispers and choruses of gentle laughter.
it would be your smile under the sheets, with the sunlight setting in during the early hours of the morning.
it would be the smell of morning coffee and the sight of my hand in yours while i read the morning paper,
and the smiles we share as we laugh at the comics on the front porch.
mostly it would be “i love yous” and “thank you for being mine.”
my lullaby for you would be late night conversations and caresses upon your skin.
it would be the combination of butterflies and secret glances and traveling and opening up the deepest parts of ourselves.
opening so much, that i will be comfortable enough to share this lullaby with you.
but for now, all i can say is
i do not know you yet,
but one day you will be my soul mate. you will be my best friend.
one day, when i am comfortable enough
this will be your lullaby.
March 31, 2013
I’m 15 and I’m sitting in a dark movie theater holding hands with a boy who sported crystal eyes of blue.
I loved him. He didn’t love me back. All I ever wanted was his heart.
I’m 17 and I find myself lying on my family room floor with my head on his chest and I still loved him and he was warm and he felt like home.
I loved him. He was my best friend. He chose her. All I ever wanted was his heart.
I’m 18, wearing a purple cap and gown as I walk across the graduation stage. I accept my diploma and I smile at him sitting in the stands with my fellow graduates.
I loved him. He was so close but still so far away. All I ever wanted was his heart.
I’m 19 and I’m sitting in a small corner café with someone new, but he has brown eyes and he walks differently than the boy before and he doesn’t like country music and he doesn’t feel warm and he makes me laugh but he doesn’t feel like home.
I thought I loved him. I wanted his heart, but then realized he didn’t deserve mine.
It’s been awhile.
I’m 20 and I have forgotten the feel of his chest and I have forgotten the touch of his hands.
It’s been awhile
I still get butterflies at the sound of his name and I still remember the sound of his voice and the face he would make at the feeling of frustration. I still remember his crystal eyes of blue. He still makes me laugh.
It’s been awhile
After all this time,
All I ever want is his heart.
March 20, 2013
i hadn’t seen you in months – last may to be exact, when you didn’t know who you were and you seemed lost, almost. My last memory of you is of you standing on the side walk with a cigarette in your hand and you were wearing your green jacket and your scruff had turned into a beard and you had just broken my heart. I was holding back tears as you were puffing the last of your cigarette and I had already begun to miss you before I even dropped you off at your house. It was sunny and the birds were chirping in my backyard when I got home but I went up into my room and I cried.
I cried for several days after that.
But, seeing you now you looked better. You no longer had a beard but your scruff was still there and you were wearing a gray sweater and your hair wasn’t as shaggy as it was before and I could see your chocolate brown eyes and I missed you and my body longed to hold you in my arms, but I didn’t. We sat down in a room that was painted a bright yellow, and I sat beside you on the floor next to the window.
“you look good.” I whispered. “i’m glad.”
you smiled and you laughed. Your laugh was haunting, like a song I hadn’t heard in awhile; a song you loved, but wanted to hate. you looked at me and I looked away, and then you came closer to me and we both sat on the wooden floor to look out the window and into the city street. The street was cobblestone, and it was raining. There was a brick building across the street.
Everyone was walking along the street going about their lives and I was falling in love all over again.
I rested my head on your shoulder and it reminded me of that November night several months ago when I rested my head on your shoulder for the first time and you smiled because you knew, you knew we were falling for each other. But, this time in this yellow room the feel of my head on your shoulder was a familiar feeling, like my head had never left your shoulder. It was the perfect fit.
Just like we were – the perfect fit. At least that’s what I like to tell myself anyways.
And even though I was next to you, I still missed you and I took your hand and intertwined your fingers with mine and they still felt the same. The still felt small and smooth and our hands fit perfectly together. Just like us, they were the perfect fit.
And while I kept telling myself “he and I are we. we are the perfect fit. we are the perfect fit.“
I woke up. I was in my pink room, and I was alone in my bed and you weren’t there beside me anymore. My heart felt heavy, a feeling it hadn’t felt in quite some time.
I wish you and I had been the perfect fit.
February 6, 2013
you can learn a lot about yourself in an hour.
like when you’re sitting on the campus bus driving on Woodruff and the cute boy from your Spanish class begins talking to you about yesterday’s exam. The conversation lasts only ten minutes, but as soon as you get off the bus, a thousand scenarios run through your head. You only know his name but you imagine you and him together, maybe holding hands and laughing at stupid jokes and maybe he likes tea as much as you do and maybe he likes to watch cartoons on Saturday mornings.
You learn that you fall in love with people too easily.
or when you’re driving home on the interstate and the car in front of you is having a hard time staying straight in his lane. You decide to go around him, annoyed at his lack of driving abilities. You come to a stop light and the car is to your left. You see it’s an elderly man with large spectacles. He drives ahead of you and as you watch him struggle to maintain his car, you remember your elderly grandmother and her green Chevy that she used to drive. You remember how she was short, and for a short while before she died she contemplated sitting on a stack of telephone books so she could see over her steering wheel.
You learn that no matter how much time has passed, little things will always remind you of her.
And then you are standing in line for your Chipotle order and send a text to a friend telling him that you’re changing your major to English to the response of “Ewwwww. I hate English.” You shrug, and respond with “Well, it’s my major and you don’t have to like it.”
You learn that other people’s opinions don’t really matter as long as you’re happy.
You finally order your burrito bowl: white rice, chicken, extra tomatoes, sour cream, cheese and lettuce. You pay, and the woman at the register hands you your food and says with a smile, “see you next week!”
You learn that maybe you eat Chipotle just a little too often.
January 22, 2013
tonight i sat in the middle of my family room, making funny faces at my iphone.
making funny faces for my friends on snapchat.
my mom laughed at the faces i was making.
she laughed so hard tears were streaming down her face.
i began to laugh. and tears came streaming down mine.
she thought the tears were caused by the same thing that hers was;
but they weren’t.
they were happy tears though; caused by simply watching my mother laugh.
i had forgotten what it had sounded like. i was starting to forget what it looked like when she smiled.
December 30, 2011
January was full of weak knees, sweaty palms and first kisses. it brought both heartache and smiles. it is full of images of dance circles, thousands of prayers and meaningful letters. it is full of the song “heaven” by Brett Dennen, the saying “live the fourth” and the knowledge that everyone is fighting their own battle. February was full of snow, dance raves, and traveling to the countryside. it was full of the question “why?” and the saying “the class of 2011 has lost own of they’re own.” it was full of tears and hugs with the whisper, “if you ever need me, I will always be here.” Most importantly, it was full of the knowledge that you should always tell the ones who matter just how much you love them. March was a blur and to my disappointment, it was not full of much knowledge and just left a hole in my chest. April brought many rainy days, fake smiles and meaningless laughter. it brought the words “depression” and “therapist” to reality. it was full of useless text messages and the knowledge that you can’t rely on other people to bring you happiness; only you can do that. May brought many goodbyes and the words “graduation” and “congratulations.” it has images of my friends and I walking across the stage wearing purple gowns, and the sound of clapping hands in the background. it is full of hair dye, hand holding, and parties. It is full of the knowledge that “every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.” June is full of floral rompers, Comfest and ice cream scoopers. It is full of fender benders, new friends and wonderful laughs. It is full of familiarity and heartache and very much anger. It left the knowledge of knowing that in order to find yourself, you must first lose yourself. July brought fireworks, warm nights, Tim Hortons and one hard goodbye. It holds images of shooting stars, kayaking, and skinny dipping under a brightly lit moon. It holds the knowledge that best friends truly are the best therapy. August brought many many goodbyes and new beginnings. it brought the meaning of “bucket lists” to life, the feeling of nostalgia and was full of countless hours of Eminem music. it holds the knowledge of life and how it can be hard, but it moves on, and you should too. September brought “wings, talks, and bromances.” it brought lazy days, the sense of longing for familiar people and places, and the feeling of being stuck in place. It holds the knowledge that if you are patient, amazing things will happen when they are meant to. October was full of forty five minute drives and roosters breaks. it was full of Arcade Fire and M83. it holds the images of High Street and Halloween costumes. It was the month I let certain friendships go and watched my brother pack up his life and move away. It was the month I met him and I haven’t been the same since. It left the knowledge of knowing that you meet the most important people at the most unexpected times, and that some things are just meant to be. November was full of Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer and rum. It was full of Crunk Jams 11′ and butterflies. it was full of plaid shirts, Bon Iver, and birthday wishes. It was full of wonderful text messages, deep conversations, and acoustic guitars. It holds the knowledge of knowing that true happiness exists, so much so that it makes you want to cry with joy. December brought the phrase “i think we should just be friends” and frustration. it is full of Hookah, more hair dye, and sadness. it is full of jean shorts and black tights. it holds the images of christmas trees and glasses full of smirnoff. it is full of glitter, Gregory Alan Isakov and more questions of “why?” it is full of the words cancer and addiction and more sadness. It holds the knowledge of being thankful for what you have in your life, but sometimes it holds more questions rather than knowledge. And, on this night, December 30 I realize that I am exactly back where I started this year – heartache and the questions of why – and I don’t really know how I feel about that.
But then I remember that I am incredibly blessed, and that makes me feel better.