I Took A Mental Picture

On Saturday, after power H&M accessory shopping with my mom (we sent dad off to comparison price digital cameras so that one day my blog might be pretty), the parents dropped me off at GYM's place in downtown Seattle.

Usually on the weekends, I'm about the doing, the going, the creating of food or shopping for food or at the very least planning what foods I must shop for in order to create something tasty. But this weekend, I just didn't have it in me. So I went in his room, flopped on the bed and pulled my book out of my purse. And started laughing.

Laughing because of what a ridiculously old couple we already resemble. Here I was, wearing my Sounders FC sweatshirt and reading Don't Know Much About History. Him wearing his Chelsea FC jersey and reading a book about Arabian history. Every once in a while, we would move to check an FB message or scroll through LL. After about an hour, we split a Carnevale Ale while watching the Sounders game with our computers on our laps, turning the Mariners game on the radio about an hour later.

I had no camera. But Saturday afternoon is captured perfectly in my memory. We fit together. We rest well together.

Love in the Time Of Anberlin

Some things in life are unforgettable

I haven't been keeping up with this blog recently. The busy-ness of having an office job combined with tutoring, editing, and baseball has taken a bit of a toll. But here I am, sitting in front of a chapter on the IPE of food, and I can't concentrate. My mind keeps drifting, and it keeps returning to a heavy subject: the nature of love.

If this isn't love, this is the closest I've ever been

I've always felt that love is love, and when you love one person you should have no feelings for someone else. But is that really possible? If someone breaks into our heart, breaks it apart and wedges their way inside, does it always get stitched back together again?

I don't care now where we live; it's not where, or what, or who we were with

As I get older, I find it harder to keep naive illusions of love. When I first fell in love four years ago, I thought it had the power to conquer anything. Distance. Culture. Beliefs. The past. You fall in love, you stay in love, and you get through everything.

Give me time to prove
Prove I want the rest of yours
Call this a prelude to a lifetime of you

Falling in love now, I realize that's really what it is--a process. You fall and you keep falling, learning about the other person, figuring out their flaws and faults and marveling over the connectedness. Love isn't about drama and roller coasters. It is intense and building and strong. That's what I know right now.

And my world still turns when you're not around

It's the in-between, the second love, that's where I get stuck. It's a love that defies logic, that shouldn't exist, that hovers unrequited. I can't see its beginning and it had no heart-felt reason to end. This is the love that forced me to face up to my romantic notions, to acknowledge that my life is not a song lyric and I won't be rescued by a dashing man on a white horse. Sometimes love has to end before it really gets its chance to begin.

Steal a kiss yet and call us friends
Distance is the thief in which you conspire

But the problem is that I haven't been able to completely close that tear in my heart. There's still a weak spot. I'm still vulnerable. And I have this fear that I can't be good enough, can't be giving a good enough love, if I didn't give him my entire heart.

Could've been more but at least you're still my day late friend

Slow down, you're falling asleep in traffic.

I am, right now, absolutely knackered. It's been a rough week. I know sometimes I take on way too much, and then get frustrated when I can't execute everything flawlessly. Work's been stressful, some friendships have been tense, the house is a disaster, I have tons of co-op stuff and I had an exam this week.

I forget sometimes how much emotions can weigh me down. But at the same time, there's so many bright sparkles in my day that I can't find myself completely overcome with the negative.

I have a list of at least 20 things to do this weekend.

I don't think I want to read about the debates.

I'm going to miss baseball. Can baseball change a life? Possibly. That's what I'm thinking right now anyway. Dad probably agrees. Strange that I'm going to miss baseball in a season in which we've lost over 100.

I miss blogging. My brain really seems to be lacking its ability to analyze and synthesize ideas. I have plenty of thoughts of what to write about, but never the opportunity to sit down and put them into the world.

I wish I were going to disneyland. Family. I miss thee.

The market and I have lost each other. Although it's unlikely I'll make it up by the time of work, I'll have to stop by tomorrow, if only to check on Lucy, my vendor. I miss market work and honestly, if I could make it a living I would.

The bed looks delicious right now.

Recently I learned e e cummings did not actually put the periods in his name, but rather journalists/reviewers added them to poke fun at his style of punctuation. I would like to find out more about this but I am too exhausted. Also I have a sudden desire to learn more about greek mythology. and the immune system.

since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;

wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry
- the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids' flutter which says

we are for each other; then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph

And death i think is no parenthesis