Diamond Fool

How do you tell someone that you love them and yet not love them at the same time?

My heart hurts that I even write this because I wish it wasn't true.

He says I am the one.

But I am not so confident.

He asks me.

I say yes, but don't know why.

I wish I knew what love felt like. I thought I knew, but it wasn't this, not exactly. I guess it's different. I am too young. Too inexperienced to know what I hold is precious.

And worst of all, I yearn for something different and I don't know why. I feel trapped. I haven't had time to see it all yet. I haven't had my heart broken... I don't even know if it can be broken. I feel so calloused to things sometimes. I do know that I have the power to break his and I desparately don't want to.

But I need some freedom. Freedom to do what? I don't know.

Flirt.

Let my hair down.

Be a fool.

He lets me be who I need to be. He trusts me. He depends on me.

How much more do I need?

He loves me.

Maybe too much.

Is that possible? To be loved too much?

I keep ignoring myself when I think about this. I wish there was someone to tell me if I was just being crazy or not. It takes a lot out of me just to admit this much.

Why can't I be happy with a ruby instead of a diamond? I never cared much for diamonds anyway.

I know what I have is precious. I know that I shouldn't want to give it up. I know it will kill him if I do and I don't want that.

God, I don't want that.

I do love him.

I just don't know about the rest.

Silence

It's funny that yesterday, after all the excitement of friends laughter and a rowdy night, I was suddenly hit with a rush of being alone. The quiet wasn't soothing and I longed for someone to be there. I tried to console myself with a few phone calls but that didn't quite get it for I really had little to say. I was hoping for the person on the other end of the line to say that one thing I needed to hear, though I didn't quite know what it was. And now, this evening, quiet seems to be exactly what I need. Time to myself with just the sound of the wind blowing in my window, fluttering my curtains.

I have accomplished just about everything I need to for the rest of this semester. I should be at least a little satisfied with myself but, oddly, I am not. I feel a bit like a vacant hole that wishes to remain vacant. I feel that the silence is the most comforting things right now.

My terabithian dream didn't happen this summer. They closed my special place this year, quite possibly never to open again, though I refuse to believe it. Thus, I have a new adventure this summer that will hopefully grant me the same feeling my Terabithia has done for the past eleven years.

Terabithia

"Terabithia was their secret, which was a good thing, for how could Jess have ever explained it to an outsider? Just walking down the hill toward the woods made something warm and liquid steal through his body. The closer he came to the dry creek bed and the crab apple tree rope the morehe could feel the beating of his heart. He grabbed the end of the rope and swung out toward the other bank with a kind of wild exhilaration and landed gently on his feet, taller and stronger and wiser in that mysterious land."

There is a place that weaves itself inside my dreams and imagination and threads its very essence into my every breath and being. And though I have a hard time trying to explain my passion for such a ransackle place, people understand that somehow I belong there. My heart gallops ahead of the rest of me when the summer nears. Life in between is just a waiting period until I can return there.

"You've missed it, haven't you?"

All I could do in answer was breath a quiet 'yes', my eyes taking in the wonder that I had been apart from for so many months.

Even now, far away my heart skips a beat when my thoughts turn to there. I thirst for it like I've never wanted for anything else in my life. My eyes go dry for want of tears that wish to roll down my cheeks. I find myself holding my breath on the slight chance that I may never be granted the gift of returning there again. I wish that I could sleep just so I could return there in my dreams.

It is my Terabithia.

It is my home.

Lucky,,,

I went to see him after the baby shower.
I suppose, I should tell you I went to a baby shower in the first place. Stories tend to work better if started from the beginning. It was my first baby shower and to be perfectly honest, I went to see camp and to see MarriedMan not for the baby shower. I brought my present and said my good wishes, played some games and found all the excuses possible to leave the building for long stretches of time.
Baby showers, I've discovered, really aren't my thing.
Babies aren't really my thing. Now maybe this will change in time, I'm still twenty-something but I'm not a big baby fan. I love kids just not babies. I'll adopt, thankyouverymuch. I felt bad on ditching out on the shower as much as possible but the atmosphere was crushing me. I needed the wide open air of camp.

Ah, camp. I've missed it so. I can't even describe what it feels like. I feel like my heart beats anew when I come close to that place. I feel my spirit lifted and wonder replacing any aching sorrow that has buried itself in my heart like spring over coming winter in those very woods. Every fiber of my being is tied to that place.

Besides my mind was all a-tumble over Married Man. Married Man is exactly what he is. Married. And I am very... very... taken myself. And yet, if there was going to be a fling, it would more than likely be with him - not that either of us would ever stoop to that. (Don't tell M! hehehe) Come on now, don't look at me like that, I am not a homewrecker.

He took me around camp on the four-wheeler. Showing me what parts of camp had been wrecked by the loggers coming through the woods I hold so dear, mourning with me over the loss he knew I felt. Pointed out all the things he had saved and fixed, and the things he was still going to do.
My mind was full of discontent thoughts about him, me, my life, M, and what I really wanted. I was hurting for I felt my insides were turning inside out. But the long drive back with my best friend helped me untangle the mess a bit and going home to M was the cure for the rest.

I really am a very lucky girl.

A Rest

Its hard to write when there is always someone there that might look over my shoulder at the monitor. It's not even that I care if people read it. Well, maybe some people. but it's like doing homework with the very music you hate blaring in the background... it just isn't possible. It's distracting in the worst way.
What I wouldn't give for a laptop sometimes. Or, you know, a room to myself. Ah the life of a poor college student with a roomate with a boyfriend with several friends who like to party... in our room with beer. (Crazy country boys, gotta love 'em)
I'm just whining. I love it. Really I do. Sometimes you just need a rest.
A rest.
That's what this week has been about. Was supposed to be about. I suppose, though, that life has a way of changing your mind about what you think you need. Like how I stayed up until four in the morning with the boy. That's a different kind of rest altogether. Oh but, a hot tub and a foot massage. I mean, who can argue with that? That certainly is relaxing, even with the acrobatics that followed...
And now, I'm craving something entirely different...

Infallacies of Love

He asked me to marry him.

half drunk, on the dance floor;

he asked me to marry him,

He said this wasn't it. He was going to do it right.

He said he knew he was drunk but if he asked me tomorrow, what would my answer be?

I told him, "We'll see"

He never asked.

But today, I want to say "yes".

The Uglies

I just can't pull myself out of this slump. I feel awful and nothing is working to lift these frown lines that seem permanently etched onto my face.

I think I know what is the problem. I haven't had any time to myself for the last four days. There's always been someone in my room. I haven't been able to hide and bare the uglies. I have this block when someone else is in the room, I can't write, I can't think. I guess I'm just too much of a hostess. I let my guests run the show and I just accomadate them. I haven't had the time to release my emotions, and all this backed up baggage is really weighing me down.

And now that I have the time and space to let it loose, I can't. I have the sneaking fear that if I start unpacking that someone is going to walk in and I'll have to make a big rush to shove it all under the rug. And I might miss something, like a tear running down my cheek and then I'll never get rid of them.

*sigh*

I need a break from people. I need a three hour trail ride. I need some fresh air, wind blowing my hair. I need sunshine and a bubbling brook.

Most of all, I think I need to cry.

But then , why won't the tears some?