One More

This frustrates me. It is one of those nights which, if blessed with time and opportunity, I feel I could create something magical: the perfect string of words, banding together to express an idea. If only.

But alas, I've been blessed with a much-needed job to which I will be called at 8:30 tomorrow morning, and therefore have no time for writing miraculous epiphanies tonight. It is unfortunate, but cannot be helped.
And so goodnight. I will say only that the dawn will bring one final day of heady preparation before at last I will stand and say goodbye.

Tonight

Tonight all I can write is sentimental nonsense. None of it really matters, but writing it seems to help me.

I've been trying to remember; how dreadfully sick and torn apart I felt not so very long ago. But I can't. All I feel is...nothing. I'm not sure why. Tonight I should be singing with joy. I'm done. I'm free. I'm absolutely ready. But I don't feel anything. The memory of anger still lingers, but I don't want to feel that, not ever again. Then also, I can remember feeling joy, pure and sweet. It was beautiful.

Right now I just feel sort of hollow, and contrary to how it might seem, I'm enjoying it.

I'm going back there soon, that joyful place. I'm building something. I think it's a life of my own, but I'm not quite sure yet. I'm tired. I don't know if I can do this. But instead of doing what I would have a few months ago and staying up until three o'clock to cry about it, I believe I'll just go to bed and try to dream of pleasant things.

One. More. Day.

She pulled her hand away.

Ouch.

There in that moment I felt that the voluminous sixty seconds that followed were the longest and most horrible seconds of my entire life.

"Eww," She said. "That's gross!"

I melted into a pool of shame, staring at the ground. It was the equivalent of an ostrich reaction, and did nothing to stop the beams of eyesight that all swung into my soul. They were all staring at me now. I knew it even though I couldn't see them watching me.

"Robby?" Miss Kensing asked me quietly, as their stares drew her attention. "What's wrong?"

"His hands are gross!" Ambria shouted, her tongue clacking wildly.

I scrunched up my face, waiting for an unstoppable river. Tears slipped out.

"Boys and girls, go back to your game." Miss Kensing said to the others. "Come over here Robby." She directed me gently.

"I'm sorry." I said bitterly, wishing violent thoughts upon Ambria Cashton's head.

"What are you sorry for?" She asked me.

"For being...gross."

"Robby, you're not gross. You're just human. Everybody has gross things about them." Miss Kensing smiled, her lovely, crooked smile.

"You don't Miss Kensing." I said impulsively, forgetting my tears in adoration of my teacher. She was perfect. I blushed shyly.

"Oh yes I do. Although it's very sweet of you to say that. I have a lot of gross things about me. You might be surprised."

"You're not gross at all though! You're beautiful."

"The gross things I have aren't on the outside, Robby. They're in my soul."

"What's a soul?"

"It's your inner being. It's what makes you, you."

"Is it in my stomach?"

"No." She smiled again, laughing a little.

"What makes yours gross?"

"All the bad things I've done and thought."

"I think bad things too sometimes." I said, nodding sympathetically. "Like, I wish Ambria would get warts or sit down in the mud. Those types of bad things?"

She looked down at me again, with her gentle lips curving, but her eyes were sad.

"Some much worse than that, I'm afraid." She patted my hand. "But do you know what?"

"What?" I asked.

"I used to let the bad things convince me that I could never be good, which isn't true at all. Gross people can be cleaned off, like mud off shoes." She motioned to the brown smears on my laces. "So don't worry okay? You're no more gross than anyone else, just because of a little sweat and dirt."

"Okay." I said.

Today

I'd like to share with you one of the things I just love. I love it when people share their opinions with me when I didn't ask for them! It is just so necessary to my existence. Like, I literally think I would die if I didn't know how everyone felt about my life and my personality and my car and my eating habits. How on earth would I survive without all my friends telling me what I'm doing wrong? It sure is nice of them. Now I know just how to fix myself! Isn't it wonderful?

Okay, rant over. 

On another note, I got a whoppin' big medal today. And a customer called me "dear" and was very sweet. I love nice customers. Somehow being called "dear" can make a world that seems dim and dreary feel lovely and sweet again. Like thinking that you're having dry cheerios for breakfast and waking up to discover that your dad has made waffles. 'Tis a splendid thing. So thank you to those two very nice women who brightened my day today! 

5/29/14

"Don't cry," She told me. "Crying won't fix anything. It's all in your head. You just have to toughen up a bit."

"That's the worst advice I've ever heard," I replied bitterly.

"Don't be so sensitive."

"I can't help it," I choked.

"Learn to help it. Life's not fair kiddo. And you don't even know how good you've got it."

I resisted the temptation to smash a nearby book across her foot. In imagination I relished the satisfaction such an action would bring, but in reality I only grimaced and rose to my feet, ready to spit fire. I swallowed it back, and settled.

5/25/14

Send me peace on the wings of a dove

Its gentleness may lend me courage where I have none

Its loveliness may give me hope 

The lightest burden lifts off at last 

And all heaviness falls away

Where moments ago my bitter heart cried out, 

Now it sings to You in praise 

I'm thankful

But tomorrow is coming

And my fears will crash around me

Send me peace in the midst of trouble

Courage and kindness in the valleys of failure 

Let my fears suffocate and die 

Give me the strength I need to call out to You and forgive 

Give me the how 

Give me the grace

Give me peace

And I'll thank You for a thousand years

Help me love again

I wish to be filled up with love and grace

As I once was 

I linger on now in doubt and darkness 

But you send me help

Make it last through the dawn

Please 

Let me love when I am angry, hope when I am lonely, and wait when I am empty

Fill me up 

And help me be as I once was

Without wrath and bitter tears 

But the peace of purity 

Lasting always 

Loving 

Hoping 

Believing 

You have everything I don't 

So send me peace on the wings of a soft, gentle dove 

And give me courage 

Give me love

5.22.14.

It wasn't until she started speaking, that I realized just how bad it was going to be.

In the millisecond between recognizing that Mia was about to unleash some major anger, and feeling the unexpected lump be born in my throat, I flashed back to the way things had been only a few moments before.

We'd just been sitting there inside the Papa Peete's, wolfing down cheese and pepperoni. I had been trying not to acknowledge the growing glare on her face. Preston and Avery both prattled bravely on, eyeing one another nervously every few seconds. Mia had been sitting in stone silence. The worst of it was, although I'd known since we sat down that she was mad, even at this moment I had not even the faintest clue what she was mad about.

"See you later, Jason." Avery had said kindly, her blonde locks curling silkily around her face the way they always did when the humidity got really bad. She had smiled, but her eyes added, "If you make it out of this alive," to the goodbye.

Preston didn't even say goodbye; he was too frozen stiff by Mia's stare. When they left I knew what was coming, but I didn't want to accept it.

"Why do you always take everything so seriously?" Mia demanded, five minutes into a whip-lashed argument. I was dazed.

"Me?"

"You always jump to conclusions and act like everything's such a big deal!" She said, her voice slathering with hypocrisy. I smiled. I couldn't help it.

"What?!" She hissed. "Why are you laughing!"

"Because you're acting like a child!" The instant the words rippled out, I could feel my stomach leap up and try to pull them back in.

Mia burst into tears. "I can't do this with you right now!" She shrieked shrilly, heading for her car. For the first time since we'd met, I didn't chase after her.

My Tantrum of the Day

Okay well I'm done being a writer. I'm done attempting to create meaning out of my life. I'm just going to accept everything and go on being the worlds failurest failure that ever failed. So who even cares about anything ever I'm just going to pass out and give up and be like everybody else and go do stupid things to be happy I guess because nothing matters or has mattered or ever will matter ever again so long as I'm just this huge collossal screw up who can't even spell freaking colossal right for pity's sake. The end.


Okay, a few hours have passed and my tantrum is over. I made it work. Guess I won't dismiss the meaning of life just like that. Sigh.

Song

Just say the word, my darling, and I'll fly away across the skies with you
Just say "Go," and we'll go
Just say "Stay," and we'll stay
Just say anything that I may hear your voice
And sigh
And sing
You're everything
So just say the word
My darling

Tomorrow could be
The best day of our lives
It's all up to you to decide
I won't say anything
You make the wishes my darling
And we'll fly
Fly fly

So just say the word, my darling, and I'll take you by the hand
Just say "Run," and we'll run
Just say "Rest," and we'll rest
Just say anything that I might hear
That pretty voice of yours speaking
And singing
You're everything
So just say the word
My darling

A surprising story that came out of nowhere

I'm very discouraged tonight. I haven't got much to say. Sometimes I think writing about me and life and trouble and toil is easier than writing a story. It never used to be that way. Maybe it's because now I'm too grown up---I've lost sight of that inner child, that hammy drama queen with brown pig-tails that used to speak her mind. I make believe a lot still, but nothing anyone would want to read. Maybe nobody will ever read my writing, but I guess that's nothing to stop me from keeping on. After all, it helps me more than it helps anybody else. Even this has helped me a lot. Maybe I'll tackle another attempt at a story excerpt.



"I can't wait." Macy said, sighing heavily as she stared up at the sky. A shimmery window of blue was fighting its way through the clouds like a shiny penny lying on dull pavement. The school yard was practically empty now. The other students were mostly filing into their classes, walking through the hallways and laughing or glaring. 

Elizabeth nodded. 

"I just can't wait to get somewhere new, somewhere I can have a fresh start. I want to discover who I am, you know what I mean?" Macy asked, drawing her eyes away from the sky and back to her friend's face. Elizabeth shook her head. 

"No. I know who I am." She said simply. 

"Really?" Macy couldn't help being slightly skeptical. No eighteen-year-old knew exactly who they were. "What makes you think so?" 

Elizabeth shrugged. "I think I've always known it." She said. 

"How?" Macy was jealous and grateful at the same time. Life would feel too complete somehow, if she knew just who she was and who she wanted to be. But then again, she craved stability and assurance. She wondered what it would feel like to be like Elizabeth. She wasn't sure she would like it. 

Elizabeth was staring at the sky now too, but her eyes roved the tree tops where a solitary red kite was bobbing cheerfully. 

"I don't know," She said. "But I think it's like that." She pointed to the kite. "I'm a kite. My job is to make people look. Eventually, if I'm flying well enough, looking at me won't be enough, and people will have to look down at the One holding the end of the rope." She smiled. 

Macy didn't know what to say. She stared over at the kite, and maybe because of the analogy, suddenly felt herself longing to know who held onto the other end. 

"I don't always understand it myself," Elizabeth was adding. "But I am who I am, and I wouldn't want to be anything else, not really, if it meant flying all alone, without Someone holding me safely close to the ground." She pulled her gaze from the fleck of red that still danced against a prairie of white. The clock on the school wall read ten after noon. "We had better go in." Elizabeth brushed the sandwich crumbs off of her lap and stood. Macy followed, but her eyes hated to go back indoors. 

♡

it's been a week of years 
since i last saw you ♡
and even though i still cry sometimes 
it's good to know i'm not alone 

the music still makes me want to sing out
and remember you
your words still silently remind me 
speak kindly 
and i'll always see your smile 
even when my world is dark ♡

so just let me keep singing 
just let me keep walking on 
just help me keep praying 
when i'm feeling all alone 
and i know up there somewhere 
you're making all the angels laugh 
so every time i look into the sky 
i'll remember you 
even when i cry 

your grin still haunts me in a crowd 
every now and then
and i can't keep myself from wishing 
for things that might have been
i wish he had your heart, i wish he had your soul
i wish that you weren't gone 
even though i know someday 
i'll see that grin again 

so just let me keep wishing
just let me keep moving on 
and help me keep hoping 
because i feel so desperately alone 
now that you're gone
even though i know up there somewhere 
you're making the angels laugh 
every time i look into the sky 
i remember you 
and cry 

♡♡  ♡   ♡      ♡     ♡ ♡♡   ♡  ♡  ♡     ♡

sometimes i have to cry 
because i remember how you were
and you made me free 
free to sing
like no one else could ever do 
i miss you

♡  ♡       ♡              ♡

but if you're up there with the angels 
watching me right now 

know that i'm still singing 
know i'm still walking on 
know the hope in my heart is you and your smile
because when i'm feeling all alone 
i know you're up there somewhere 

and every time you see me cry  
don't you worry darling
even though i cry sometimes
it's because of you that i
remember how to smile ♡