I haven't written a poem in SO long, something I used to do often. This is my first one in years actually. But tonight, my thoughts just kept coming to me in poem form, and I had to take the opportunity to write it all down. so here it is:
Tear soaked pillows and broken dreams.
The bitter taste lingers on the edge of my lips.
Shards of a disappointed heart
Scattered at my tired feet.
Tired from chasing you.
How I wish that you inspired poems,
Poems of love.
You do.
Poems of a love broken.
A love tattered and torn,
Penetrated by holes of doubt and ill-fated fears.
Restore my faith
In you.
Mend the holes, sew the tatters.
Who have we become?
Star crossed lovers with no passion?
Such lovers are for stories, you might say.
But I think not.
Doomed to roam the world as a romantic,
I am
Doomed.
Shattered expectations are my baggage.
Lost loves that existed
Only in my heart.
Feeble dreams give way to even
feebler realities.
I bend down towards my tired feet,
Tired from chasing you.
I pick up the shards of
A disappointed heart.
They cut
deep into my skin.
I bleed.
It hurts
To piece a shattered heart
Together again.
But I do.
For you.
For me.
For us.
IT hurts because,
Because I know,
I know I will do this all again.
Again
Again
Again.
I lay my head down,
Down upon tear soaked pillows,
And I dream.
I dream of dreams
That will be, inevitably,
Broken.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Breaking Through
The past five months have been, in a sense, unbearable for me. And the past five days have brought perspective to all that I've found so unbearable.
This past weekend, Lindsay and Emily came to visit. Lindsay is from Minnesota, Emily is from Texas, and they were my next door neighbors when we studied abroad in New Zealand. It's true that my adventures and crazy times in NZ weren't spent with Lindsay and Emily (unless you count the time we snuck out of the window of our their house and ran as fast as we could across the lawn only to be caught like a deer in headlights by the automatic outdoor lights). Instead, my time with them was spent sitting, talking, and of course, eating. And I have always loved sharing this with them. And being with them, whether or not our times together were crazy, being with them takes me back to the best time in my life. In NZ i felt free, more free than I ever have. I felt peace, more peace than I ever have. Life was a never ending adventure. I did some of the most amazing things I've ever done...skydiving, swimming in a glacial lake surrounded by snow-capped mountains, hiking the gorgeous routeburn and milford sound treks. Life was easy. So carefree. We made dinner together, we watched movies, we skipped class for trips, we LIVED. And it was beautiful. What I wouldn't give to have that back. It makes my eyes well with tears just to think of it. I think NZ was the first time I lived in a way that was true to myself in every way. I grew up so much there, and I discovered who I really was, and who I wanted to be. I became ready for things I had never been ready for before. Life wasn't just something I went through, it was something I cherished. And I still feel like I took that time for granted, like I didn't realize it for all that it was at the time.
Tonight. another friend of mine, Lindsey (not to be confused with Lindsay) was in town. Lindsey was my best friend during my freshman year of college. We were inseparable, haha, just to think of it makes me smile. I hadn't seen Lindsey since her wedding 2.5 years ago. Before college, I had always had a really hard time talking about things, especially the way I felt. I think most people who know me now can say that I'm really open and honest. My friendship with Lindsey was what taught me to be that way. And we had what I thought was a beautiful conversation over dinner tonight. Because our conversation was real and honest and to me, that is beauty.
Being with these old friends and having real conversations with them, something I feel is lacking here (for the most part), really helped me bring perspective to a lot of things. And it was a relief. Something in me awoke from a long sleep. I remembered who I had been, and who I could still be. While Lindsey and i were talking tonight, I realized for the first time since I came here, that there is NOTHING I do for myself. All I do is schoolwork and go to my job. I don't hike, I don't paint, I don't read for pleasure (because who could be bothered with that after all they assign us), I don't work on learning Spanish, Italian, or Swahili anymore, I don't journal. All the things I used to love, I've let go of. And I no longer do anything I enjoy. Something else I've realized in the last five days is that I really need to get involved with the international exchange community again. Many people in my life know that this was a constant and life-changing passion for me. Something that brought meaning and joy to my life, something that brought me true friendship, and I've let it go.
For so long, I've felt like I've been buried on the beach. Under a mound of sand. And the only part of me which has been unburied, ever so slightly, is my head, struggling to find air. And I've been able to see the ocean coming closer and closer, preparing to consume and drown me with its force as I lie buried. And in the past few days, it seems that the ocean has receded, and that slowly, I'm breaking free of the sand. Piece by piece. My toes break through, my fingers break through. And soon, I hope, I will have the strength to free my whole body, to break free from the sand completely. I hope.
This past weekend, Lindsay and Emily came to visit. Lindsay is from Minnesota, Emily is from Texas, and they were my next door neighbors when we studied abroad in New Zealand. It's true that my adventures and crazy times in NZ weren't spent with Lindsay and Emily (unless you count the time we snuck out of the window of our their house and ran as fast as we could across the lawn only to be caught like a deer in headlights by the automatic outdoor lights). Instead, my time with them was spent sitting, talking, and of course, eating. And I have always loved sharing this with them. And being with them, whether or not our times together were crazy, being with them takes me back to the best time in my life. In NZ i felt free, more free than I ever have. I felt peace, more peace than I ever have. Life was a never ending adventure. I did some of the most amazing things I've ever done...skydiving, swimming in a glacial lake surrounded by snow-capped mountains, hiking the gorgeous routeburn and milford sound treks. Life was easy. So carefree. We made dinner together, we watched movies, we skipped class for trips, we LIVED. And it was beautiful. What I wouldn't give to have that back. It makes my eyes well with tears just to think of it. I think NZ was the first time I lived in a way that was true to myself in every way. I grew up so much there, and I discovered who I really was, and who I wanted to be. I became ready for things I had never been ready for before. Life wasn't just something I went through, it was something I cherished. And I still feel like I took that time for granted, like I didn't realize it for all that it was at the time.
Tonight. another friend of mine, Lindsey (not to be confused with Lindsay) was in town. Lindsey was my best friend during my freshman year of college. We were inseparable, haha, just to think of it makes me smile. I hadn't seen Lindsey since her wedding 2.5 years ago. Before college, I had always had a really hard time talking about things, especially the way I felt. I think most people who know me now can say that I'm really open and honest. My friendship with Lindsey was what taught me to be that way. And we had what I thought was a beautiful conversation over dinner tonight. Because our conversation was real and honest and to me, that is beauty.
Being with these old friends and having real conversations with them, something I feel is lacking here (for the most part), really helped me bring perspective to a lot of things. And it was a relief. Something in me awoke from a long sleep. I remembered who I had been, and who I could still be. While Lindsey and i were talking tonight, I realized for the first time since I came here, that there is NOTHING I do for myself. All I do is schoolwork and go to my job. I don't hike, I don't paint, I don't read for pleasure (because who could be bothered with that after all they assign us), I don't work on learning Spanish, Italian, or Swahili anymore, I don't journal. All the things I used to love, I've let go of. And I no longer do anything I enjoy. Something else I've realized in the last five days is that I really need to get involved with the international exchange community again. Many people in my life know that this was a constant and life-changing passion for me. Something that brought meaning and joy to my life, something that brought me true friendship, and I've let it go.
For so long, I've felt like I've been buried on the beach. Under a mound of sand. And the only part of me which has been unburied, ever so slightly, is my head, struggling to find air. And I've been able to see the ocean coming closer and closer, preparing to consume and drown me with its force as I lie buried. And in the past few days, it seems that the ocean has receded, and that slowly, I'm breaking free of the sand. Piece by piece. My toes break through, my fingers break through. And soon, I hope, I will have the strength to free my whole body, to break free from the sand completely. I hope.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Disconnected
A friend of mine asked me last week why I didn't post on my blog more often. And I answered that I only post when I have a lot of emotion to express, when everything comes exploding out of me because this is the only way I know how to release everything bottled inside of me. And the truth is, I have felt this overwhelming bottling of emotions constantly in the past month. It's never ceasing. Always there, tormenting me. And the nights that this emotion explodes out of me are the nights I hate myself the most.
The truth is, I feel disconnected. from everything. and i feel alone. i feel so alone. nothing feels right to me. i don't know if I'm in the right place, I don't know if a "right" place exists for me. I don't know if I'm doing the right thing, I don't know if the "right" thing exists for me. I don't know if I'm with the right person; I don't know if the "right" person exists for me. i feel so lost. i feel so confused. I spend most of my time feeling inadequate about school, friendships, my relationship, everything. I'm not smart enough to be here, there is nothing in this world I am good at, and there is no one in this world who should have to put up with me.
I don't know who I am anymore. I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I don't know what I want anymore. Nothing feels right. And I feel so alone. And I am SICK AND TIRED of crying myself to sleep every night.
The truth is, I feel disconnected. from everything. and i feel alone. i feel so alone. nothing feels right to me. i don't know if I'm in the right place, I don't know if a "right" place exists for me. I don't know if I'm doing the right thing, I don't know if the "right" thing exists for me. I don't know if I'm with the right person; I don't know if the "right" person exists for me. i feel so lost. i feel so confused. I spend most of my time feeling inadequate about school, friendships, my relationship, everything. I'm not smart enough to be here, there is nothing in this world I am good at, and there is no one in this world who should have to put up with me.
I don't know who I am anymore. I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I don't know what I want anymore. Nothing feels right. And I feel so alone. And I am SICK AND TIRED of crying myself to sleep every night.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Friday, January 15, 2010
Nigel Scicluna
Today is January 15. It would have been Nigel's birthday. I sat outside tonight, had some wine, smoked a clove, and talked with Nige. We lost him 1 year and 15 days ago. It still seems so surreal. I can't believe it. When we lost Nigel, I wrote a very long journal entry, and I want to include it here. Just to share all my deep thoughts and pain about him. For most of you it will mean nothing, for some of you it will mean a lot. A few of you have already seen this. But, I just need to put it out there. Nige, I will miss you and love you forever, and here is my piece of you that I want to share with the world......
Well, this year certainly started off with a bang. Sadly, it wasn’t the bang of a firework, or perhaps something grand and celebratory. It more resembled the bang of a gun shooting a bullet…a bullet that shot right through my heart and the hearts of SO many others. On New Years Day, 2009, Nigel Scicluna died. I was in complete shock when I learned the news. I stared at the computer screen, thinking this was the sickest joke ever played. I was angry that someone could be so heartless, wished it was part of some prank done during a drunken New Year’s stupor. And as I started at the screen, I realized this was no joke, this was real. Tears POURED out of my eyes, my heart shattered into a million pieces, and I lost my breath. The same is happening now as I write this. How?? Why?? It made NO sense! It’s so incredibly unfair. He was one of those people I surely thought would live forever, conquering the whole world and changing lives along the way. I could NOT believe someone so incredible had been taken away. That day was so hard. I thought of all the people world-wide who were sharing in my heartbreak. And my heart only broke more to think of Nigel’s closest friends, of his family and the people who had spent a lifetime with him. I thought of all the friends and family who were and are undoubtedly devastated. I called Zita right away, sobbing. She couldn’t believe it, she denied it. She just said, “no, no, no” over and over again. I wanted to be with everyone SO badly…Zita, Ashley, Josh, Hayden, Fraser, Nick, Chip. I longed to hug each of them, to see their precious faces, and tell them I loved them. I knew I needed to tell Chip what had happened. I called his mom and told her the news. She found him, told him, and he called me. Fraser also called, which meant a lot to me. I was able to talk to Hayden online as well. He was with Josh. Needless to say, I spent the entire day in tears, replaying every moment with Nigel over and over again in my mind. The next few days were really no different. I was unable to think of anything else and the tears just flowed. Monday, in honor of Magic Mondays with Nigel, I lit a candle, made some tea, and laid on my floor just talking out loud to Nigel as though he were there beside me. I’ve done that a lot it seems, just talking out loud to him. I feel a desperate need to record everything I feel about him dying, to express what I thought of him, to write down every memory I have so that I may never lose them. So I guess I kind of just want to write Nigel a letter here:
Dearest Nige,
I’ve never known a “wee man” as precious as you. You were a gem, a treasure. The first time I met you, Chip had introduced us at the first International gathering of the semester. You said, “I’ve heard about you. Hear you’re the nicest person in the world. Let’s hang out.” And we did. And I’m so thankful for every moment and every memory. I remember the first time we all went downtown to Overtime and danced. There you were, the smallest 26 year old man I knew, dancing in the middle of a crowd of big, black guys. You had a black eye. I was so excited to know you were coming to Miami with us, I knew you would make the trip better. I remember you climbing everything and we were all so amazed at your strength and how effortlessly you lifted yourself to high heights everywhere we went. You were like a little monkey. You were constantly chasing after Chip, taking care of him and looking out for him which you could do better than anyone else. I’m not sure you could ever have known just how much you mean to him. I remember the first time I saw your nipple piercing and I laughed so hard. I remember sitting next to you in the Cuban restaurant. I remember our last night in Miami. You and I wanted to be sure we could get Chip up in the morning to take you to the airport, so I slept in Chip’s bed in between the two of you. You cuddled with me all night and I remember thinking that I just felt really safe with you. I remember coming back from Miami and telling Zita that I thought I had developed some feelings for you, but I would never have dared tell anyone else in fears that our friendship might change. She and I talked about you quite often, and I told her I thought I could fall for you if I let myself, but I wouldn’t…not to mention I felt weird about the fact that you were so much smaller than me. HaHa. Zita sent me an email yesterday sharing some of her memories of you, and she ended by saying “Oh Lena, I know you probably would have married him if he hadn’t been three heads shorter than you.” Haha. Ooh, Nige! But that really was just a small piece of it all. You truly were a great friend and an amazing person. When Chip returned from Miami, you INSISTED on keeping me company for the drive to the Atlanta airport. On the way down, you wanted to play 20 questions so we could get to know each other better. 20 quickly turned into about 200. We talked about EVERYthing and I feel like that’s when I REALLY got to know you. We talked about traveling, friends, love, relationships, attachments on the road/staying in touch with people we’ve met, music; SO many different things. I really wish I could remember EVERY detail of that conversation. Magic Mondays were some of my favorite days, and sometimes my week would be spent waiting for the next Monday. You would come over in the morning, Zita and I would make you coffee and the three of us would sit on the step, or in the living room, or even lay on the hard floor (you preferred to sleep on floors rather than beds), and the three of us would talk about life and dream of things we wanted to do and places we wanted to go and see. One Monday, you hopped up our stairs on one foot. Your other foot was bruised and swollen. You just hopped all around the apartment with a big smile on your face. When you were leaving, I offered to help you, but you refused to let me. I remember going to my window and watching you hop up the stairs to the street. I just smiled. Only you would do that with joy in each hop. Never a complaint. I remember when you cooked dinner for me, Zita, and Min. You made a true Aussy meal…minced meat pie and pumpkin soup. It was so good and I was so impressed. Afterwards, the four of us laid in your bed, smiling and laughing and taking pictures. I also remember the night you cooked dinner for Jess and I. I could see you meant a lot to her. I remember when you, Zita, and I decided to do our trip to Asia… “ASIA, 2009!!,” we would say. You came over one night and we all got our little notepads and studied the map on the wall, choosing the places we would go, in what order we wanted to go to those places based on weather, and the dates we would likely leave and return. I remember we said “we’re doers, not talkers, and we WILL do ASIA, 2009!” You were so excited to give me my birthday present. “I think it’s really going to be great, you’ll see,” you said. It was a huge travel book of China because I was meant to choose the places we would go during the China portion of our Asian tour. Joel had taken you to Anderson to buy the book and you were just smiling ear to ear. I remember the night at TTT’s when we tried making angry/sexy faces for my camera. I think we both failed miserably. One night we went out to dinner with Joel and Stephanie. You and I both ordered a side of blue cheese to put on our hamburgers. Afterward, we played pool. I apologized SO many times for being so bad, and you always said the same thing, “Don’t be silly kiddo, we’re just having fun.” I loved the little things you said like “kiddo”, “happy Monday”, “smiles all around”, “life is good.” You were so positive and you found the smallest, simplest things to be the best pleasures in life. I remember you telling me you hated that you couldn’t find Macadamia nuts here. So I bought you some. I had completely forgotten to give them to you and when you were back in Oz I emailed you to tell you what an idiot I was and that I still had them. You said “thanks for the thought. It means more than the nuts. That sounds funny eh.” I remember when you pointed to the clouds one day and said “it’s going to rain tomorrow.” I always think of that when I see clouds like that. Our last night downtown you were so playful with everyone. I remember when Chip’s parents came to Clemson, and Beth was expressing her clear disappointment at my nose ring. You just stood beside me and laughed. I remember the night of Shrimp Fest when you booty danced with Rachel’s mom. I thought I would DIE. Haha. I remember the night some of us girls were hanging out for our last night together. You were supposed to have left the day before, but you came in that night and it was the BEST surprise. You refused to say goodbye. You didn’t believe in them. Only “see you soon” because you always knew you would see that person again, that there was no goodbye…. I remember when you called me on your birthday last year. It was such a great surprise and a joy to hear your voice.
I know that you loved to be active. You loved to work out and do things outside. You loved snowboarding, running, hiking, camping…you were even a speed-walking champ in Oz! I will NEVER forget the time you demonstrated your speed-walking and your wee body moved SO fast and your hips swung back and forth with such speeed, haha. You loved children, and I know you were great with them. I hate that you will never be the Godfather of Ant’s baby who was born today. You would have made one hell of a teacher…and father. You avoided getting too attached to people when traveling. It was just easier that way, you said. I know you were with Karen for 6years, and you guys had weathered a lot together. You, of course, loved to travel and had already done so much! We both agreed that we’d like to go to Africa or India next. Now I AM going to Africa. I had recently sent you a message to tell you all about my trip and that I would LOVE for you to visit me there. You always took a week or two to answer my mails, so I knew you would have soon enough. But it broke my heart to find out today that you were leaving for Africa soon. You had told me you wouldn’t go there unless you knew you could stay for 3 months. That means you would have been there when I was. And I know we both would have undoubtedly worked it out to meet up there. It made me cry to know that is now not a possibility. I know you didn’t have a passion for food like zita and I and we thought you were crazy! We couldn’t believe you didn’t get food cravings and that you didn’t like sweet things. Haha, “I have to stay in shape,” you had told me. “Its not easy staying thin when you’re this short.” Haha! But you did love macadamia nuts. And you loved coffee. When you told me you only got to drink coffee at our place, I bought you a coffee maker for your apartment. I know you loved your footy, and you and Ash were always supporting your Cats. You loved hammocks, and hard floors. You loved your sweater from south America. I remember when we discovered that we both shared a teenage love for Mxpx. Haha. There’s so much more I wish I could remember.
Nigel, you were so special. You were so ALIVE. You had so much energy and you had done so much. You had already seen so much of the world, met so many people, and had so many good experiences. You always said we only got one life so we better make the most of it. And you really did. You lived each day to the fullest. I loved your spontaneity, your “in the moment” lifestyle. You never worried about anything. You always said everything would be ok, it would all work out, there’s no time for worry. You loved people. You had such a huge heart, and you always put others before yourself. You knew how to make people feel really unique and cared about. You smiled more than anyone I’ve ever known. You worked hard at everything you did, always putting forth everything you had. You NEVER stepped back from a challenge; in fact, you went in search of them. Nigel, it’s so hard to lose someone like you, SO hard. It just doesn’t make sense. I don’t think I ever told you, but I once had a very strong faith, a very solid relationship with God. The past couple of years had really brought forth a lot of doubts and questions. My faith had weakened tremendously, pretty much to the point of non-existence. There was so much talk within the “Christian world” of how people become so loving and giving and special when they know the Lord. That God was the one living through such people because of their faith and their daily decision to live for God rather than themselves. There was all this talk of people who didn’t know God going to hell. That talk started to make me angry. I had met too many people in my travels who made it impossible for me to accept those things. And one of the most amazing people I met who didn’t know God was you. You told me you didn’t believe in religion. And yet you were the GREATEST, most life-changing person I had known. You don’t know it, but you somehow made my doubts in God even bigger. Really made me question EVERYthing because you were just so special. When we lost you, I was ANGRY at God. Once when I was alone in my car, I just screamed at him. I don’t even know if I believe there was a God hearing my screams. I have no idea. Either way, I just felt this rage. It just seems like such an injustice has been done. But at the same time, it’s so hard for me to believe there’s nothing that comes after this life. I CANT think that you’re just gone and that’s it. I HAVE to believe that you’re still adventuring out there. I know you wouldn’t want us to mourn you, I know you want us to be happy. But it’s so hard. It’s hard to have “smiles all around” when I’m so brokenhearted. I cant help but cry. I cant help but miss you. I can only find solace in knowing that you lived a really amazing life and you truly made the most of every moment. You touched SO many people. Maybe the only way for all of us to REALLY live the way you taught us to was to lose you. To realize just how necessary it is to be free, to make the most of everything, to love life, and to live it with reckless passion. It’s so hard for me to think of the memories we’ll never make. There will be no ASIA 2009! Zita and I would still REALLY like to go sometime, in your honor, but I KNOW something will be missing. What I found most exciting about the idea of that trip was YOU, and how amazing it would be because of your spirit, your adventure, your laughter. NO ONE could EVER replace the energy and life you would have been. It breaks my heart to know I will never meet up with you in Oz. I sometimes think about the big things that will happen in my life…my wedding, having children. It sometimes makes me sad because all of my friends are scattered all over the world and I think the almost none of them will be able to be a part of these things. I would REALLY like to think you would have been one of the few who would be willing to make the journey for my wedding. I had hoped your love for travel would bring you. I would have LOVED for my kids to one day know you. To send them off on some outdoor excursion with you. They would have learned so much, felt so loved. I KNOW that. There are so many things in life I now want to do for YOU. I want to see ALL the things you wanted to see. I want to go to ALL those places. I really hope I can live a better life for you, a life FILLED with endless adventure. I’ll take your philosophy for now. I refuse to say goodbye. I can’t. It’s just not possible. So, Nige, I guess I’ll see you later… I LOVE YOU.
Well, this year certainly started off with a bang. Sadly, it wasn’t the bang of a firework, or perhaps something grand and celebratory. It more resembled the bang of a gun shooting a bullet…a bullet that shot right through my heart and the hearts of SO many others. On New Years Day, 2009, Nigel Scicluna died. I was in complete shock when I learned the news. I stared at the computer screen, thinking this was the sickest joke ever played. I was angry that someone could be so heartless, wished it was part of some prank done during a drunken New Year’s stupor. And as I started at the screen, I realized this was no joke, this was real. Tears POURED out of my eyes, my heart shattered into a million pieces, and I lost my breath. The same is happening now as I write this. How?? Why?? It made NO sense! It’s so incredibly unfair. He was one of those people I surely thought would live forever, conquering the whole world and changing lives along the way. I could NOT believe someone so incredible had been taken away. That day was so hard. I thought of all the people world-wide who were sharing in my heartbreak. And my heart only broke more to think of Nigel’s closest friends, of his family and the people who had spent a lifetime with him. I thought of all the friends and family who were and are undoubtedly devastated. I called Zita right away, sobbing. She couldn’t believe it, she denied it. She just said, “no, no, no” over and over again. I wanted to be with everyone SO badly…Zita, Ashley, Josh, Hayden, Fraser, Nick, Chip. I longed to hug each of them, to see their precious faces, and tell them I loved them. I knew I needed to tell Chip what had happened. I called his mom and told her the news. She found him, told him, and he called me. Fraser also called, which meant a lot to me. I was able to talk to Hayden online as well. He was with Josh. Needless to say, I spent the entire day in tears, replaying every moment with Nigel over and over again in my mind. The next few days were really no different. I was unable to think of anything else and the tears just flowed. Monday, in honor of Magic Mondays with Nigel, I lit a candle, made some tea, and laid on my floor just talking out loud to Nigel as though he were there beside me. I’ve done that a lot it seems, just talking out loud to him. I feel a desperate need to record everything I feel about him dying, to express what I thought of him, to write down every memory I have so that I may never lose them. So I guess I kind of just want to write Nigel a letter here:
Dearest Nige,
I’ve never known a “wee man” as precious as you. You were a gem, a treasure. The first time I met you, Chip had introduced us at the first International gathering of the semester. You said, “I’ve heard about you. Hear you’re the nicest person in the world. Let’s hang out.” And we did. And I’m so thankful for every moment and every memory. I remember the first time we all went downtown to Overtime and danced. There you were, the smallest 26 year old man I knew, dancing in the middle of a crowd of big, black guys. You had a black eye. I was so excited to know you were coming to Miami with us, I knew you would make the trip better. I remember you climbing everything and we were all so amazed at your strength and how effortlessly you lifted yourself to high heights everywhere we went. You were like a little monkey. You were constantly chasing after Chip, taking care of him and looking out for him which you could do better than anyone else. I’m not sure you could ever have known just how much you mean to him. I remember the first time I saw your nipple piercing and I laughed so hard. I remember sitting next to you in the Cuban restaurant. I remember our last night in Miami. You and I wanted to be sure we could get Chip up in the morning to take you to the airport, so I slept in Chip’s bed in between the two of you. You cuddled with me all night and I remember thinking that I just felt really safe with you. I remember coming back from Miami and telling Zita that I thought I had developed some feelings for you, but I would never have dared tell anyone else in fears that our friendship might change. She and I talked about you quite often, and I told her I thought I could fall for you if I let myself, but I wouldn’t…not to mention I felt weird about the fact that you were so much smaller than me. HaHa. Zita sent me an email yesterday sharing some of her memories of you, and she ended by saying “Oh Lena, I know you probably would have married him if he hadn’t been three heads shorter than you.” Haha. Ooh, Nige! But that really was just a small piece of it all. You truly were a great friend and an amazing person. When Chip returned from Miami, you INSISTED on keeping me company for the drive to the Atlanta airport. On the way down, you wanted to play 20 questions so we could get to know each other better. 20 quickly turned into about 200. We talked about EVERYthing and I feel like that’s when I REALLY got to know you. We talked about traveling, friends, love, relationships, attachments on the road/staying in touch with people we’ve met, music; SO many different things. I really wish I could remember EVERY detail of that conversation. Magic Mondays were some of my favorite days, and sometimes my week would be spent waiting for the next Monday. You would come over in the morning, Zita and I would make you coffee and the three of us would sit on the step, or in the living room, or even lay on the hard floor (you preferred to sleep on floors rather than beds), and the three of us would talk about life and dream of things we wanted to do and places we wanted to go and see. One Monday, you hopped up our stairs on one foot. Your other foot was bruised and swollen. You just hopped all around the apartment with a big smile on your face. When you were leaving, I offered to help you, but you refused to let me. I remember going to my window and watching you hop up the stairs to the street. I just smiled. Only you would do that with joy in each hop. Never a complaint. I remember when you cooked dinner for me, Zita, and Min. You made a true Aussy meal…minced meat pie and pumpkin soup. It was so good and I was so impressed. Afterwards, the four of us laid in your bed, smiling and laughing and taking pictures. I also remember the night you cooked dinner for Jess and I. I could see you meant a lot to her. I remember when you, Zita, and I decided to do our trip to Asia… “ASIA, 2009!!,” we would say. You came over one night and we all got our little notepads and studied the map on the wall, choosing the places we would go, in what order we wanted to go to those places based on weather, and the dates we would likely leave and return. I remember we said “we’re doers, not talkers, and we WILL do ASIA, 2009!” You were so excited to give me my birthday present. “I think it’s really going to be great, you’ll see,” you said. It was a huge travel book of China because I was meant to choose the places we would go during the China portion of our Asian tour. Joel had taken you to Anderson to buy the book and you were just smiling ear to ear. I remember the night at TTT’s when we tried making angry/sexy faces for my camera. I think we both failed miserably. One night we went out to dinner with Joel and Stephanie. You and I both ordered a side of blue cheese to put on our hamburgers. Afterward, we played pool. I apologized SO many times for being so bad, and you always said the same thing, “Don’t be silly kiddo, we’re just having fun.” I loved the little things you said like “kiddo”, “happy Monday”, “smiles all around”, “life is good.” You were so positive and you found the smallest, simplest things to be the best pleasures in life. I remember you telling me you hated that you couldn’t find Macadamia nuts here. So I bought you some. I had completely forgotten to give them to you and when you were back in Oz I emailed you to tell you what an idiot I was and that I still had them. You said “thanks for the thought. It means more than the nuts. That sounds funny eh.” I remember when you pointed to the clouds one day and said “it’s going to rain tomorrow.” I always think of that when I see clouds like that. Our last night downtown you were so playful with everyone. I remember when Chip’s parents came to Clemson, and Beth was expressing her clear disappointment at my nose ring. You just stood beside me and laughed. I remember the night of Shrimp Fest when you booty danced with Rachel’s mom. I thought I would DIE. Haha. I remember the night some of us girls were hanging out for our last night together. You were supposed to have left the day before, but you came in that night and it was the BEST surprise. You refused to say goodbye. You didn’t believe in them. Only “see you soon” because you always knew you would see that person again, that there was no goodbye…. I remember when you called me on your birthday last year. It was such a great surprise and a joy to hear your voice.
I know that you loved to be active. You loved to work out and do things outside. You loved snowboarding, running, hiking, camping…you were even a speed-walking champ in Oz! I will NEVER forget the time you demonstrated your speed-walking and your wee body moved SO fast and your hips swung back and forth with such speeed, haha. You loved children, and I know you were great with them. I hate that you will never be the Godfather of Ant’s baby who was born today. You would have made one hell of a teacher…and father. You avoided getting too attached to people when traveling. It was just easier that way, you said. I know you were with Karen for 6years, and you guys had weathered a lot together. You, of course, loved to travel and had already done so much! We both agreed that we’d like to go to Africa or India next. Now I AM going to Africa. I had recently sent you a message to tell you all about my trip and that I would LOVE for you to visit me there. You always took a week or two to answer my mails, so I knew you would have soon enough. But it broke my heart to find out today that you were leaving for Africa soon. You had told me you wouldn’t go there unless you knew you could stay for 3 months. That means you would have been there when I was. And I know we both would have undoubtedly worked it out to meet up there. It made me cry to know that is now not a possibility. I know you didn’t have a passion for food like zita and I and we thought you were crazy! We couldn’t believe you didn’t get food cravings and that you didn’t like sweet things. Haha, “I have to stay in shape,” you had told me. “Its not easy staying thin when you’re this short.” Haha! But you did love macadamia nuts. And you loved coffee. When you told me you only got to drink coffee at our place, I bought you a coffee maker for your apartment. I know you loved your footy, and you and Ash were always supporting your Cats. You loved hammocks, and hard floors. You loved your sweater from south America. I remember when we discovered that we both shared a teenage love for Mxpx. Haha. There’s so much more I wish I could remember.
Nigel, you were so special. You were so ALIVE. You had so much energy and you had done so much. You had already seen so much of the world, met so many people, and had so many good experiences. You always said we only got one life so we better make the most of it. And you really did. You lived each day to the fullest. I loved your spontaneity, your “in the moment” lifestyle. You never worried about anything. You always said everything would be ok, it would all work out, there’s no time for worry. You loved people. You had such a huge heart, and you always put others before yourself. You knew how to make people feel really unique and cared about. You smiled more than anyone I’ve ever known. You worked hard at everything you did, always putting forth everything you had. You NEVER stepped back from a challenge; in fact, you went in search of them. Nigel, it’s so hard to lose someone like you, SO hard. It just doesn’t make sense. I don’t think I ever told you, but I once had a very strong faith, a very solid relationship with God. The past couple of years had really brought forth a lot of doubts and questions. My faith had weakened tremendously, pretty much to the point of non-existence. There was so much talk within the “Christian world” of how people become so loving and giving and special when they know the Lord. That God was the one living through such people because of their faith and their daily decision to live for God rather than themselves. There was all this talk of people who didn’t know God going to hell. That talk started to make me angry. I had met too many people in my travels who made it impossible for me to accept those things. And one of the most amazing people I met who didn’t know God was you. You told me you didn’t believe in religion. And yet you were the GREATEST, most life-changing person I had known. You don’t know it, but you somehow made my doubts in God even bigger. Really made me question EVERYthing because you were just so special. When we lost you, I was ANGRY at God. Once when I was alone in my car, I just screamed at him. I don’t even know if I believe there was a God hearing my screams. I have no idea. Either way, I just felt this rage. It just seems like such an injustice has been done. But at the same time, it’s so hard for me to believe there’s nothing that comes after this life. I CANT think that you’re just gone and that’s it. I HAVE to believe that you’re still adventuring out there. I know you wouldn’t want us to mourn you, I know you want us to be happy. But it’s so hard. It’s hard to have “smiles all around” when I’m so brokenhearted. I cant help but cry. I cant help but miss you. I can only find solace in knowing that you lived a really amazing life and you truly made the most of every moment. You touched SO many people. Maybe the only way for all of us to REALLY live the way you taught us to was to lose you. To realize just how necessary it is to be free, to make the most of everything, to love life, and to live it with reckless passion. It’s so hard for me to think of the memories we’ll never make. There will be no ASIA 2009! Zita and I would still REALLY like to go sometime, in your honor, but I KNOW something will be missing. What I found most exciting about the idea of that trip was YOU, and how amazing it would be because of your spirit, your adventure, your laughter. NO ONE could EVER replace the energy and life you would have been. It breaks my heart to know I will never meet up with you in Oz. I sometimes think about the big things that will happen in my life…my wedding, having children. It sometimes makes me sad because all of my friends are scattered all over the world and I think the almost none of them will be able to be a part of these things. I would REALLY like to think you would have been one of the few who would be willing to make the journey for my wedding. I had hoped your love for travel would bring you. I would have LOVED for my kids to one day know you. To send them off on some outdoor excursion with you. They would have learned so much, felt so loved. I KNOW that. There are so many things in life I now want to do for YOU. I want to see ALL the things you wanted to see. I want to go to ALL those places. I really hope I can live a better life for you, a life FILLED with endless adventure. I’ll take your philosophy for now. I refuse to say goodbye. I can’t. It’s just not possible. So, Nige, I guess I’ll see you later… I LOVE YOU.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Will this always be inevitable for me?
When I came to Boulder (and I suppose also in gradual steps prior to that) I stopped being who I am. Or who I had been. Because in a way I've become someone else. Or have I, actually? I'm not sure I CAN change who I am, even though I have certainly tried. But when I came here, I was determined to be different. I didn't want to be the Lena I had always been. The Lena who loved people unconditionally, who gave everything I could for someone else, who sacrificed on behalf of other people's happiness. I no longer wanted to be the Lena who was taken advantage of, who people came to expect things from, who suffered heartbreak from unrequited love (and I don't speak of romantic love here). I wanted to be free from this. It's caused me so much pain in the past. So many feelings of worthlessness, uselessness, anger, bitter, aching, longing, disappointment, etc. I was tired. My body was tired. My head was tired. My heart was tired. My soul was tired. So I intentionally never did the nice things I normally did for people. I broke my streak today. I bought Jakob some clothes hangers he had forgotten to buy himself. Little does Jakob know that normally, he could expect "gifts" like that from me probably 3 times a week. But he would never know to expect that, because I've never done anything for my roommates. I've never gone out of my way for them.Or for any of my friends here. I thought I was sparing myself of hurt. I thought if I never did those things for people here, they wouldn't come to expect it from me as everyone else has in all the other places I've been. I thought that no one would use me because no one would know that it's so easy to do. The longer I lived here, the more I retreated myself from the people around me, the more I isolated myself. And if any of you really know me, you know that I fall in love with the people around me incredibly easily. And I was. I was falling in love with everyone around me. And the more I loved them, the more I knew it would be impossible for me not to live my life devoted to making them happy. Because that's what I do. When I love people, I want to give them everything. People like to throw around the well-known teaching of Jesus: "There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends." I, of course, don't believe that this sentence means that greatest love is to literally lay down your life, to literally die for someone. I believe it means to lay down your life in the sense that you lay down your selfishness, your own desires, your conceit, your pride. I believe it means to LIVE as though the life of your friend was more important than your own. That IS what love is to me. And it always has been. To lay my life down for others. And I did that for a long time.
Today, I sat outside, alone on my porch, and I thought. I thought about how I tried to protect myself and my heart from all the people who could potentially take advantage of me, who could potentially hurt me. And I realized that I had hurt myself. Because this isn't me. Withholding love is not me. I have betrayed myself. I miss being who I used to be. I miss loving and giving and laying down my life. I think that's why I bought Jakob the hangers. I needed a brief moment and a very small act to remind me who I was, to remind me what's really important to me. I don't want to be the person I've become. And I think I've come super close to digging a hole of depression for myself because of it. I decided I wanted to be more like the person I used to be.
And then, just a few hours later, I was reminded again of why I had wanted to stop being that person. I was reminded of the heartbreak that it always leads me to. Because there was one person to whom my love continued to be steadfast and giving. I was willing to lay down my life in every sense of the word. But again, I feel like the reality of that situation is that this unquenchable, self-sacrificial love is also dire love. Again, I feel it is one-sided. Sometimes I wonder if anyone is even capable of loving me the way I love them. I wonder if ANYone on this earth could have "lay down life" love for me. I wonder if this is my inevitable fate. I wonder if I am somehow, and for some reason unknown to me, meant to be in this situation. I'm so tired. Even though I want to be the person I once was, I'm too scared. I'm scared to live a life of this repeat. I want to know that SOMEONE finds me worthy of loving, of fighting for, of sacrificing for. I don't want this "unrequited love" to be inevitable for me.
Today, I sat outside, alone on my porch, and I thought. I thought about how I tried to protect myself and my heart from all the people who could potentially take advantage of me, who could potentially hurt me. And I realized that I had hurt myself. Because this isn't me. Withholding love is not me. I have betrayed myself. I miss being who I used to be. I miss loving and giving and laying down my life. I think that's why I bought Jakob the hangers. I needed a brief moment and a very small act to remind me who I was, to remind me what's really important to me. I don't want to be the person I've become. And I think I've come super close to digging a hole of depression for myself because of it. I decided I wanted to be more like the person I used to be.
And then, just a few hours later, I was reminded again of why I had wanted to stop being that person. I was reminded of the heartbreak that it always leads me to. Because there was one person to whom my love continued to be steadfast and giving. I was willing to lay down my life in every sense of the word. But again, I feel like the reality of that situation is that this unquenchable, self-sacrificial love is also dire love. Again, I feel it is one-sided. Sometimes I wonder if anyone is even capable of loving me the way I love them. I wonder if ANYone on this earth could have "lay down life" love for me. I wonder if this is my inevitable fate. I wonder if I am somehow, and for some reason unknown to me, meant to be in this situation. I'm so tired. Even though I want to be the person I once was, I'm too scared. I'm scared to live a life of this repeat. I want to know that SOMEONE finds me worthy of loving, of fighting for, of sacrificing for. I don't want this "unrequited love" to be inevitable for me.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Losing pieces
I feel like i have no way to express myself. i want to speak without speaking. i feel like i've been going through all these spurts of emotion. there's been an ebb and flow of feeling. it floods me, it recedes, it returns. and i am left to brood over it. lost in the confusion of my dichotomous thoughts. i struggle to make sense of everything, and...i just can't. my heart flutters, beats faster, then feels like it's slowly cracking into a million pieces. and then, within five minutes, it's whole again. somehow i feel like the only way to mend the pieces, to TRULY mend them, to seamlessly glue them back together in such a way that they cannot again easily separate, is to have my heart break completely. for the pieces to shatter as if by an explosion, to feel the sharp and bitter shards of my no longer beating heart sink down to the soles of my feet. and then, to have the smithereens removed from me, held in the hand of something greater, where they can be mended in a way that i could never achieve myself. a restoration. whole, complete, fulfilling. and then to have my rectified heart placed within me once more, and for it to beat with the life and vibrancy it once knew.
i used to paint. i used to write poetry. that was when i had inspiration. but something has died inside of me. and the piece i lost, ran from me. ran far away. or did i push it away. yes, that's what happened. i pushed it away. as though it stood before me on the edge of an abyss above an open, endless sea. and when my questions became too much for me, i pushed it. into the water. but it hasn't died. it struggles for air. flails its arms in the water. reaches for me. cries out for me. drops its tears into the salty waves, like the tears that fell from my eyes into the sink as i brushed my teeth, or the tears that stain my pillow late at night when i can't sleep. and this piece of me, sometimes i miss it, sometimes i see it swallowing the water, but fighting nonetheless. so i try to save it. i reach into the fearful waters, and i grab a hold if it. i start to pull, to try to save the piece of me that i abandoned, but when i look into its eyes, and realize the inconceivable power that stares back at me, i freeze, i panic. i become overwhelmed yet again with all the questions these deep eyes present. and so i let it go. i wrench its desperate hand from my own, and i watch it struggle to breathe. and i walk away. dont look back. maybe for a day, a month, 3 months. but i always feel it. reaching for me. i hear it crying out to me. and i go back to the water's edge again. now i, not only my emotions, have become an ebb and flow. to the water. away from it. back to the water. sometimes i run from the water's edge. i run and run and run until i can't breathe anymore. and sometimes, i tell myself that i MUST walk away. i force myself to. and yet, i dont know why. i turn back, again and again. look at the piece of myself which longs for me. and i long for it. yet i continue to walk away. and the funny thing is, i never really want to. i just do it.
that piece of me that i pushed away so long ago, it was once the piece that completed me. made me whole. i remember what life was like then. everything was beautiful, everything was inspirational, meaningful. that's why i painted. that's why i wrote poetry. because i could literally feel every ray of sun soak into my skin. every breeze that passed by me was like a breath of life. every leaf, in all its intricacy, waved to me. every person was precious and significant in such a way that i couldn't help but give my life, my heart, away to everyone i knew. these were the days when i knew what it felt like to be alive. and now, part of me is dead. but yet it's not. it still struggles for life in the water, just waiting on me to reach in, to put aside my fears, to pull it out, and allow it to become one with me again. but i'm too afraid. i'm too damn scared. and why? would i rather be dead? no, i wouldn't. but i need help. i can't do it by myself. when i walked away from that piece of me the first time, so many people who claimed to love me walked away from me. and suddenly, i wondered what i had ever meant to them. had my value as a friend, as a human being, rested solely in this piece of myself? and when i walked away, so did they? is that all i was to them? a belief? a feeling? a hope? but not a person? a sister, so to speak? were we not "family?"
i struggle. im confused. part of me is gone. i feel dead. but the truth is, im alive. im still here. and im still fighting. i bring myself to the water's edge more and more often. im still fighting. im still here. im still alive. that is truth.
i used to paint. i used to write poetry. that was when i had inspiration. but something has died inside of me. and the piece i lost, ran from me. ran far away. or did i push it away. yes, that's what happened. i pushed it away. as though it stood before me on the edge of an abyss above an open, endless sea. and when my questions became too much for me, i pushed it. into the water. but it hasn't died. it struggles for air. flails its arms in the water. reaches for me. cries out for me. drops its tears into the salty waves, like the tears that fell from my eyes into the sink as i brushed my teeth, or the tears that stain my pillow late at night when i can't sleep. and this piece of me, sometimes i miss it, sometimes i see it swallowing the water, but fighting nonetheless. so i try to save it. i reach into the fearful waters, and i grab a hold if it. i start to pull, to try to save the piece of me that i abandoned, but when i look into its eyes, and realize the inconceivable power that stares back at me, i freeze, i panic. i become overwhelmed yet again with all the questions these deep eyes present. and so i let it go. i wrench its desperate hand from my own, and i watch it struggle to breathe. and i walk away. dont look back. maybe for a day, a month, 3 months. but i always feel it. reaching for me. i hear it crying out to me. and i go back to the water's edge again. now i, not only my emotions, have become an ebb and flow. to the water. away from it. back to the water. sometimes i run from the water's edge. i run and run and run until i can't breathe anymore. and sometimes, i tell myself that i MUST walk away. i force myself to. and yet, i dont know why. i turn back, again and again. look at the piece of myself which longs for me. and i long for it. yet i continue to walk away. and the funny thing is, i never really want to. i just do it.
that piece of me that i pushed away so long ago, it was once the piece that completed me. made me whole. i remember what life was like then. everything was beautiful, everything was inspirational, meaningful. that's why i painted. that's why i wrote poetry. because i could literally feel every ray of sun soak into my skin. every breeze that passed by me was like a breath of life. every leaf, in all its intricacy, waved to me. every person was precious and significant in such a way that i couldn't help but give my life, my heart, away to everyone i knew. these were the days when i knew what it felt like to be alive. and now, part of me is dead. but yet it's not. it still struggles for life in the water, just waiting on me to reach in, to put aside my fears, to pull it out, and allow it to become one with me again. but i'm too afraid. i'm too damn scared. and why? would i rather be dead? no, i wouldn't. but i need help. i can't do it by myself. when i walked away from that piece of me the first time, so many people who claimed to love me walked away from me. and suddenly, i wondered what i had ever meant to them. had my value as a friend, as a human being, rested solely in this piece of myself? and when i walked away, so did they? is that all i was to them? a belief? a feeling? a hope? but not a person? a sister, so to speak? were we not "family?"
i struggle. im confused. part of me is gone. i feel dead. but the truth is, im alive. im still here. and im still fighting. i bring myself to the water's edge more and more often. im still fighting. im still here. im still alive. that is truth.
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