Come down now, They'll say

I'm sitting here at the park I used to escape to often when we used to live in the modest yellow house on Initial street. The sun is low in the sky and the soft breeze puts goose bumps on my bare legs. I don't know why I came here. Out of all the parks in this town, but my blinker turned left and I ended up here. And now I'm sitting here chain smoking and listening to the saddest music I can conjure on my Ipod. Sulking. Thinking. Stalling.

In a few short days (five to be exact) I'll be sitting in my new apartment. Alone. Defeated. New. I don't know how ill feel then, and frankly I don't really know how I feel now. I'm so confused about it all, how I ended up here, how we ended up here. On December 31^st I made a declaration. The year of change. But I had no idea exactly how true that was going to be. We're halfway through 2010 and my life has flipped a 180 and new meets me everyday. When I announced that in our living room in the last few hours of December I have to admit, it was a bit of a threat. A warning. I thought I was warning him but unbeknownst to me, I was actually warning myself. Brace yourself Bonnie- this is going to be a rough ride.

But right now I don't want to think of the present. Of how I'm alone, lonely and lost. How I've been homeless for two months. How I've experienced new things and have had some of the best times of my life so far as of recent. No, right now all I can think about is the years past. Of how the music that comes across the screen of my Ipod brings such vivid memories flowing over me- into me. And suddenly I'm not in my last weeks of being twenty-one. I'm not sitting here with the scent of tobacco draped over me- a scent I loathe. I'm not fifteen pounds lighter, years wiser, and skin thicker.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

We're squeezed together in the darkness. On that tiny daybed we used to live on. Whispering words of admiration in each others wet ears. Fingertips tracing, lips tasting, love swelling. Peace in our souls, excitement on our tongues. Your hair so shaggy, tucked under a knit beanie like always. I'm running my fingers through the dark, always slightly greasy locks and we're laughing until it hurts about who knows what. Your hands on my hips like fire. Its just us in this room of darkness. The whole world is miles away, even though my parents sit in the next room, not quite knowing the immensity of the love blooming so close to them. We've been laying here for hours but we never want to leave.

We've been talking for days but we never want to stop.

We've been loving for such a short time but cant wait for more.

I loved you so much, so wholly and pure that nothing else in my life made any difference. You were my left and I was your right. Separate we were lost but together we could take on the world. We heard their doubts and felt the sting of their words but it made no difference to us. We were young. Sixteen and in love. Fifteen and consumed by the presence of my only. I believed so completely that you were it. That I found you and you sought me and we would forever live in the vastness of the other. From the day our eyes first met I loved you. From the moment your fingers touched my skin I wanted you. From the first note of your voice I never wanted you to be quiet.

I was fifteen but felt grown. You took me from the naive, lost, just learning little girl I was to the grown, loved, experienced woman I was to become. We laid on that bed under the warmth of a blanket, intoxicated by the scent of the other and every word we spoke was like a whisper to the soul. Every touch we felt was like a secret told to the other.

'I need you so much closer'.

It was like we could never be close enough. And when we would talk all the words there were to talk, we would grow quiet. Letting our bodies do the talking. We were young but old enough to know. It felt so right and so wrong at the same time. Maybe I gave myself to you too soon, but it didn't matter. I gave you my body, but it was my soul you earned. I handed over every part of myself wrapped in delicate paper and tied with a crimson bow. Without reservations. Without doubt, or worry I gave you myself never once thinking you could do anything but accept it with the utmost care and gratitude. We would move to the floor to avoid the creaking of the wood slats under the soft mattress, but it never felt cheap. Nothing with you ever felt anything but perfect. We were silent. Nothing but the faint inhalation in my throat and my exhale whispering softly could be heard. Cool perspiration would form on our foreheads and my long blonde hair would always somehow fall loose from its restraints. We would be at it for hours, never wanting to stop. Never imagining one without the other. Our eyes would widen and stillness would ensue whenever a creaky floorboard could be heard. And when we'd had enough we would move back to the bed and in each others arms we would once again be.

In that room we planned our life. We built our house and named our kids. We ran away and gave each other the life we felt we deserved. In that room we grew together. We laughed and cried. We hoped and we felt defeated. We argued and made up. We were invincible but so small at the same time. If the walls of that room could talk, it would speak the words of young love. So textbook, but so unique all at once. If I could bottle the scent of the air it would smell of candies perfume and you. If it could offer advise it would have told us to remember every single moment spent within its walls. That those days were limited and that life would never be as simple or innocent as it was at that time. And if the memories I have of that room tell me anything it would be to never regret- not for a second what we had together because it was perfect and special, and complex and deeper than anything we may ever have again.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

I think back to those days and I feel so lucky. So fortunate to have experienced what we did together. And nothing. Not the mistakes made or the hateful words spoken or the anger thrown at each other can taint that. And I can say I tried. I tried so fucking hard to hold onto that love that used to dwell between us. I never wanted to let it go. I never wanted you to let me go. But you did and I did now I'm gone and oh my fuck how I miss you so. And I'm so scared and so hurt and so desperate. But you cant force whats not there. You cant patch whats been cracked. You cant ever be the same as when you were young and in love.

“When the freckles in our eyes

Are mirror images

And when we kiss

Their perfectly aligned”

-The postal service

*written on 7.30.10

But I fear our time has come

It was 11:00 at night and we had been working since morning. We knew that this was it and bitterness filled the air. The goal was to be finished by midnight- the day that we actually had to be out, but it was apparent before then that we weren't quite finished. One more day was all we needed, but still this felt like the end. Tonight would be the first night that we went our separate ways. You, to your parents house. Me, to my best friends house. And when we were so tired we just couldn't do it anymore we circled the house, locking windows and turning down light switches. We turned the porch light on, locked the door and stepped into the cool nights air. And I lost it. But you had it together. I felt my heart crack and the breath catch in my throat. I was nothing but cold sweat in the cool early June air and the tears came without permission. I cried and I cried and I said that I didn't want this. I was overcome with emotion ready to go back on everything that I had said because I love you and I want you and oh God please don't leave me...

But you felt nothing. I stood there and cried and you wrapped your arms around me in the reassuring grip of one friend to another. And it made me so angry that you were so unaffected by this. But at the time I was only angry that this was so easy for you, the hurt not quite set in. But I still thought that I needed to give you time. That your tears and your heartache would come and that you would reach out to me. But it didn't happen, and it still hasn't happened. And now I am just left with a great feeling of confusion. I haven't allowed myself to cry, or grieve over this. Partially because I'm hurting so much that Ive reached that blockage that wont allow tears, and partially because I'm afraid that if I start crying I wont ever stop.

What happened to us? We used to be so in love. We had such passion for each other. Our love was strong, unbreakable, and invincible. It didn't matter what we did or didn't do, as long as we were with the other we were happy. Somehow that intense love turned into pointed fingers, crossed arms, and a lack of trying. I am not perfect and I have made plenty of mistakes of my own when it comes to us, but I feel like I have tried and tried and tried until my heart was laying on the floor and my arms fatigued from the grasp of trying to keep everything together. And I will not apologize for feeling like you stopped trying along time ago. Slowly we stopped going out, we stopped cuddling in the afternoon, we stopped laughing the way we used to, we stopped making love almost entirely, we stopped being us. And eventually I just got tired of being ignored and hurt and I tried to talk with you. Tried to get to the bottom of why this was happening but it never got us anywhere. And your responses would do nothing but hurt me. Because none of that used to matter.

It never used to matter what was on the tv because we would huddle under a blanket and cuddle and talk and laugh and just exist together. We would talk about our futures and we would talk about our past. But now I cant remember the last time we did this. Now all I remember is me alone under the blanket, and you across the room seperating us with the computer, or video games, or the tv. It never used to matter the destination we could just drive to drive. We would hold hands and crank the radio. We would be silent but we were so connected that we were constantly communicating, even without words. Sunny days with the windows down and music notes pumping from the speakers are some of my favorite memoreis. Days where we would drive from the afternoon until the sun was setting below the horizen behind us. But now all we ever do is point A to point B and as im turning the music up your right behind me turning it down. It never used to matter what time it was. We were so happy to be sleeping next to eachother that we would wake up and scooch closer together to feel the softness of eachothers skin, and then we would drift in and out of sleep for hours. Cuddeling and laughing, and ignoring phone calls. It never used to matter what the argument was we would fight and yell and then we would apologize and kiss and go on with our lives. We loved each other unconditionally and there was not one thing I could think of that I disliked about you. But now...

You have given up. For what reasons? I'm not really sure. Maybe I made things too easy for you. I took care of you, cleaned the house, made you dinner every night, listened to you talk and did everything that I could to make you happy. I acted as your wife without the commitment and you liked that a whole lot. And eventually instead of feeling pride for everything i did for you I began to feel used and taken advantage of. I felt like I was getting nothing in return, like I was in this relationship alone, and slowly resentment began to set in. Or maybe you really have just lost your love for me. And if that is the case then my heart will break but I'll be ok. Because I just want you to be happy, and know that I deserve to be happy as well. But I just want to know so that I can stop investing myself in a dead end dream. There used to be a time where I was all you needed. There used to be a time you couldn't keep your hands off me. There used to be a time you couldn't imagine falling asleep when we were apart without saying goodnight. There used to be a time where you would do everything that you could to keep me.

I never want to regret all the years that we spent together. Please don't ever make me regret that. And I pray that we can make this work. That we can fix whats broken and get back to how we used to be. But I know that things can never be the same. That once certain lines are crossed you can never go back. I know that relationships change and grow and stagger at certain points but I know that I deserve more. I want to be with a man that cant imagine his life without me, not someone who is indifferent. And this hurts so much but now I have to step back. Because I cant be the one to hold this together any longer.

i said i wish that we could stay here
but i fear our time is come
we could ride out in the darkness
chasing the rising sun
we gotta pack our bags this instant
we're headin' southbound til the next town
and if we arrive there so safely
baby you could lay me down
-The Dirty Heads, Lay me down

Under everything, Just another Human being

I am sitting here surrounded by darkness of a room that isn't mine, sitting on the firmness of a bed on loan, sitting here listening to the rhythmic beat of the spring rain that falls outside of a window that doesn't belong to me. I'm alone and I'm lonely. Confused, torn, lost, broken, tired, and defeated. Once again each night I have sat down to chronicle the events of the last several days and I have just been unable to. I don't want to speak or write the words of the reality that has fallen into our laps. And while a million different thoughts and regrets and questions are running through my brain there is a constant whisper in the darkened corners taunting me that this is what I wanted. We bought the boxes, carefully shaped them into squares, secured them tightly with bright red duct tape and packed away the days of our lives. We stacked the memories, and wrapped the laughter in bubble wrap so carefully as not to damage the integrity. We said goodbye to slammed doors and crossed arms leaving those memories to sleep for good. And when I entered the bedroom that we shared for nearly two years, completely empty from everything that was once us- diminished to nothing but ugly brown carpet and semi white walls I was overwhelmed with memories of saturday mornings. With the sun shining in the windows, us under the sheets, faces tinged blue from the dyed cloth, belly laughing until it ached so good , completly lost in the moments that were ours and no one else's. I remembered the nights that the unknown woke me from sleep leaving me quietly laying in the softness when you would stir next to me, roll over and wrap your arms around me. Subconsciously protecting me from whatever lay in the dark. We were so connected that you knew when I needed you even when you were peacefully slumbering away. And even when I tried I was unable to think of the shameful times where words were thrown and names were called. The times when we forgot who we were and allowed anger and jealousy and hurt turn us into strangers with furrowed brows and rigid shoulders.

We stripped the walls and rolled the rugs of the living room. Packing away every detail that made this small, outdated two bedroom duplex with the crooked corners and the brown accents ours. I stayed strong and focused in front of you. But as soon as you left for another errand I sat on the slate grey carpet surrounded by random trinkets yet to be tucked away, listening to nothing but the rain outside and I cried. Big round tears formed in my eyes and slid off my chin into the carpet that we'll never collapse on in a fit of tickles and laughs again. I thought of the friends that have sat in our living room, on the furniture that we chose together and laughed with us and shared our home, and the pride that we held for creating this place. I thought of the movies watched under the safety of the red blanket with the lights turned low and our puppy tucked snugly between us. So comfortable, so safe, and content that I usually never made it through a whole movie. But I didnt think of the backs turned and the frustrating conversations that we seemed to have a hundred times never getting anywhere.

We wrapped each dish in each cubbard carefully with newspaper in hopes of not losing any to chipped edges or cracked faces in the move. We packed away the smells that used to fill the house and make belly's grumble. We slid the pride I would have when I created a new dish or perfected an old one, into plastic bins and stuffed them to the top. I saw myself standing at the cutting board chopping colorful vegetables, creating memories of my own. I chose to see that instead of the dishes piled high neglected for weeks much to my dismay.

And then we loaded the trailer, we stuffed the wagon, and filled the Passat and we drove our lives to the 10x10 we rented down the road. And then you drove away. Off to your parents house. Back to the place that carries bad memories and hurt childhoods, but it is where you chose. I turned the other direction left to float between a generous friends family and my sisters house. Relying on my car to be my closet. I never in a thousand stormy days thought that I would be homeless at any point in my life. But here I am and I could sit here and go into each reason why I chose what I chose and detail how the inner conflict between my head and my heart is panning out but today, I am not going to do that. Today I am going to leave this post to chronicle the love that we shared in that house. To pay respect to the two years that we were happy there. To offer hope to the prospect of rebuilding what has been broken in order to get back to the toothy grins and silly faces that we have shared for nearly seven years. There is plenty of time to work through the complex and tangled reasons why we are in this situation to begin with. But for now, all I can do is Just breath.

"Oh I'm a lucky (wo)man, to count on both hands
the ones I love,..
Some folks just have one,
yeah, others, they've got none, huh-uh
Stay with me,..

Let's just breathe.

Practiced are my sins,
never gonna let me win, aw-huh,..
Under everything, just another human being, aw-huh,..
Yeh, I don't wanna hurt, there's so much in this world
to make me bleed.
Stay with me,..

You're all I see. "
-Pearl Jam, Just Breathe

I need you so much closer

I never thought that I would end up here. But here I am and I'm lost, and I'm alone, confused and broken. I don't know what to do now, or next and I'm not even quite sure what to say. Usually through the dark crevices of my brain words can flow freely from my fingertips to document the times and the feelings, the events, and the troubles. But not this time. In a few short days I will be without a home. Stuck in a place with no address and no belongings that are mine. Over the past several days we have begun packing our home. The place that was ours for a year and four months. The place that has seen the highest highs and some devastating lows, the place that I will cry, and mourn for once the keys are out of our hands. This is quite possibly one of the most difficult times in my life. And it is exceedingly difficult to believe that things will get better eventually. There isn't one area where I feel secure. Not one place in my life that is a constant. That I feel like I can breath easy and sleep with confidence that at least I have this. Or at least that will not change. And while I sit here in the bare room of the house we worked so hard for I cant help but feel like the walls around me are cracking. That the world is crumbling around me and I am just desperately trying to shelter my head, trying to cover my face, trying to protect my body from as much damage as possible. I don't know where to go from here. I don't know where to start piecing the fallen bits of my life back together and how to create a new life from scratch in place of the old one.

I have just been in a constant state of near tears. Doing everything I can to hold back the tears with the dams that are my eyelids, trying to stay strong, be solid and grit my teeth through it all. But I wont lie and say that it has been easy. Packing up a home with 7 years of memories in it, boxing up love and hope, bagging your past present and future with a man whom you always thought would be the one is perhaps one of the most difficult things you could ever do. And while my heart is saying one thing I know that I must listen to my head, heed the warning in my gut and go with what they say. Because your heart can play tricks on you. It can lead you to believe that love is enough. That just because we have the bond that we have, since we have the love and the history that we have, since this is all tearing me up inside that we should stop this all and go back to who we were. But in the end I know that that is wrong. And as much as I would love to believe that love is enough, it really isn't. Because right now we are broken. There are so many things that need to change, so many lines that can never be uncrossed, so many cuts that need to heal before we can begin to make decisions for our future. And the world has a way of making the difficult, excruciating. Because while I would love to use this time to run on auto pilot. To clear my brain and think of good things it is impossible. The pictures and the cards from years passed that I run into while packing and unpacking make it impossible to not shed tears for times that once were. It is mourning a past that should have been the present. It is laying to rest a future that may never happen.

And I feel alone. Because over the last 6 and a half years you have been my constant. You have been my rock, and my foundation. You have been there for me when no one else would be. You have shown me what it is to love a persons faults. You have laughed with me, loved me when no one else would. You have rubbed my back as I threw up, sick enough that I felt I would never get better. You have covered my bare arms with a blanket that I was too weak to pull up on my own, sick from a flare that I felt could end me. You have filled my tank when my pocket was empty and you have filled my spirit when it was just as empty. And even now after the decisions have been made you continue to offer support to me, your best friend.

In a few short days I will be sitting in the house of near strangers. A friend so generous to offer me a place to stay until I can find my own, but with his parents presents the difficult part. I will be a guest for two weeks. Stuck in a place of uncertainty. With no place to call my own. And while this will be such a challenging time for me I hope that I can begin to heal. That through the process of being on my own. Of signing a lease into my own name and filling an apartment with everything that only I want I can begin to self reflect. To mend my broken self so that in turn, we can mend what has been broken between us. I hope that I can finally create the life that I've been speaking of for so long. I hope that I can overcome my fears, beat them to the ground and accomplish the things that I should have long ago. My goal is to work on enlightenment mentally, physically, and spiritually. Because it is never to late to create the life that you dreamed for yourself and it is never too late to be the person you know you should be. I don't know what the future holds, I don't know what God has intended for my future, And I don't know what is going to happen to us in the end. But the one thing that I wish for the both of us, the one thing that I want for you more than anything and the one thing that we both deserve is happiness. In whatever we are doing, and wherever we go in our futures I pray for nothing but peace and happiness for you. And to know that whatever has happened or will happen,

I will love you forever and always.

You could be happy

Because this is it and now its over and I don't know how we got so far away. Away from the people we were and who we were going to be because I cant even recognize you. Or us. Or me. I never thought this would happen and I never wanted it to end but it happened without any ones consent and now I'm lost and I'm broken and I never wanted that car ride to end.

I tried to hold on. I tried everything I could think of to not let go of everything we've ever had. So much history, way too much to just let go, and I tried. I tried so fucking hard to grasp those last few pieces we had left. I held on until my knuckles were white and my palms were bloodied but it didn't matter how hard I tried or how much you wanted it because the pieces slipped through the thin cracks between my fingers and fell to the ground. And it was a futile attempt from the beginning of this all and you know it because you cant force whats not right but we both tried so hard. So fucking hard.

And I don't know what to do when its just me and I'm without you because baby you've been my lungs and my soul and my heart for so long now that it feels like my chest has just gone hollow. But I can honestly say that I still love you to this day and that is something that will never change. I don't know what it is that we need. I don't know what will make this right. I don't know how we can salvage whats been lost and rebuild that future we always planned late at night. But I hope that there's a way and that we find it. Because when I picture the rest of my life without you in it I don't even want to say what it feels like.

Maybe we just need some time. Time to sort out what we've been going through to decide what we both really want. Because I don't want to force you and it feels like Ive just been pushing you. It was no secret that when we started this so many years ago that we were too young to even know the changes that happen as you grow. And we've both been trying to delay whats been happening, to make ourselves into the people we were when we met but its just not possible. I want nothing more in this entire world than for you to be happy and I think we owe it to each other to give life a chance on our own. Because can you really appreciate someone if you've never known your life without them? And the hardest part about this all is that I'm not only losing the man I love but the absolute best friend that Ive ever had. And it hurts to much to think of those days gone, I just hope that you remember your promise to me.

And its not your fault, I would never place blame on you or I or who we are. Because whatever has happened, happened through the wind and the trees and the natural order of things. But it doesn't make it any easier to part with the dark haired freckled goofball that I fell in love with so many years ago. But I worried then like I worry now that its not the same things that we want in life. Back then it didn't matter because we had love and we were young, no one could touch us and we were invincible. Back then we had such a passion for each other that no one could break even though they tried. I was addicted to the scent of your skin and you couldn't get enough of the way my hair tickled your chest when I'd lay my head on your shoulder. And the way that we could laugh until we cried and over the years cried until we laughed together. And I gave you my heart you knew my soul, and you promised you'd keep them safe.

We've made it through so much already that it just seems foolish to stop fighting now. But the strategy that we've used all along its not working this time so maybe if its changed we can change for good and come out of this alive. And I could talk for hours about the times we've had. The good and the bad and the unforgettable. About that night we spent under the stars. On the beach in the ocean laughing our love into the oncoming waves. Carefree and careless but it was ok because the water was warm and we had each other. We built this life together, we made this house together and now we're going to pack it up and turn our backs. But if I believe in anything its faith, and hope, and God, and Karma. I believe that God already has a plan and that this is apart of it. And I believe that if we're meant to be we will be. But we can force this any more.

And While I'm laying there alone at night. So wishing that I had you to hold me in the dark, I have to stay strong. And while I'm crying tears of sobering truth that soon this will be over, I have to stay strong. And while your still making me laugh until my stomach hurts so good and making my soul smile with the humor you've always had, I have to be strong. And when my breath constricts with the anxiety of the reality that I will be alone and completely on my own, I just have to inhale strength. To find a way to be strong. Because I have become the dependant person that I never wanted to be and for me, and you, and us I'm going to fix that.

"I'm takin all I have to take cause takin's gonna shape me"
-Kings of Leon, Knocked up

Sun Kissed Fields

Sun Kissed Fields
Enumclaw, WA

Just another dirty face

I saw you yesterday. You didn't see me, at least im pretty sure of that. In your own world high up in that stupid truck you own. Its been years. Truley years since I've even thought of you. Anger and shame is long gone baby, cause your not worth my time. You weren't worth it all that time ago either, but try telling that to a beautiful disaster. One look at your face and the floodgates of memory open and the lingering smell of wet concrete and old red seats come in. Long nights shared with you. Never to my face. No not to my face and if I'm really honest with myself, I can say that I truly don't know if that was more for your benefit or mine. Desperate to feel needed I took it too far. Desperate to feel satisfied you let it come in. Your fault or mine?

I was a young girl trying to be grown. Long blonde hair, small waist, and an ignorence for truth. You smelled the wetness behind my ears a mile away. Preyed on it, got high off it. I was self destructive, trying to find a way out, out of what im not sure. Life? Reality? The sheer normalcy of the yellow painted house called home? But you knew what to do, you knew how to work me, you knew I would break.

Children of technology it started simply enough. Too late summer nights spent behind that screen. Hours we would talk. Typing fast, the world falling away around us. I wish I could say I shared my soul with you. But I cant. I shared lies with you. I rehearsed the words that I knew you would want to hear. But all this time later I take solace in knowing that you didn't know me. You never knew me and you never broke me. I wasn't attracted to you. But you didn't want me and that was too much to accept. Boys wanted me. Plenty of them. Not new to the sideways glances of young brown eyes I waited for yours to come calling.

And of course they came. My body was present, my mind a mile away. Away from that night, away from the cheapness, the sickening truth of it all. It was October and much like the rain, I was falling. Splattered on the concrete I was forgotten. It was over before it started but the effects of it just begining. As if I needed any other reason to lower myself that night. As if I needed any other reason to be nobody. A Truce made true between two friends, between us this will stay. Of course just another lie spoken that late October night.

Ironically enough the car was parked in the parking lot of my youth. Middle school, not long ago yet a million miles from where I sat. Not much had changed really. Hips wider, and an inch taller, but mentally, just the same. I let you bother me too long. I let your shallow poison drip into the torn innocence of my heart. But one day I laid myself to sleep, and upon the bright sun of the morning let you go. Let you go, let that time go. I realized that the decisions you make in the vulnerability of your youth don't define you. You change and you grow and the dirtiness accrued at one time or another drips off your back and fall to the ground. You can be new. You can be clean, you can be free of mistakes of your past.

I dont know why I saw you that day. I dont know why old memories were stirred or why our paths crossed. But I do know that it left me with a smirk. Because Ive made it and you havent. In a few days Ill be on my way to California. On may way to the dream of my life. I'll be free and careless, sand between my toes and my soul being cleansed by the goodness of the sun. And once again, you'll be nothing but an old memory, filed away in the dusty corners of my brain. You'll be alone, and lonely, and ill be flushed with the love of another. You may have shook me for a time half a decade ago, but you didn't break me. You tried but you failed. You fell into the abyss that is nothing.

In the eyes of innocence

In the eyes of innocence
Dominic, seven months old

Both a Beginning and an end

I saw your Facebook page the other day. You made it as private as possible, just like you made your life to me; private. But I went around that. And I saw the pages of your family. The family that you kept from me. the family that shares my last name, my blood. Unfamiliar faces glowing on the computer screen in the dimly lit room of my house. Reading through status updates and comments left between family, a familiar emotion washed over me. A feeling of sadness, of betrayal, of longing and understanding trickled from the top of my head to the ends of my toes; and even though Ive felt this before, it was more profound then ever before. I think it was at that moment that my inner self dropped the facade and allowed the understanding that you are happy to come in. I realized that ever thinking that you were alone, unhappy, or regretful was stupid of me. What the hell was I thinking? I suppose that scene in my head was built from denial, from still caring for you, for still hoping that you cared for me.

But that was a lie. You walked out of my life and straight back into the life that you lived 20 years ago. You left and you kept on leaving until you reached the red rock sand of Arizona. Reuniting with a woman that you knew 40 years ago. A woman that I will be damned to believe you only regained contact with after you dropped my mother and I. You linked arms with her, shook off the past 17 years of responsibility, of a daughter who needed you, and a day to day life that you despised and you settled on into a life that you finally got to live after such a long run in purgatory. I saw the brothers and sisters of yours that you hadn't spoken to in over a decade. The parents of yours, elderly and fragile. The same parents that couldn't accept us. Couldn't accept my mother, the woman that loved you more than you've ever been loved before. The woman who already had two children; older children from previous marriages, from previous lives. The woman who laughs a little too loud at times, the woman who lived without a veil of lies, the woman who passed her Jewish genes to your only child. The child your family would have liked to christen, to baptize, and confirm; the child your family would have nothing to do with.

I saw the structure of a family tree that I have never had. Your family together from the in ground roots of your grandparents, to the sturdy trunk of your parents, and the leafy branches of your siblings. So different than the shaky branch that I call my own family tree. I saw a family that even though each and every one of you are fucked in the head in your own ways, you stick together. Being welcomed back into a family that you had exiled yourself from for the good of the family you chose. Going back on every thing you had ever told me about your life as a young person in southern California.

And I was once again reminded that I don't know you. Not really; and I never have. It is still shocking for me at times to remember that I grew up living in a house with a man that I called daddy but was always distanced from by the solid concrete wall he'd constructed around himself. I can recount almost the entire life story of my mother. Of course not everything, I know there are things that she has chosen to keep from me, life stories and experiences that me, as her daughter does not need to know but I would have no problem constructing a time line, or writing an essay. But not you. No. Growing up i didn't ask many questions of you and your life. I guess I could feel it in the air at a young age that your life as a child, as a young adult, and as a person that existed before me was off limits. Anything that I did ask you was answered with a simple vague answer, or the generic 'I'll tell you when your a little older'. I know most of what i know by asking my mother. You at least shared with her. She at least knew you a little more as her husband. But I cannot remember one time in my life when you recounted a funny story of something that happened in your childhood. Not once.

And then my thoughts of me not knowing you shifted to the realization that you do not know me. And you probably never will. You left at a very pivotal time in my life- really in any ones life. I was 17 years young, gearing up for my high school graduation, held together by the boyfriend that had already loved me for 2 years, and just beginning to think of what life after the safety net that is school would be like. You were not very present. And when you were you were encouraging me to go to school, researching colleges online and trying to help guide me in the right direction. I was at a confusing time in my life, trying to accept that i had grown out of the ballet slippers of my childhood and getting used to the idea of leaving the nest. I was a typical absent minded, self absorbed, defensive teenager of 17 and that, is how you will always remember me.

You don't know me as the artistic, funny, capable woman that I am now. You don't know that i love to cook, and that my mothers talent and know how was passed to me. You've never tasted the home made bread, or the bolognese sauce that I was particularly proud of. You've never walked in my door to find me bent over the cutting board chop, chop, chopping away, humming the melody of my life.

You don't know that I've kept the same job for two and a half years. That I persevered day after day to gain the experience that i knew I would need to move past the telephone answering, appointment scheduling days of my early twenties. You don't know that i listened to your advise. That i listened to every word you ever spoke to me and that I held those words close to my heart. You don't know that i cherished every single one of the moments I spent with you as a young girl. The car rides to grocery stores, the games of catch in the front yard with the sun shining on us and the scent of cut grass hanging in the air.

You don't know that I've found my talent in photographs. That after years and years of believing that talent escaped me, that I had nothing to call my own I finally picked up a camera and saw something different through the lens. You don't know that portraits are my favorite, spontaneous and organic. You don't know that I gifted myself with a beautiful camera, a tool that became my outlet. You will never be a subject. Never stand across from me and have your face become captured in a timeless four by six.

You don't know what my house looks like. What couches, and wall hangings Matthew and I chose together. You don't know that summer time is my favorite but that the rainy streets of Seattle make me feel at home. You've never sat at my table as a guest in my house witnessing the pride i hold on my face for the life we have accomplished together.

You don't know that my feelings toward you have changed dramatically. At first it was nothing but a flurry of anger, of shock, sadness, hurt, and fear. For years a chip on my shoulder I held and anger in my heart but not now. I still feel all of those things of course at times. Mostly when I think of the blue eyed, courageous little girl of 4 that you abandoned. But now, my feelings are civil. I do not forgive you, I cannot forgive you and maybe I never will forgive you for what you did and I am angry that you stole the right for me to be happy for you. Because I could have been. You are my father, the only father I will ever have and through all of this shit, it helps me sleep better at night knowing that you are happy. That you have the life, now that you wanted then.

You don't know that its hard for me to even say the word 'Dad'. That the memories of my childhood with you are fading. That every happy memory I have of you is cheapened by knowing that you never cared. By knowing that you always wanted to get away. You don't know that when asked my full name, my last name feels foreign as it exits my lips. That the name now makes me think of you, and the family that birthed you; not me and the mother that took that name 20 years ago. You don't know that I would have kept it. That when Matthew and I finally tie that knot i would have held strong and kept your last name firmly planted behind my middle. In honor of you and being your one and only blood child. The only daughter that you will ever have. But now, I will take the name of my love, partially to start new with a solid foundation of a partnership, and partially to get away from the name that is not me. To change myself forever. To lay to rest the first chapter of my life for good.

But it gets easier every day. No longer do I think of you on a daily basis. No longer does the core of my being hurt quite the same way that it did in the beginning. Its easier now to push old memories and thoughts out of my head, out of my life so that I can focus on the right now. And I feel like now, almost 5 years later I am just beginning to heal. To be able to speak of you without tearing up. I am old enough, and mature enough to accept that I will never be completely healed. That the wound you created that November has a permanent place in my heart, but I am also mature enough to understand that that does not define me.

I remember the last time I saw you. In the hospital after my precious nieces surgery. Such a strong little girl, more at ease knowing that her whole family was with her. Including the tall, gray flecked bearded man that she called papa. The man that had become scarce in her life, without understanding why. It was a hard time for us, for the whole family. Not understanding why this precious child's kidney didn't function, why it was making her ill, and why they had to cut through the porcelain skin of a young girls abdomen to remove it. I was the first to break down. Trying so hard to become like steel. To be strong for her, to be strong for her parents- my sister. But as they wheeled her out of that room the sudden thought that she doesn't fully comprehend what is about to happen was too much for me. And I did it, my eyes filled up and spilled over unwillingly allowing fear to take over me, shamed that I couldn't just keep it together. And then you looked at me. You looked at me; vulnerable, and upset. Scared for that 4 year old and scared of the unknown, you looked at me; and then you looked away. And it was at that moment that I was able to throw away the maybes. I was able to toss the 'he'll come arounds' out the window. And for the first time I could say; My name is Bonnie and my father will never be anything but a fleeting, transparent memory of my past. And then I was able to let you go.

Ripples in the water
Oak Harbor, WA

He came and he went

I retreat inside myself. During times of sadness. Confusion, stress, anger, fear, its all the same to me. Its not something that I do with intention and it has always been something that does nothing but separate me from family and friends during times that I should be reaching out with tentacles of emotion and latching on to the only people that have really ever been there for me. The only people who have ever truly wanted to be there for me. But hard as I try its just not how I'm made. I would prefer late nights of inward agony to long heartfelt talks over steaming cups of tea that I hate, any day. To me, pain is private, my pain is private and it makes me an anxious pile of short breaths and upset stomachs to come anywhere close to sharing my pain. Huge wedges driven between those closest to me, wedges that I'm not sure I can ever mend. More to come in the future, that I'm sure of but the more I cause others pain from my isolations the more I want to isolate.

I cannot pretend that I felt any regret
Cause each broken heart will eventually mend
As the blood runs red down the needle and thread
Someday you will be loved
-Death Cab for Cutie
Someday she will be loved


Sitting cross legged on the faded brown carpet of my childhood; my sister next to me a strong, strong pillar bracing for whats about to come. There for support for the round bellied straight banged sister she wanted nothing but to protect. Nothing but a bright eyed hopeful child of seven I was. Ignorant, and un-foreseeing of the ability of others to hurt you. The ability of others to tip toe with torn heals on the hearts hidden within the chest of small children and big children alike. It had been several weeks since I had seen him. Not all that uncommon if it weren't for the fact that it was her birthday and the time for celebration, for party hats promised, came and went. Anticipation to kiss those chubby cheeks of the one year old that was less of a niece and more of a sister to me built and built, and the nagging questions came and came until it all came to a head. At this moment, right here, sitting on this shabby carpet looking up into the eyes of my trusted parents, this was the moment that changed everything. Unable to stall anymore, unable to create and recreate the bent truths and fabricated lies meant to protect me it finally had to be said. He would like it if we didnt see him anymore. Him and her, and that precious baby we love, well no more he said. The particulars and the mechanics, and the words and the hate of the situation omitted of course. But it didn't matter. He wanted me no longer and it was said and it was done thats all that did matter.

My big brother, my very big brother at fifteen years my senior had not always been a constant in my life. Living in a different state the state that birthed me, eventually making the move north, but always having his own life. I mean how involved can you be in the life of a sister fifteen years younger than yourself? But it didn't matter, all I saw through the glossy blue eyes of youth was my big brother. My brother that would always protect me and love me. Always be there for me and never leave. I sat there that day, a moment that I can still remember now, almost fifteen years later. I sat there with a very distinct feeling of being in a tunnel. A tunnel that encompassed only me, a tunnel that blacked out the corners of my eyes creating a round viewpoint, a tunnel that dulled sounds making everything seem very far away. A tunnel that created surround sound of the strong steady beat that was my heart. I listened, I sat very still and I listened counting the beats, wondering if it were true. If it were true that your heart could break. Did I hear a tearing sound? Was it ripping at the seams? Did it pop like a clear plastic bag filled too full with air? A new emotion to me, A feeling never felt in seven years, a feeling that I didn't know at the time but that would never go away. Only to be repeated and replaced over and over again through many years of life.

So I sat there alone, alone in my tunnel where no one could reach me and as I sat there I realized that I wasn't alone. I parted the darkness and swam through the weight, and I remembered that in the dully lit room with the brown shabby carpet was my family. My sister next to me I looked at first. Was she on the right or the left? I cant quite remember but the wet tears dripping from her chin I do remember. And when I looked at her I realized that I should do something. And not knowing what to do, I cried. I cried and I cried and I retreated and I retreated and I cried some more until I was scooped up and hugged and held and I could feel their arms but I couldn't see them from outside of my tunnel but they were there and I knew they were so there was no need for me to speak.

Fading into the background

Fading into the background

On the street of Seattle

Namaste

Today was my third yoga class and it is safe to say that I am addicted. My name is Bonnie, I'm 21, and I'm addicted to Bikram yoga.

It is absolutly one of the hardest things I've ever done but also one of the most rewarding. Its no big secret that me and physical activity don't generally get along. I was the poor chubby kid in elementary school PE class getting lapped by the next slowest person as I frantically tried to keep one foot moving in front of the other around the track. Seven year old lungs rapidly contracting as my chest felt like God had just crumpled it up like it were a blue lined scrap piece of paper. And everything just went downhill from there. Through the rest of elementary school I took every opportunity to not participate, to participate as little as possible, or to just take the easy way out and ask to be excused to the nurse. Its a very common misconception that children can keep up on an equal level of physical activity, I was the perfect example of one of the kids that couldn't. In sixth grade I had a full on panic attack when forced to run the track of the small gym for twelve minutes straight. That ended with a phone call to my mother, speculation on problems at home, and a nice feeling of humiliation for the rest of the year every time I stepped into that gym. Middle school was no better. Maybe even worse as I was the new kid at school. In the small town I now live in, there aren't often new kids and everyone has grown up together since preschool. We moved here in October of my seventh grade year right in time for dancing in PE! Let me tell you just how fun that was, no one really wanting to dance with the new kid. I mean who is that new kid right? She awkward and insecure, and less than thrilled about joining us. So lets not chose her just so she can be placed with the unlucky prepubescence schmuck that gets chosen for her! High school was a little better. No longer feeling out of place, and finally secure enough in myself to not care if I embarrassed myself pathetically trying to participate in whatever activity it was. Most of the time I just wouldn't participate at all and that is where my first ever D on a report card came from. Mom was proud it wasn't an F. Dad was pissed I mean who fails PE anyways?

After high school my diet didn't change much. Not really eating more, or different than I did when I was still classified as a high schooler. But even though that didn't change, my daily activity level decreased quite a bit. That plus no longer eating on the schedule of the school made for a horrible equation ending with a good thirty pounds gained. And those thirty pound have stayed. No matter what I do. I try the gym, I really do. And I can handle it on certain days, but as a general rule I hate it. 45-60 minutes on a treadmill, sweat dripping down my back, while I try to focus on the horrible tv in front of me is my idea of hell. Strength training is no better.

I had done yoga before. Regular, calming, low impact yoga. But I never really saw results with that either. That was until I finally got up enough courage to do it. The closest place that does Hot yoga is about thirty minutes away. Not bad, but enough distance to try and make excuses. But I wasnt going to let my own lazy ass get in my way this time! Plus with the new student special they were offering I really had no reason to say no. So it was decided. Sunday morning, at 10:00 Im going. I'm getting up, getting dressed, the key is going in the ignition, and off we go to sweat beading, muscle shaking bliss!.... except for I refused to wake up to the 8:00 am alarm and instead slept until 10:00. But thats ok! Theres another chance at 4:30 and this time, nothing will get in my way! And this time I really did it. I got there, checked in, stood at the white wood framed french doors took a deep breath in and opened the door. Immediately the heat curled around you and your sucked in. Not too bad though, I can handle this! A little humid- 40% to be exact, but not as bad as I thought! That was until the class started and panic began to set in.

I can say that I have never released that much sweat. Ever. It felt as if I had taken a shower in warm salty tap water. Most of the class I was flat on my back eyes closed, desperatly trying to get rid of that horrible dizzy, nausous, im either going to die or throw up feeling. But that was ok! To be expected for the first class, and even the second and third. I wasnt the only one struggeling so that was also comforting. I have to admitt that my attitude wasnt entirly positive the whole time. Thoughts were floating through my head that ranged between 'Please God if you let me survive this I promise I will listen to Derek from now on and just lift the god damn weights!' to 'I'm going to throw up, no, No I'm not I'll be OK. No I'm definitely going to throw up'. to 'well OK the end is near, I'm actually going to survive this. but im never coming back'! When class finally ended and I had laid in Savasana long enough I stood up, rolled my sweaty mat up and headed for the door. The second that the door was opened and the cool refreshing air flowed into the room I felt like I had never felt before. My eyes were opened, my body was cleansed, and my outlook was renewed like never before. It was a high that Ive never felt and I was immediately hooked!

Once in the car, the moon roof was opened, both windows went down, Death cab was put on play and my drive home commenced. I felt the happiest and most carefree that I have felt in a long time. And as I was speeding down the freeway, a genuine smile on my face with the cool April air pushing in on me and floating to my ears I felt like I could do this. I could do everything! That all of this stress that I've been going through these past few weeks, all of this uncertianty and hurt, frustration, and loss, all of it cannot and will not overcome me. That I am a strong person, a strong woman, and human being. Those 90 minutes in that little hot room surrounded by strong men and woman who all had one goal in mind changed me. It made me a better person in so many ways. Because along with all of the toxins, and the impurities that were flushed through my pores and soaked through my clothes was also all of the fear, and anxiety, and worry, and uncertainty of the future that I have been feeling. It was all gone. And all that was left was me. The person that I want to be, the person that I am working so hard on becoming. Because I can be happy on my own. Whether I am with that person or not, whether I am alone, or surrounded by the few people that love me, I am happy, I summer skincan be happy. And slowly but surely I am learning to depend more on myself to be happy than other people. That experience was exactly what I needed at this exact moment in my life. I need to learn how to make myself happy, how to be satisfied with myself, because if you put that responsibility in another person you will always be let down.

I don't know what my future is like. Hell I don't even know what tomorrow has in store for me, but that is OK. I will be OK- no matter what. And I am so grateful that I now have this amazing outlet to aid me in my journey. I have gone to a class after work three days in a row now and I feel like a whole new person. It is such a spiritual and cleansing experiance. And as I lay there feeling so sick, I know deep down that I can do this. I can stay in this room the entire 90 minutes. I can take the rest that I need, and then get back in the game. I can hold this pose the whole 45 seconds and I can push on to the second set. I can wipe the sweat from my neck and wipe it again, I can not give a damn what anyone else thinks, and I can push myself through this. I can not worry about tomorrow and I can leave it in God's hands. Because in the end it all comes down to him. He created me. Strong, independent, and capable. It is just up to me to discover how deep those things are buried within me, and then pull them out. Lift them out of me and use them, and instead push down the insecure, anxious, Dependant person that I have been. Because that is not me, it is not who I wanted to be when I grew up, and its not who I will be in the future.

Alis Volat Proriis
'She flies by her own wings'

A little story 'bout Jack and Diane

Its the first day of spring and I have definitely sprung. Today I felt alive as I was speeding home from my massage, loose and warm. The moon roof open, windows down and the radio turned so far up it became my heartbeat. The soft sun and warm air speeding in on me as i cruised down the road in my new car. I felt alive, awake and present. I felt like i could do anything take any risk and accomplish anything. I had just entered the pastures of Enumclaw when I decided to take a detour. Decided to change the station and go straight instead of turning left to home. And as i passed the fields of the city of my childhood, smelled the air of the place that Ive called home for nearly 10 years i felt like i could do this. I can tell my anxiety to fuck off and make the changes that need to be made. At that moment i could have told the world to fuck off and packed my car.

I could have filled the trunk with necessities and memories, backseat covered with blankets for my dog and the passenger seat full of the only necessity i really need; my love. i could have grabbed my camera, hung it from my neck and captured everything that i saw from here to California. Backups on I5 and pissed off commuters. The area of nothing but desert from southern Oregon to central California. Potty breaks for the puppy at cheap truck stops and the silhouette of the dark haired, freckled skinned, goof ball that has morphed into the man that I love; in the dusky minutes before the sun sets below the horizon. We would take detours onto the 101 just to see the ocean. To center us, to remember where we are and why we're doing this, to remember that its just him and i creating this life, creating this memory that is our early twenties. To remember that its in our hands. We would park under the bright stars of California in the warm night air, puppy asleep in the back, us laying on a fleece blanket on the hood. Talking but not. Talking with our bodies, understanding each other for the new people we have become. Two lovers not new to each other in reality but in fantasy fresh and exciting. Hearts beating and sweat beading on our foreheads partially from the heat, partially from the excitement of being someplace new, someplace forbidden, and partially from the passion seeping from our pores.

We would pull into the cheapest motels we could find. Backpacks full of only the bare minimum, bad take out food in our hands. We'd spread out on the hard queen sized mattress, pass around food and crack open our laptops. On a mission to upload, edit, and share the photos of my life. To review the previous day, pick out the most inspiring and edit to create the perfect immortal memory. Uploading to Flickr and updating my blog so that i can always remember what this time was like when my life was young. When my eyes were wide and my responsibilities few. And then we would fall asleep exhausted from the constant go, run down from not having a place to call home; in a bed not ours, with our puppy content between us feeling safe. And then we would go, keep going, keep pushing on until we drive through a place that feels like home to us. A place where we could see ourselves grocery shopping, working jobs that we'll tire of, and setting up a home to call ours. Would it be Santa Monica? San Luis Obispo? Would it be a place our ears had never heard before? We would be home and our life would be new. I would be free of the job, the experiences, and the heartache that transformed me into a woman. We would talk long hours on the phone to our families. The supporting, loving, unconditional families that we should have had from the beginning. And every three months we would make that familiar drive north to visit the town of our youth, to drive the streets we drove at 17, and to see the family and friends that helped shape our beings.

I would feel at home in the state that birthed me, at home in the glory that is the sun. California Dreamin. And we would live there proud of ourselves for changing what needed to be changed. All forgiven of the raised voices and jagged lines drawn in the sand of our past. We would be new. And we would no longer be afraid of not being the 15 and 16 year old children we once were. We would no longer be afraid of not being nestled under the protective wings of our parents. Death Cab would be a constant. The sound track of our lives year after year. "You may tire of me, as our December sun is setting, cause I'm not who I used to be"... But we wont be afraid. We'll grow together, laugh together, and be careless together. We'll accept that we wont ever tire of each other, we'll be content that we did it. We made it. Against the statistics. Against the nay sayers, against the natural order of things. We grew together from the moment we fell in love standing in the concrete courtyard of our youth. Thinner than now, more immature than now, more hopeful than now. Two self absorbed kids of 15 and 16 meeting for the first time. Two kids who's lives were changed forever as our blue/brown eyes met for the first time. Looking into the eyes of our future. Proud of ourselves that we fought the fight. Because no, love is not patient, it is not kind, and it does get jealous and boastful, it is not easy and it takes work but thats why its so rewarding. That is why its the most sought after, that is why we feel at home in each others arms.

And so we would live there. The day to day. We would become California natives, find jobs we don't particularly like and "peel the freckles from our shoulders...". We would stay, for months? Years? Decades? We wouldn't know but that will be OK because we did it together. We did this. We took the steps to make the change and we survived. We're alive and in love, happy and free.