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.

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.