Saturday, January 29, 2011

Possible futures:

Someday, someone is going to love her in ways she could never anticipate.
Someday she is going to find out that real love is better and harder than they all say.
Someday she'll cook him dinner and he'll carry the heavy things.
Someday she'll have someone to go on adventures with. And someone to come home to when  the adventures don't involve him.
Someday she'll find out that he can irritate her more than anyone she's ever met. And then make her smile.
Someday he might make her cry or leave her or break her heart.
Or someday he might prove that he really did love her for the rest of his life.
Someday she'll know what it is to be held and loved and wanted.

But today, she is alone.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

I wish I could have a picture of what I would look like at my goal weight. I think it would be so much easier to keep going if I had that face to look forward to. If I knew how my legs could be and how flat my stomach could get. I wish I could see it.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

I've had to let go of a lot of things. We all do. Some things are like a pan you suddenly realize is much, much too hot for bare hands. You drop it easily. But other things are more difficult to release. Steering wheels and handrails and other peoples hands.

This time I realize my grip was too strong. My poor, barren hands got too enthusiastic when I found something to hold on to and I didn't realize the edges were cutting me to pieces. I tried a looser grip but it was much too late.

I am covered in blisters and my fingers are shaking.
Even balancing it on my open palms is enough to make my eyes water.

Loving you just hurts too much.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011


I don’t want to be one of your phases
a glorious two-week infatuation
like your foray into oil panting
or that half-month you were going to be a photographer

I don’t want to be a temporary distraction
some new shiny thing to take up your attention
like the week you were going to play piano
or when you trained for but never ran a half-marathon

I don’t want you to fall in and out of love with me
all wrapped up and then discarded
like the boxes of how-to books
and shells of all those hobbies you were going to take up

I don’t want to be one of your phases
a short-term too-bright version of what I’m looking for
if I only get to be one of your phases
I don’t want to be anything to you anymore

Thursday, January 13, 2011

I have been many colors.

Many times yellow
like the summer sun
sometimes too bright
but full of joy and laughter.

Or a deep, deep blue
calm and peaceful
with untold layers

I have been gray
a blanket of clouds in December skies
a rumbling promise
an inescapable cold.

Green and brown
the colors of growing things
teeming with life and future
nourishing and being nourished

Oh and Red
all passion and fire
unreasonable and demanding
delicious and dangerous

And colors without names
or feelings without colors
like the electric sizzle of wanting you
the nervous flutter of anticipation
that sharp weight of rejection
the burning of lungs that just won't breathe
and the hollow pain of disappointment

I have been many colors
but my favorite shades were all moments with you.