sigh

my attitude has just been stank for the last couple of days

i would say my period was coming...but its really not. i should be moody all next week. i have 2 weeks before i should even be having this on coming feelings.

i was blaming it on the lack of blood from the fiasco that was tuesday. (i donated...relax...) and then on wednesday it was the lack of drivign skills of people residing in or around the dc metropolitan area...but today? i just woke up stank today.

emotional over my own fears i guess.

i dunno



aaron keeps asking if i'm pregnant. of course i would be able to tell at this exact moment. he says its because he's always tired. when jordana got pregnant he was always tired like this.

absolutely irrational justification...

i had a smart alek response.

well maybe you should check with that other girl

you know those jokes that you know are going to be funny one day. like hilarious when you look back years later and think of them... this is one of those. one day we'll both have shti and giggles about these days

today however is not that day

and i can't seem to stop telling the joke.




and not i can't stop thinking of her. the girl who so gracefully bowed off the stage and vanished from everywhere but my own subconcious. what if...

what if she was...

what if i hadn't..

what if she had...

or he had...

or any other what if...



and i'm trying to trust and believe and have faith...and not worry

but i wonder if when he looks at me he compares me to her the way he would look at her and compare her to me...



i wonder if i come up wanting as she had...




i wonder how i've digressed so quickly...




i wonder if i'll ever grow up again...

"tomorrow is another day" - Scarlett O'Hara

today would have been our 3 year anniversary. three years of ups and downs. or rather one year of ups and 2 years of downs...but it would have been something big and important and life altering.

.

for some weird reason 3 is a big number in relationships

.

.

the 3rd date makes things sexual (most of the time)

the 3rd month makes things official

the 3rd year makes things permanent

.

.

.

my friend shalanda said that at 3 years it's time to start talking about marriage.

"if he hasn't proposed by 3 years, cut him loose"

we never got to that point. we barely made it to 2...and 3 months after 2 we broke up. and then we argued for 9. and have the last stray 3 months later we're back...to something.

.

its strange but sometimes it seems like nothing changed. when i look at him i feel like the same girl who would walk over hot coals just to hear him say "i love you"

.

.

.

.

i pray i'm not that girl anymore

.

.

.

.

my mother says i'm just in a "desperate search for family"

.

maybe i am...maybe when i see him i hear those words...

.

.

maybe i'm a glutton for punishment.

.

.

but things are different and deep down we know they are. When you put the nails in the coffin...even when you pull them out the holes are still there. the pit is still dug

and its hard to jump over it and pretend like you didn't notice it there

"do you think we'll work this time"
"i hope so"

.

i remember when the answer used to be "yes" the faith we had in each other was so deep it was frightening.

.

.

.

i told him he's different now. he carries himself differently. the insecure boy i knew was gone and

there's this man in his place. its frightening...and exhilarating...

.

but sometimes when he doesn't know it i see him there. my little boy still. and i wish i saw him more often.

.

.

.

when i saw him again after all the time it was him still. he paced the room like a lion in his cage...a lion terrified something would get in...or worse that he'd get out. and when he sat next to me a tear leaked down his cheek and he wouldn't look me in the eye

"you left me, holly...i never thought you'd do that...but you left me"

i couldn't cry when he said it...because i had

and later. days later. i told him

"i'm sorry i hurt you."

"you can't say that to me" he said, " you can't say that because you left
me. you weren't there when i needed you the most..."

and i didn't know what to say. i saw myself crying as i always had...but no tears would come. perhaps i felt them...but after all the times i swore to never cry over you my eyes finally listened and refused...

"i just couldn't do it anymore...i couldn't stay...it was like i kept
competing with all these other girls for you to love me. i just couldn't hurt
anymore. i thought -"

"- don't. please don't. i don't want to hear how i hurt you. it hurts me to
know that i did."

we told each other what happened when we were apart...leaving out details neither one of us wanted to know...

"i text you while i was there...you didn't get it of course because i'd
shut your phone off by then..."

"what did you say"

"why couldn't you love me... ::shrugs::"

"i never stopped loving you. you just stopped being able to see it. i
always loved you, i just kept doing stupid stuff...but i never stopped loving
you."

he left his gf. or whatever he called it. he swears it wasn't a relationship...but he told me she cried. he said he had promised himself he'd never break up with a girl after the one time in elementary school...but she told him to get his stuff and then cried when he did

.

and i was sorry that she was hurt

.

and i little vengeful. happy that for once he chose me over all the other girls in his life...but i know what it feels like to watch him leave

.

.

.

he said he wished in a perfect world they could still be friends...but he knew i wouldn't be ok with it

.

.

i didn't say anything. i wished i could say i would be...i wouldn't. i wouldn't be able to look at someone who had stood where i stand. who held him while he slept. who looked at him and wished she could see the mirror image 40 years later.

.

.

.

.

i stayed silent because i wasn't strong enough to respond. but he knew...

.

.

.

he left the security of her for the maybe of me...

.

.

packed up his stuff. walked away from a set future.

.

i asked him why

"because i love you..."

the certainty that drifts in and out of our relationship...

"we would have been rich though..." he laughed

"well you can go back"

he glared at me...

"you would rather be poor with me than rich with her..."

"i didn't love her, holly...i love you...i want to be with you. i always
wanted to be with you.......maybe i just needed that time to get it all out of
my system."

he told me to go to germany

"i feel like you broke up with me because you wanted to do all those things
you couldn't do when you were with me and i dont' want you not go and then
regret it and think back that you could have if we weren't together"

"i didn't break up with you for that. i broke up with you because you kept
doing the same shit...lol....

...all i ever wanted was you, aaron. just you..."

and every night when i pack up my life i hold on to him a little tighter hoping that the next day i won't wake up and be back where i was a month ago. 2 weeks ago. this time last week...

i told him i'm scared. i echoed the words he'd said a few days before

"things are just too good to be true. i'm scared..."

he said "don't be. i just want to live each day at a time..."

and i am. i dont' look further than tomorrow. and i put together puzzle pieces to piece back the life i remember him in and try to place him back on a path that he can travel on...and i keep my little pieces together so that if things unravel at the seams i will still be in one piece

.

and it hurts a little to know that i do that...

.

but i do...

.

.

.

.

.

.

and for now i don't want to hear what anyone has to say...though i've heard them say it.

i just want a summer to love again. and i'll worry about the fall when i see it.

good night

exhausted...but i had a good night.

no regrets

no explanations


maybe later...today isn't a day for these kinds of stories.

sometimes i want to keep the secrets just to myself

*BANG*

i asked for a sign last night. i feel like i'm not the only one who does that, but i'll be the first to admit that i do. i hate to bother the lord with my trivialities...with famine and war and hatred swarming his inbox...but i read somewhere that if the lord can take a minute out of his time to protect the baby sparrow in his nest than he can take a second to listen to me...so i ask

once in a while...or probably more than once in a while...i fall apart and beg the lord to help me put the pieces together

and for a sign

just a sign that i'm doing the right thing. or the wrong thing...or that he's listening...anything to make me feel less alone int his world.


i remember my sophomore year i cried...i sobbed to the lord after years of running from him. i used to dream scripture. i'd be pulled awake with verses in my head or my heart that i had to look up...and i'd read them and sometimes they'd make sense...sometimes they would be exactly what i wanted to hear and sometimes exactly what i needed to hear and sometimes nothing that i wanted at all...i'd send them to my mother or my sister if i felt it applied to them rather to me

but i guess after all my running i lost the road back to those days when answer came quickly and easily


so i cried that night. wrapped up in a field of blew comforter praying out my window for help.

please...i can't do it anymore...i can't do this anymore...i'm done. just
send me him. send me my husband...please, lord. please

i had forgotten about that prayer months later after returning home. remaining in a lackluster relationships that had no complaints other than the fact that i didn't even think of loving him and a met this guy who i wasn't even interested in looking at twice...but it was nice to have someone think nicely of me...

i remember this story like it yesterday. a minute ago. right now...i don't know. i remember getting dressed. i remember getting int he car. i remember my purse on my knees and my hands in my lap and looking at him and thinking over the explosion of music assaulting my sensibilities

i'm not even slightly interested in this guy

and i looked out the window and the truck speeding past and i heard you. i felt you. words whispered in my ear as if your chin was wresting on my shoulder in an embrace

here's cory.

thats it. 2 word. 2 words that brought back years of memories. or being a little girl in a purple room and my mother telling us to pray for our husbands just as her mother had told her to...and being too young to understand to ask for security and happiness and wealth a prayed for a name.

Lord, please let my husband's name be cory.

who knows why i came up with that. probably an early infatuation with Boy Meets World. Maybe I wanted what Topanga had...who knows...but who would have known decades later I would remember that moment sitting in a car next to a complete stranger. i remember him looking at me and the little smirk just on the edge of a smile that he sent my way and that was it


i told him that story once. a year ago...during one of out many battles where we broke up and got back together. he had his own moment too. when he freestyles with his cousins a year before meeting me...but described every detail he never knew about me...he just knew...


and maybe that's why we always acted the way that we did with each other. Because it didn't matter. IF this was what was meant to be...then it would be. it had to be


but i wouldn't let it.


and he wouldn't let it.


and now its over.


sometimes i just have to write out what i've been thinking...so please ignore my constant complaints...i'm really not this bad in person. its just moments that a realize how much has changed...and how it shouldn't have if we were mature enough to handle what we had


and in my heart i keep saying i'll wait. i think i've always been waiting. sabotaging everything else in a th desperate attempt to keep what i lost...and i'm mad that you didn't do the same thing


but back to the point.


last night i asked for a sign


if i should go to germany or if i should stay

if i should wait or if i should move on

if it was meant to be...is meant to be...because you promised him to me...or if its over


after all the times i asked for signs to prove that i should leave...and each time i was given one that i ignored until i couldn't ignore them any longer


and then i let go. over something so trivial it seemed a joke...but it was the last moment i could stand.


but now i came back. and i ask for a sign. any sign...a punch in the face. a slap on the wrist. anything to show me which way to turn at this point





and this morning there was a bang.

and my mother ran into my room asking what his the house and what was that noise. i sleepily told her it didn't sound like something hit the house, but that something fell

but what?

i dunno. and i kept slowly getting my feet under me and find a way to get out of the house in a reasonable time to make it to work waking up at the time i should already be at the metro...but having fell asleep at 5 the day before and waking up at 10 with not even an ounce of sleep in my mind. ranting to christeenna for hours and watching So You Think You Can Dance reruns and my favorite Dancing with the Stars until my eyes began to close on their own accord

and as i ran down the stairs to leave i saw a frame peeking behind the couch and i called to my mother to tell her the bang wasn't something hitting us...but rather the picture had fallen off the wall

she came down. surprised at which picture it was. a panoramic baptismal painting. one of the survivors from our old life which has been hanging on the same nail since we moved in 5 years ago.

The nails had disappeared all together. the picture wasn't broken. just fell. slid behind the couch as if it had chosen a new place to reside


hmmm...thats strange. maybe its a sign that its time to move...

she said more to herself than anyone else. and i just stood there...

i listened and tried to understand. and took it as a piece and hoped to get the whole...and hoped the rest of the answers would be what i wanted to hear as well.

Finally

I finally made it. Finally

three years later. 4 DC appearances. 2 missed concerts. 1 broken ankle and 1 horrible break up later I finally made it to a Drake concert. And i was not disappointed.

i kind of hoped I would be. I thought maybe if I went...and he forgot the words, or couldn't keep a tune, or sat down the whole time, or the crowd wasn't into or someone spilled a drink on me...something anything would be proof enough that this infatuation would be short lived. unfortunately for me it was great.

it was a great performance. packed. wall to wall people. who knew every word to every song...even the ones not yet released. and it was great.

i hadn't even expected to attend. didn't look for tickets. wasn't planning an outfit. asked about the afterparty once and had no intention of going. Jenkins has already bought our tickets to a concert in August and I was fine just waiting until then...then all of a sudden Bran text me. Friday afternoon. cool nonchalant.

::Hey. u going to the drake concert on sunday?::

: I wish :

::Indeed. is it a time thing? cuz if not i may get tickets from work::

:Na it was a ticket thing. lol:

::Haha indeed. but if I can get tickets do u wanna go wit me?::

ummm...did he just propose marriage? because that sure sounded like a proposal to me

: YES!!! :

i didn't get my hopes up. didn't even think about it again until i was standing at my 5 year high school reunion...surrounded by people and purposely did not stay in contact with pretending to care about their future plans rather than checking my watch to see if it was the ideal time to leave and seem like i came for a reason rather than running away from the people i never liked (except for the select few [or one] who i was surprisingly happy to see again)

::I have good news...:: def never saw that message

::I guess ur hangin out...anyways i got two drake tickets.::

: Just screamed at the reunion. Lol :

so yeah...we went. best date of my life. he said he doesn't like drake. he also said he got the tickets for free...but i saw him slip the guest list woman a $50 so i guess free has a price these days.

it was wonderful. as to be expected. i have no words. we were close. close enough to know he wasn't clean shaven, his eyes are actually light brown and that he does in fact resemble the jewish side of his family a little more than the black relations...he was funny. and charming. and personable...and he loved what he was doing...and to me that means more that anything else. to absolutely love what you do. to have a passion for your art...thats priceless.

the show was amazing. i'm utterly exhausted and don't regret a minute of the 3 hour wait in line or the girl who tried to knock me out because i knocked her cell phone out of her hand (she should have been holding on to it tighter) or the short girl who kept flipping her hair into my mouth...all of it was fine to finally be there and see that it was talent that made him famous and not looks or acting or money...but talent and passion and drive.

and the fact that he hasn't forgotten where he came from and he hasn't forgotten it wasn't the hood. and he's still a person with hopes and dreams and faults and its wonderful to know that this new generation of artists are people. people that we can relate to and look up to and are

real...

just real.

and standing in a room over capacity with one exit and 2 balconies and hundreds of people between the ages of 15 and 35 from white to black to asian to everything in between and mixed together shoulder to shoulder relating to one thing...or a million things and all these ideas and plans and dreams...

it was

great...

ups and downs

just ran across a picture of my ex making out with his new gf on facebook. the time it was posted was less than a week after he was emailing me to see him.

quickest way to ruin a night...

on a high- i got into the University of Heidelberg class of 2012!

perfect timing because i really need to make an exit from this scene.

just have to figure out where i can get the money. and then i'm out like trout.

maybe this is why i've been feeling so flightly recently. both of these things.

scoob told me he erased my email too. lol. thank goodness for germany

daisy's back

There was this book i read once. and i emphasize the once because i tend to finish a book and immediately begin again until i know the book by heart and i can skip to my favorite parts and read the first line and already know word for word what happens next.

i only read this once

i'm actually now sure what happened to the book. its not even in the library i call i room. i might have left it somewhere...but strangely enough i can remember that book almost better than the one i read last night

maybe because it hit too close to home


it was called Daisy's Back in Town by Rachel Gibson

I like Gibson's books. i like how she writes. her characters are realistic. their problems are problems we all face. their love seems real. their fights seem real- the only fiction is the moment when HE realizes he lover HER and there's a three page monologue about how perfect she is...


...that never happens in real life


but each of Gibson's books, about 4 pages from the end- there it is. like clock work. when i reread the books i usually skip those three pages and just get straight into the hint of the future of the last parting joke.

anyway. back to the book i'm talking about.


Daisy's Back in Town is about a woman returning for the first time in 15 years from her childhood home. her husband recently died and she has a 15 year old son and she has a secret (duh). Of course her long lost love is there and their story is told through flash backs and arguments that happen everytime there in a room with each other for longer that 3 minutes.

the reason the book seems to real to be true is by how the narrator describes the love between the three main characters (one being absent due to death)

There were two best friends and Daisy and they all loved each other. Daisy married one but always loved the other (just read it to find out more...)

but its explained that her love for her husband was calm and peaceful- like an ocean. they matched each other. it was soothing and comfortable and right

but with Jackson (had to look up his name) it was explosive. Always explosive. their fights were huge. their reactions huge their love HUGE. there was never a calm moment just one to the next to the next


it had always been that way. and it terrified her. even then it terrified her. as a little girl.

what happens if the explosions stop?


what happens if they don't?



it just seemed to much like me i guess...that feeling. that explosion...


i'm terrified of that feeling