~Sometimes it all feels like too much. When I say too much you must know what I’m saying. It’s just something bad happens, and as time passes, something, yes something, heals the pain. For a Christian it’s God, for an atheist perhaps a dose of existentialism, and for someone who surfs the plains on a less deep level it is the sweet satisfaction that comes from what they do have, because what lies beyond that is none of their concern at that time, and if in fact it is God they do believe we encounter when one exceeds this life, then they do not associate him with the negative happenstance, but rather, the reality of the blessings that were fulfilled, and an icon of the future. Regardless, we all deal. Though what happens is that one moment you are fine, but then seconds later you remember how when your grandma was alive she would bake you cookies that smelt like the bakery you just by chance found yourself in that random day, or, late at night you may stare out the window off into the starry abyss and be strongly reminded of the passions you’ve now dismissed, the dreams that have vanished. And with one word his eyes or her smile may flash into your mind, and your heart aches with the bitter pain of what was and what no longer is. It is moments such as these that I do not shake off the pain, but rather embrace it. One might find this contrary to the existence of a happy life, but I find it necessary. You have two choices, to face the pain, yet truly feel. Or to dismiss the pain, but live on the outside. I neglect the latter, for fear of never truly living, and loosing the passion in not ever really letting go of something that matters to you. Or perhaps, for faith, a faith that requires no fear in emotion, a faith that requires the most painful honesty with oneself.~

* If I lay here, if i just lay here...would you lie with me, and just forget the world?*

Leaving is the worst. To look into someone’s eyes and have to say goodbye is just plain horrible. When I leave I like to do it “Band-Aid style”—quick and efficient. You can’t fully plain your leave, but rather, you have to jump into you car and hit the road. At first, you bit your lip, because you so desperately want to cry, but soon your music is turned up as loud as it can go, and you try to forget the life you just left, and remember the one you’re returning to.
I love home, I love almost everything about it, but when I stay here to long I get restless; that’s why it’s good for me to move. I love the summertime, when the sun is hot and bright, and my skin gets tan. I love the lake, and how it feels with the wind whipping at your face when you’re on a boat or a jet ski. I love to run on the soft dirt of the track, as the sprinkler splashes my face and the summer evening sets in. There is nothing like the promise of a sunshine summer morning, and the magic in a warm summer evening. I love friends, and family, and to just be, in all life’s happenings.
I don’t like goodbyes. I don’t like leaving home, but it’s good for me, and in a few days my priorities will be miles and miles away. Besides, it’s not goodbye, it’s just see you soon.