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Him as hero not author: Act II

   "God's problem is not that God is not able to do certain things. God's problem is that God loves. Love complicates the life of God as it complicates every life." - Philip Yancey     Once the blindfold was taken off of us, we had everything. All good and perfect was ours, but we destroyed it. We destroyed the heart of the Lover because we are foolish and selfish. I haven't always had the greatest sense of empathy. When I am in the midst of my own drama, I remain quite emotional; when I am viewing someone else's drama, I remain quite logical. It is the blessing and cursing that I carry. It is the juxtaposition that I carry from my mother and father.   But, imagining myself as the beloved, eyes unshielded and the world laid bare...I see a bit more clearly. When I graduated high school, my brother bought me a laptop. It wasn't the first selfless act he had ever done for me, nor would it be the last, but I remember this one particular time because there a...

Him as hero not author: Act I

   It is as every lover wishes: their gift to be accepted and cherished. I was always one for accepting the gift of someone graciously. I remember, when my parents had but little money, they would give me and Andy things that perhaps they couldn't afford, and we never once accepted with anything less than humility. We were taught that gifts are to be accepted whole-heartedly.    So it was with him. All he wanted was for the one he loved to accept what was most perfect. And, in the beginning, his lover did. It was easy. Because when things are easy it isn't hard to accept...anything. In fact, when things are easy, it is quite simple to accept without reproach.    Love is simple, or is it? He was always meant to be the hero of her story. He was always meant to be the best lover. He was always meant to be the best. But, his lover demeaned him. It wasn't hard though. Because when we humans are given perfect, we doubt intention. We begin to...

The romance or the arrows

   When we find that we are wading through the muck and mire of the deepest part of ourselves, where lies our heart, we find brokenness. We find, at times, scars from arrows that have been lodged there from long time past, or perhaps we still find arrows that never have been removed. By what do I mean? There are two messages that we encounter in life: the message of romance and the message of the arrows.      The hardest part of being a human is dislodging the arrows so the romance isn't effected or is at least restored. But, most of the time, we are hit by arrows we don't know exist until we get older. We can experience these arrows through loss which manifest as abandonment, or we can experience them through a violation of the mind, body or soul which can manifest as abuse. Whilst reading this book for the first time, I couldn't see the arrows in my own self. I didn't believe that I had any. I had little to worry about as far as abandonment or abuse...

If we lose this, we lose all.

   In the deepest place of ourselves, there resides our desires and our longings. It is the place that although flooded by the daily musings of work and family and friends still remains unfettered. The problem: is that most of the time the flood of our daily musings is too deep to wade through. It is a place I am longing to return to.     Throughout my life, I have done what I wanted. I never wanted for my own path because I was always on it. But, I do believe it has lead me to the place where I am now: "a whitewashed tomb." Sounds harsh...but I see myself as though I could be on the path of the pharisaical. And I mean this: that my mind is bound up in doctrine, but my heart has lost its desires and longings.     When I found my faith, I found a renaissance within myself, a "rebirth." And, for a long time, I lived this; I fed this; I breathed this rebirth. However, somehow, as of late, I have denied these longings. Do I know when it began? Perhaps with th...

It's times like these...

   When I have had a bit too much, when I think,  "I would like someone who tells me what he told me: you are beautiful." Or, maybe I would like someone who tells me I want to be with you. I have learned that the reassurances that come with commitment are comforting.     But, lately I have had to reassure myself. And, it is hard. There is something almost magical that I miss when I think about what I had and where I am now. But, I must say that I am happy. I have no complaints. I am good.     But life comes with obstacles. Life comes with telling someone you don't want something like marriage and a family to reassure them, when you thought that you had come to the realization that you wanted it. But, maybe you don't.     I think I say things sometimes so that I don't get hurt. I think I say things so that I am not obligated to deal with responsibility. I am a fragile person. I am almost like porcelain. But, I also believe that I have ...

"To write is to bleed..."

      Ernest Hemingway once said this, “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” How dark and demented. What in this statement is appealing? A writer writes for purposes that only he understands, but that writer is also human, and what human actually wants to bleed for the sake of being understood? Macklemore raps that, “The greats weren't great because at birth they could paint. The greats were great cause they paint a lot.” Such can be said for a writer. How often on a forum do you see a famous author answering the question, “What can I do to become like you: famous?” The answer invariably is: write. Just write. Write everyday. Write when you don’t want to write. Write when you have nothing to say. Just create something with your thoughts and words. Write.       But damn! That is exhausting. Hemingway and Macklemore, two creators of the written word that have transformed generations of people, to...

What's wrong with me?

  I have been in a negative mood for the last two days, and I can't seem to figure out why. I think I might have an idea though. Yesterday, I was contacted by every boy I have ever dated. Okay, not that it has been more than 2, but still. First, a little after midnight I was messaged by the ex. It was a response to a text (response) I had sent him 5 days previously. Then, yesterday, I was contacted by Z, the other one about a concert that he was inviting me to.   Now, I have been in contact with these men in the past; it is nothing new. But, I wonder if being in contact with them has caused me subconsciously to alter my mood. I wonder if, even though I haven't had too much outward negative response to them, if in someway it has affected me. What else could it be? I am not menstruating, and I am not ovulating. I did recently quit smoking, but it was over a week ago, and the cravings are few and pretty far between.    The sad part...is that it isn't these men wh...