boy and girl

It was mostly whispers in the wind, and a few brief encounters followed by time apart. And maybe that distance was making the heart grow fonder, or maybe it was something more than that. Could it be, perhaps, that two people simply found each other at the right time? But then again who's to say when timing is right or when it's wrong? We could have always met someone sooner. But sooner doesn't necessarily imply better, does it? To have met under different circumstances could mean the whole thing tumbling down. It's all well and good to wish for more time, but there's a chance more time would have been your undoing. Maybe last year's her wasn't ready for last year's him. Or maybe he wasn't what she needed at that time. Different people at different points in their lives. It's tough to say with any sort of certainty how two people will mesh when they meet. Still, the heart cannot help but ask its "what ifs?"

She looked him in the eyes & told him of past woes and love gone awry. "I wish I met you before anyone else," she said with a hint of regret and despair in her voice. And he frowned an understanding frown and replied calmly, "What's come and gone can't be undone, and it doesn't matter where you've been so long as you get where you're going. You see it's not about who you go through to get there, it's about who you end up with." He talked confidently and sincerely, his voice never much above a whisper, and she believed every word he spoke. She'd believe anything he told her; not because she needed something to believe in, but because he was worth believing in.

See, when she looked at him she saw the raw emotion. It was sculpted in his face and interwoven in his speech. She also saw a boy (or maybe young man) who truly cared about her and those she cared for, and she knew deep down that he'd do anything for her. He had told her so, but she knew well before that. Just like she knew every morning when she woke up he'd be there, smiling at her like she'd done him some big favor.

He told her it was okay to take him for granted. He always hated when people said the opposite. It was as if love was supposed to be used as a threat. Like, "Don't take me for granted or else..." And to that he posed the question, "Or else what?" Love, to him, was about giving and taking and the possibility of reciprocation. However, he never thought of love as a "one for one" type deal. If he did something for her, be it big or small, he didn't expect immediate compensation or any compensation for that matter. See, two people's love tends to balance out. It has a way of leveling the playing field & making sure both people get what they need when they need it most.

And what she didn't quite get, not yet at least, was that all he wanted and needed was the same reassurance the sun gave the day. You know, the day ends and the sun sets, but there's an unspoken agreement, a universal truth of sorts, that says the sun will be back tomorrow. It never once gives up on the day or forgets about it. In fact, the sun gives the day its meaning, and to him, she brought his life a worthwhile explanation of why he was doing what he was doing.

And anytime that she looked at him chances are that he was already looking at her. He did so every chance he got because to him, her eyes were a mirror that showed him a better version of himself. They showed him a future he could bear. They were understanding eyes that had watched too many forgettable people come and go. And even when her glassy, green, truth telling eyes weren't open she was still something stunning to be seen. (That's why he decided not to deny himself the guilty pleasure of staring from time to time.)

I guess you could say that when he looked at her, next to him, he began to believe, for the first time in his life, that maybe everything does happen for a reason.

I don't know where these thoughts and little stories come from. They're a mish-mash of thoughts from here and actual conversation there. To a certain degree they're all a part of me. The people in them are meant to represent real people, but could be anyone you want them to be. It could be you, it could be me, it could be my mom and dad. The choice is yours really. I guess sometimes I get tired of just giving my opinion of "love" or "dating" or "people" and I throw together these little bits. Hopefully it didn't bore you too much.

Til next time.
(And seriously, if you don't get anything else out of this blog, at least listen to the NP. Incredible song.)

NP: All I Want- Kodaline

family, changing plans, & the past

This blog is made up of 3 parts that don't really go together at all. They're just things I've thought about recently. Maybe some of it will translate well enough to make sense to you all. If not, so be it.

Family

Another Hilton Head family vacation has some and gone, and I can only hope that it isn't the last year I get to go down. I remember throughout middle school and high school I dreaded the thought of Hilton Head without my cousins. I knew that as they grew up they'd take on responsibilities that made them unable to come on vacation. Sadly it seems I've now reached the age where summers are spent working instead of playing. It's a natural progression, I realize, but it still makes me a little sad knowing that I'll potentially be missing out on family time.

See as much as family time can become overwhelming I'll never complain about it. And even though two weeks in Hilton Head can bring out all of our family's insecurities and dysfunction it also manages to bring out the best in us. When we're on vacation there is always at least one meltdown on the schedule. The magnitude of the meltdown and who is going to meltdown is always a roll of the dice, but it's guaranteed that someone will.

Honestly though, everybody's family is dysfunctional. If you think otherwise you're crazy. Some families are better than others at hiding it, but deep down everyone has a certain level of insanity in their family.

I think I cherish every vacation so much because one day Pap and Joyce won't be around to vacation with. I haven't actually come to terms with that yet, but I am aware that it is something that will one day happen. (Not for a while though because they're both in great health.) Pap's the one who makes Hilton Head possible and I can't thank him enough for that. I think one of the best things about Pap is his hardheadedness when it comes to changing. He has his old "dumb phone" as he calls it, and he absolutely refuses to get a new phone. Joyce even told him she would buy him the new iPhone with a year of data last Christmas and he turned it down. He doesn't want a new phone, but he's usually willing to splurge on some new golf clubs if he needs them. (Except his putter.) Pap's funny like that I guess.

If Pap taught me one thing this trip it's that sometimes simplicity is the sweetest. You have to understand that when our family vacations there is a disturbing amount of ice cream consumed. And Pap is right up there in the consumption. He'll take us all to get ice cream & spend 50 or 60 dollars on us only to go home and make himself a sundae with Breyer's Ice Cream. He never buys himself ice cream at the various ice cream shops. He'd rather make his own at home. And I'd be lying if I didn't give him credit for making one heck of a sundae.

(Also, a note from me to you. When you're with your loved ones take as many pictures as you can. Capture these memories on film so that you can decorate your life with the people who can't always be there. A picture truly is worth a thousand words and a picture is also there to remind you of things that are no longer around. If one day you mind slips and you you no longer remember you can glance at a picture and use it as a starting point. If nothing else you can use it to build your own story of what happened.)

Changing Plans

As I grow up I find myself constantly making plans and changing them. It's not something I do on purpose, it's just that with more responsibilities come more cancelled plans. You go from having the weekend off to working 20 hours in an instant. You make plans to see a friend and have to reschedule because something just gets in the way.

We go from planning to see someone in a week to waiting a month. It often seems that the people we yearn for the most are often the hardest to get to.

But just becuase they're hard to get to doesn't mean you shouldn't try.

Every minute/hour/day that goes by we're that much closer to the end of our life. Our time here on earth is hopelessly finite and sadly some people don't realize that. They push things back and back and eventually the thing they kept delaying is no longer there. That's why we need to keep plans. And if we can't keep them we need to do our damnedest to get there as soon as possible.

Don't let a week turn into forever. Get in your car and go see the people you need to see.

Like I said... no transitions... just thoughts.

The Past

Sooo... the past. You know, the thing that's supposed to be behind us? Turns out that it's never really behind us. Or maybe it is and the real fact of the matter is that we can't change what happened or how it shaped us. For instance, I'm a slightly different person today than I was last week. And I'm a much different person today than I was three years ago. Keep in mind that "different" is relative. For the most part I am the same person, but my viewpoints, expectations, and plans for myself are all different now than they once were.

The thing about the past is that we all have one. But what does that mean when we decide to let someone new into our life?

For each person it'll be different, but for me this is what letting someone in means:

It means that you have to accept somebody for who they currently are not who they were. That entails looking beyond their past and taking them and loving them the way they are now.

It also means you have to know yourself and believe that the person you're letting in accepts you as you are. You can't pretend to be someone you aren't because the discord will be apparent and the relationship you had built of hoped to build will crumble.

Letting someone in also involves accepting and letting go of things you can't change about the past, be it your own or theirs. Chances are you won't be taking them on their first date, you won't be giving them their first kiss, and you won't be their first love. And they probably won't be yours either. But what you can do instead, if you do it right, is be their last, best whatever.

Without even realizing it you could be taking some pretty girl on her last, first date. You could kiss her goodbye like no one ever has & leave her craving another day with you. You could prove to be the best love she's ever known & the guy her parents entrust her with forever.

But none of that's possible if you're busy worrying about the people who kissed her first.

As far as I'm concerned the past is lost and the present is a gift.

Meanwhile the future is a combination of lessons from the past and best laid plans based on the present. It's always uncertain, but significantly less so when you've found something worthwhile.

That's all she ~he~ wrote.

NP: Sight of the Sun- Fun.

work work work

This whole growing up thing is tougher than it seems. Two weeks ago I worked 50+ hours between Bahama Breeze and my internship. While the two jobs are very different in nature, they're both taxing in different ways. The internship is mentally taxing and all the numbers I run everyday leave me wondering how people do this for their whole life. On the other hand Bahama Breeze is more physically taxing. It doesn't sound like much, but being on your feet for 8 or 10 hours isn't easy. (Plus the service industry often makes you question how people were raised.)

Believe me, I don't mean to complain about either of my jobs because I realize I'm fortunate enought to have two jobs in an economy where some stuggle to find one.

 I just never knew what to expect from two jobs.

Pap always tells stories about him working two jobs while he was in college. I sort of just brushed it off, thinking it couldn't be that bad, but I was dead wrong. Even if you don't feel tired while you're working the jobs it eventually catches up to you. I feel like a bum because I wake up, go to work, come home from work, and just sit around before going back to sleep and repeating the process.

I can't even imagine doing what Pap did. School, two jobs, and after a certain point he had to have time for Nan. Maybe I can say it's a generational thing. Or maybe Pap is just tougher than me. Or maybe he's tougher than me because of the generation he was born in. I like the way that sounds so I'm gonna go with that.

At the beginning of summer I thought that it was going to be my last summer to take it all in. You know hanging out with friends all the time, still living like a kid, working a few shifts as a waiter. Stuff like that. But that changed when I landed the internship. I'm not upset by it, though. I couldn't be happier with where I'm at and where I'm headed with my life.

The work week drags on, don't get me wrong, but the paychecks keep coming in and I keep getting valuable, relevant experience.

So basically, life is good. It's hectic and tiring, but it's definitely good.

I'm really excited to get back down to Oakland. I can't stress that enough. This is the first summer in a long time (probably forever) where I've been eager to get back to school.

I guess I can attribute that to all the activities I got into and the friends I made at school last year. Between the Pi and baseball and all the other people I know Oakland is more of my home now than Oakdale is. Don't get me wrong home is still home, but it's just different.

In addition to club baseball and the Pi, I've added another activity to my schedule this semester. I'll be working as a manager for the football team. It certainly won't be the most glamorous job I've ever worked, but the job has some perks that I simply can't turn down. At the very least I'm excited to see what a Division 1 football program is all about from the inside.

I'd be lying if I didn't admit I was worried about everything I have on my plate. It certainly won't be easy and down time will be a luxury, but my excitement far outweighs my concern.

At the very least I know that I have a house full of friends to come home to every night. Isn't that all you can ask for really? A group of people who make the bad days better.

Anyway. I need to get back to work. I'll write again soon because I have a ton on my mind.

NP: Scar Tissue- Red Hot Chili Peppers

been too long

I'm just now seeing that it's been a little over two weeks since I blogged last. (Inexcusable.) I've had a lot to say, but I guess I never got around to saying it.

So recently I read Mitch Albom's The Five People You Meet In Heaven and saw the movie adaptation of John Green's The Fault In Our Stars. Even though I had already read John Green's novel there was something more real about the movie. I think the movie not only did the book justice, but also made the whole thing more visible, more in your face.

The Five People You Meet In Heaven was one of the best books I've read in recent memory. I like the way Albom goes about explaining heaven. Usually when we think of heaven we think of this beautiful place in the sky that is the same for everybody. I always thought that my heaven was interchangeable with everyone else's. Mitch Albom's book changed the way I thought of heaven. Maybe heaven is a place where God resides. But who's to say that my heaven can't be my own personal construct of it? Heaven doesn't have to be somewhere up in the clouds. Maybe instead it's your favorite place on earth, only you never have to leave it. The book also, obviously, talked about five people you meet in heaven before you get to "your heaven." I won't ruin it for you because I insist you read it, but I can't help but wonder who my five would be.

Anyway, the reason I mentioned both books was because they both dealt with death and both shared a similar viewpoint of it. Both books agreed that funerals aren't for the dead, they're for the living. In TFIOS Augustus has his own little funeral for himself because he says he wanted to be at his funeral. See that's not something I'd ever want.

Funerals are definitely for the living. They're a chance for people to say one more goodbye. But I wouldn't want to be at my own funeral for a myriad of reasons.

First and foremost, funerals are filled with a bunch of different people, all of whom are varying levels of "sad." You have the people closest to you who will be absolutely destroyed by your death. Those people use your funeral as a major part of the grieving process. I have no interest in seeing them at such a vulnerable moment. Then you have people who aren't as close. Those people go through the motions of a funeral. They get dressed up, say their many versions of "Im sorry for your loss," and might even throw a prayer your way. But they aren't using the funeral as a part of the grieving process, not in the same way as those closest to you at least. Instead, they're using it as a chance to make up for lost time. They get one more chance to see you even though they couldn't find the time when you were living. The last group of people were people who really didn't know you at all. Maybe they're kids of your friends or distant relatives, dragged to the funeral home by someone close to them who was close to you. To them, you're just another body in a box, and really is that so wrong? Death is life's great equalizer. It's something we all, inevitably, will do, and we can't expect everyone to mourn our loss the same.

Another reason I wouldn't want to be at my own funeral is because of all showmanship that goes into it. Everyone gets all gussied up to come say goodbye to somebody who isn't there to see them anyway. Why do we make funerals more uncomfortable than they have to be? All the awkward silence and photo boards are enough to make a person roll over in their grave...or right there in the funeral home. I'd rather my friends stop by in shorts and a t shirt and bullshit with me like I was still there. Maybe prop me up in the corner and have a good laugh when I topple over. That probably sounds morbid to most people, but if somebody is going to cry for me I'd rather them cry because they're noticing my absence in conversation than because they see my in some box.

The last reason why I wouldn't want to be at my own funeral is because I don't care to hear what people have to say about me. I've always been sort of uncomfortable with people talking about me. Whether good or bad I really don't care to hear it. I like to think there would be some kick ass eulogies filled with funny stories, but I wouldn't want to hear it. Honestly, I wouldn't need to hear it because I would've already lived it. Those eulogies are for the people who weren't there, not for those who were. I think it'd be cool to have a Q&A at your funeral instead. Ask people questions about the dead and see how they respond. The uncertainty and inaccuracy of some answers might make people uncomfortable though. (God forbid we make people more uncomfortable than they have to be.)

So that's my spiel on funerals. Hopefully this blog wasn't taken as too dark because it wasn't meant to be. Those were just some thoughts I had on the matter.

I guess all this talk of death helps me realize how lucky I am to be alive. 

I'm lucky to be alive and to have all these opportunities ahead of me. And I'm even luckier that I'm surrounded by incredible people who are going to make the journey even more worthwhile. I guess the only thing sweeter than success is having people to share it with you. 

My life is headed wherever I want it to go, and that's a damn cool feeling.

I'll leave you with a favorite poem of mine...sadly I cannot claim it as my own. That credit goes to William Ernest Henley...

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,I thank whatever gods may beFor my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstanceI have not winced nor cried aloud.Under the bludgeonings of chanceMy head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tearsLooms but the Horror of the shade,And yet the menace of the yearsFinds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,How charged with punishments the scroll.I am the master of my fate:I am the captain of my soul. 

NP: Murder in the City- The Avett Brothers

addicted to the light

Just another nonsense poem I wrote. 

addiction flows through veins
     like the rush of a midsummer's rain
        down the river.

and addiction cuts deep
     like a knife in the heart
        or worse in the back

but some addictions aren't fueled
     by pipes and needles
        rather by the head and heart

so we love what we love
     and over time
        we let it kill us

love: life's greatest upper
     heartbreak: a fast acting depressant
        withdrawal: the absence of love and heartbreak

because in life we want to feel anything
     so sometimes pain is a nice reminder
        that we're still alive

but something this sweet
     it wasn't made for moderation
        it's an everyday kind of drug

see, your smile couldn't kill me
      or else I'm certain
         I'd have overdosed by now

so lend me your hand once more

      I promise any suffering I face

         was worth it tenfold

you see I'm addicted to your light

      the light that brings me back

         and heals me at day's end

There's Always More Ahead

Yesterday I got to watch the West A baseball team win a WPIAL Championship. That marks the third boys title I watched West A win this year. I couldn't be more happy for those kids. I truly couldn't. Somewhere deep down there's a small part of my being that envies them. It takes me back to senior year baseball and soccer where we had unfulfilled potential. It takes me back to days where high school sports meant more than anything to me.

And then, after a minute or so of reminiscing, I remember how much more there is ahead of each of those boys. Just like there was so much more ahead of me.

The truth is that one day the WPIAL Championship t-shirt will get misplaced, the ring won't fit your finger, and the gold medal will be but a memento to tell to your kids about. And you know what? You won't mind. Because the ring and medal and t-shirt will pale in comparison to the things you've accomplished and felt since.

I don't mean to take away from what the boys just did because they deserve to celebrate for as long as they'd like.

I just want to point out how much is left for them.

Like college.

I can't pretend like I've lived some crazy, illustrious college career thus far because I haven't. I'm very much just a normal college kid. But even in my normalcy I've noticed some extraordinary things college gives you.

On the academic side it gives you a chance to challenge and prove to yourself what you're capable of. College isn't as hard as everyone tell you it is, it's much harder. (So don't jag around and skip class. You're paying all that money, so you might as well go out and get a 4.0. Plus, nobody really likes kids who skip class; at first it's funny, then it's just pathetic.)

On the social side it gives you a chance to make some everlasting friendships with people from all walks of life who come from far and wide. (So go out and meet people. That one weird kid from down the hall might end up being the best man at your wedding if you bother getting to know him.)

On the athletics side it gives you a wide array of club and intramural sports to try your hand at. Whether you do a coed league where you and your friends get hammered before each game or a league where you buy team jerseys and attempt to win a title, there's nobody stopping you from playing. (So play. Also, don't be afraid to take it too seriously because coming in second in intramural soccer at a major university is a big deal. If you don't agree you obviously haven't lived it.)

On the family side of things it shows you how much family truly means. You learn to cherish the time you have with family because there are plenty of times at school when you'd do anything to see them. (So Skype your mom and text your sister. And see if your grandpa wants to grab lunch. And if you grab lunch listen to the stuff he tells you because otherwise one day you'll regret not listening.)

Last night in the car with Ty we started talking about which one of our friends would be the first to get married, and if that isn't the scariest thought in the world I'm not sure what is. (Ty said most people might place money on me, but that he wouldn't be surprised if Jared or Dave snuck in there first. He placed himself at 100 to 1 odds, but you never know what's going to happen.) It's weird thinking about being a groomsman in my friend's wedding. It's even weirder to think about picking out my best man from my group of friends. Or the weirdest thing is thinking about the girl who'll be walking down the aisle towards me.

I can't help but wonder what goes through a groom's head as he watches his bride-to-be walk down the aisle. Is it a memory of the first time they met? Is it the idea that he's going to (or at least he's supposed to) spend the rest of forever with this girl? Is it a feeling of entrapment? Is it a feeling of liberation? I guess only time will tell.

I'm not sure where this blog is going so I'll end it here. And I'll leave you with a poem I've been writing/fixing up for a long time. (If you ignore the elementary rhyming scheme it might be enjoyable.)

Unbeknownst to me you settled in,

somewhere between head and heart.

From afar I couldn't see,

that was your intention from the start.

I must admit you caught me off guard,

sent me spinning through my thoughts.

But now I'm okay,

so long as you stay in that very spot. 

Because if you leave I will wonder,

how my wandering ways led astray.

The girl who found me my own heart,

but left my life in disarray. 

So I'll hold you like I've held them before,

but know that their time has passed. 

And I'd go to the ends of the earth,

if you so much as asked.

But ask that you won't,

you'll never have to ask.

Because I won't let you go,

your company is my mask.

And I know that I'll never know, 

who looked in your eyes like I do.

All I know is the past's behind us,

and somehow we both made it through.

Sure, sometimes I'll wonder,

when your head rests on my chest.

How we got to this point together,

and how I compare to all the rest.

But I'm not scared this time like before,
something in your being reassures me.
It says it's okay if I choose to stay,
but understands if I decide to walk free.

So let's see where we end up,
see what this thing can really be.
The future's quite uncertain,
but I've got you and you've got me.

My Own Personal Complex

I think that we all have our own specific "complexes." And what I mean is that every person has some part of themselves they're uncomfortable with. We all have something we worry about as a potential shortcoming. 

The most popular complex in modern day America has to be the skinny girl complex. You know, the idea that a girl feels she needs to look like the waistless models pictured in magazines. There's no denying that people young and old worry about the way they look. If it wasn't true then we wouldn't have nearly as many kids with eating disorders and plastic surgeons would have a heck of a lot less work to do.

For me, body image isn't a worry anymore. I've come to accept this physique I've been given. I don't worry about my height or smile or anything like that. Aside from a few pounds here or there, most parts of my appearance are set in stone. And when I look in the mirror I'm content with what I see. I'm no Narcissus destined to fall in love with my own reflection, but I'm not some bridge-guarding troll either. 

For me, my complex is something much different. I'm deathly afraid of not being interesting enough. I don't look at Leonardo DiCaprio and see greatness in his looks, instead I'm intimidated by his accomplishments. It's his worldliness that frightens me. Granted, actors are a separate breed because of their lifestyles, but the underlying concept is the same. I don't want to bore someone. In this day and age boredom sets in so fast that one day you could be all the rage and the next you're just a sideshow in your own story. And if that isn't scary I don't know what is. 

The truth is this... obsolescence is scary. 

Maybe that's why we seek love, as a reassurance that we are not obsolete. 

And maybe boredom is to blame for making love seemingly so hard to find nowadays. Whether it's loving yourself or loving someone else, you never know when you're going to grow tired of the person you're trying to love. 

It should be easy: love yourself by allowing yourself to grow and mature. Read a new book, learn a new skill, find a funny joke; just do something to keep yourself guessing and keep yourself from stagnating. In my opinion the love of another person should follow. If we prevent ourselves from stagnating then we should be easy to love. Everyone always says you need to love yourself before others will love you. I don't necessarily agree with that, but it isn't a bad principle to follow. 

But it doesn't always seem so easy to love yourself or those around you, does it? 

I guess what we should be searching for in love is someone who challenges us. Someone who day in and day out makes us ask questions about the reality we've become so sure of. I think we need someone whose intelligence scares us, someone whose beauty we gawk at, someone who makes us think. If we find someone who can make us see the world from a different perspective then our life will be significantly better.

It's easy to go through life searching for people who feel the exact same way we do. Instead of doing that maybe we should find someone who tells us that our opinions are crazy. Argue with them, debate against them, compromise with them if you must, and then scare the hell out of them by loving them. You want to find someone who complements you, not someone who could be substituted for you. 

We're all searching for that one person to cling to for eternity; our partner in crime and the one who makes us feel truly alive. So go out and find that person. Do so by speaking confidently, listening intently, and laughing uncontrollably. You'll know when you've found them because they'll be the one listening to your confident words, filling your ears with their own assertive voice, and laughing uncontrollably along with you.

That's all for now. The thought well has run dry. Til next time.

NP: Lost in My Mind- The Head And The Heart