Friday 30 December 2011

It's Complicated.

There are a few things you told me that keep spinning in my head.

Some words hit me with tidal wave force and searing pain, leaving me breathless on impact. Wounds reopened, tender at the touch.

And others, said in whisper, remain as such. A quiet voice, coming in-and-out with each breath. I listen through the silence, and hear them play their soft and subtle tune, and wonder at their meaning. These leave a wound of their own; though I know not intended. I suspect you have yet to guess their weight.
I'm broken in half now, and I know there's something beautiful about that. That incomprehensible beauty that comes with being completely torn down: the rawness. Vulnerability. But the feelings hold no glamour, as artistic as the fallen human paints itself. There is no glory in this state of living, only the alluring idea of authenticity that accompanies the shattered soul. And that is not who I am.

Oh, my heart hurts something fierce these days.

{Photo via: We Heart It}

Monday 19 December 2011


Please don't see how broken I've become:
The way the words and lies have made me numb.

Please promise you won't look as closely as before.
You need not know me anymore.

[Yours always,]

{Photo via: Favim}

Thursday 15 December 2011

Still turning.

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends 
Not with a bang but a whimper.

{Photo via: Image Fave}

Monday 12 December 2011

The night when joy began -

I know it flawlessly
Every detail stitched with precision
Upon this mind, that longs to lose it;
That longs to leave it buried
With the rest of untold stories.
I know you won't, but I remember
That small moment - not quite asleep,
When you pulled me closer
Holding me just nearer than what made sense
Oh but somehow, this heart settled.

I breathed in that moment
Knowing it would soon be lost.

Back then, I scarcely recognized it for what it was:
The beginning and the end of me.


Saturday 10 December 2011

Parting Speech.

This is the end. We're over now.
Don't blame it on the girl I once was,
Because her promises were real --

For that part of me will always love that part of you.
Trapped in a time and place so far from where we're standing;
Buried in a history no one can take away,
And none can remake.

No. Blame it on the constant turning of the earth,
and the way my hand fits into another's.
Blame it on the freshly fallen snow,
And the human need
To be loved.


Friday 9 December 2011

So much to never say.

Your silence creates a loneliness inside of me that echoes. Deep and empty.
You really left me hanging, this time around. 

When it comes, I must die a bitter old woman - or sooner, a cynical young soul.
They can write books about the one who never loved. 
That's what they were told. 
I think I need to find some daylight - 
Before I fade. 

{Photo by: Flickr Mischelle

Tuesday 6 December 2011

In the end you'll see...

Close your eyes, replay these days...
A summer down, a summer spent.
Chasing words you never meant,
Or did you?

You never told me that you loved me,
But you held me so close, so close.

{Photo via: We Heart It}

Monday 5 December 2011

Choose Love.

In light of this situation, in light of this life, I think it best that we stop and recall the words of Martin Luther King Jr.:

The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral,
begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy.
Instead of diminishing evil, it multiplies it.
Through violence you may murder the liar,
but you cannot murder the lie, nor establish the truth.
Through violence you may murder the hater,
but you do not murder hate.
In fact, violence merely increases hate.
So it goes:
Returning violence for violence multiplies violence,
adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars.
Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that.
Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.

I see no good in wishing ill on someone, for that only traps us in our own cycle of hate and darkness. Remember that light and love are the only weapons we have to drive out the blackness that surrounds us; and indeed, that is what we should long for.

Choose love, dear friends, above hate or bitterness or anger. Choose it so that it can become part of your character. Choose it when you are wronged, and when it it the furthest from instinct. Choose it, because it is our only hope now: it is our doorway to forgiveness, and through that door we will find freedom and joy renewed.

I am sorry for everything that has happened; but remember that more pain will neither reverse nor erase the pain already felt. Remember that you have a choice, and then choose love.


Sunday 4 December 2011


This is a lot more difficult than I imagined it being; though I did imagine this day.

I've always wanted the best for you. But I couldn't let go of the hope that that meant me.

But it's not. It doesn't.
And in logic I knew that, I wished for that. But it's the accepting it - the seeing it in action - that lends to the trouble in my heart.

Don't get me wrong, because I am happy for you; really. I remember, once, thinking up what you needed; and it's what you have now. Yes, I am glad for you.

It's just that my selfishness imagined hot chocolate chats, and mistletoe dances, and cookie dough food fights, and now that picture is changed. She changes things a lot.

And part of me wants that. I want your happiness. I want you to have someone who will stick around; someone who will appreciate your good cooking, that side-ways grin, your ridiculous laughter and those sarcastic comments through every season.

But another part wishes you had seen that you already had that; that somebody already did -- somebody that's wishing she wasn't so damn far from you these nights.

Congratulations on finding happiness, though.
I'll find my way too, one of these days...


Saturday 3 December 2011

The longest road.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
{Photo via: We Heart It}

Friday 2 December 2011

This Fight.

I hope you never know how this feels.

I love you bigger than that.
{Photo via: We Heart It}

Wednesday 30 November 2011

What we won't speak of.

I would write my heart upon a page, if promised that you'd never see.

But no such promise will be made, so this remains in mystery

Don't ask me; I'll only lie. 

{Photo via: We Heart It}

Sunday 27 November 2011

Everyone Is Leaving.

I could say something about the smallness and instability of life, but those words are all used up.

I don't understand why these things happen. I don't understand the significance of life. I have yet to determine why I'm here - why anyone's here - and then, all so suddenly, not.

Sometimes I see so much beauty in the day; sometimes I feel as though I'm getting a grasp on meaning and purpose.

Today is not like that. My heart hurts.


I'm losing my faith. I can feel it escaping from me with each passing breath.

I've been thinking about human life. What if all we really are is a strange combination of atoms; a brilliant number of chemical reactions; a jumble of neurons, protons and electrons. What if that's all we are and nothing more.

What if they're right and we're meaningless and finite.

I still pray for comfort.


I was so close to telling you everything. I haven't figured out if I'm thankful I didn't, or if it was the worst mistake I've made. 

Either way, it ends the same. Either way, we die: dirt and dust.
Sooner than we originally planned for, I think.


--- Sorry, the world is dark today.

Saturday 26 November 2011


I am so wrapped up in who you are.

I wonder if you even know me.

Not as well as you once did, I guess.
But perhaps not at all -- not anymore.

{Photo via: We Heart It}

Monday 21 November 2011

Time Machine.

I shouldn't have done that..

I shouldn't have gone back in time.

I remember so much now; too much. Oh, these are yesterday's feelings.


Saturday 19 November 2011

Friday 18 November 2011

Trick of the light.

I found out today that that smile isn't just for me. Not that I should have thought it so. But still.
It changes things, I think.

Maybe it gives it less power over me. Knowing that it has been used - is being used - on others. Knowing it's been weakening more knees than my own, well, perhaps it makes mine stronger.

I like to think so, anyhow.
But truth be told, I may soon forget. Oh, as soon as it's shot in my direction again, I imagine.

For I am a stupid girl. Oh, so very stupid. And I forget what a cynic I am. I forget that I've given up on love, and on true, honest men that can be devoted to one woman for the rest of their lives. I forget that words like "love" and "forever" were made up by cruel people behind books, instruments and Hollywood posters with nothing to do but inflict a cold, hard misery on real life for the sake of a best seller or a good show. I forget so much with a glance.

With a glance, I believe in faithful partners. In lasting love. In honest answers. In trust and trustworthiness. --- All fake. All blind. All made up for a story with a happy ending.

It's time I woke up. It's time I opened my eyes. It's time I said goodbye.


{Photo via: We Heart It}

Please understand.

I haven't put a word to how I feel about you yet. As far as words can go, they still haven't reached here. Not that I can find, anyway. And not in a sappy love-song kind of way. No, I'm not saying that I have some kind of love or a passion that goes deeper and further than language. Just a feeling I haven't had before.

I could try here, to write out what I know. To put the pen towards honest words; honest feelings. But you know that would open me up more than I am willing, making me just a step further out of my boundaries than I can allow.

You can - and will - read between the lines and answer for yourself; you're probably better at finding the words than me.
-- There are a handful of things that I fear in this world. The deepest of these, the ones that I think on most, are the ones surrounding relationships. Any relationship. Any closeness.

This is where I stumble. This is why I fail. And this is where you brush up to the border; sticking your foot in the door and scaring me, for I have not yet become the person I need be.

I will never be her. Not so far as I can see.

I already know what you need, and - most importantly - what you don't.

I am the latter - please understand.

{Photo via: Favim}

Tuesday 15 November 2011

Your smile and my dress.

I saw us together and had to smile at

how happy we were and

how right we weren't and

how foolish everyone was
not to see as we did.

Love and friendship are not
as far as some imagine -

no, quite a bit further still.

{Photo: We Heart It}

Saturday 12 November 2011

(Still Do)

Also, I wanted to be able to love
              And we all know how that one goes, don't we?
{Photo: We Heart It}

Wednesday 9 November 2011

Dear Boy --

Please. You must know that my world turns not without your breathing.

Please. You must know that the void you left weighs deep upon my soul.

Please. You must know that you created something with just that clever smile.

Please. You must know
that I loved you more than I pretended. 

Please. You must know.
Please. You must.


{Photo: Fires and Flood}

Tuesday 8 November 2011

I can feel home.

I just returned from a weekend in Boston. Boston in the fall.

I can't retell how lovely it was, only to say it was almost as breathtaking and divine and majestic as home. That, of course, was the trouble.

First there were the mountains. Snow capped and beautiful. But that's not what I was waiting for. And when finally I did see what I was after, it took away my speech. The ocean. The glorious ocean. Pulling in late at night, I could see it stretching down the beach for miles, the waves breaking with a fury, the moon as the spotlight. And I could hardly contain my excitement for what the morning would reveal.

Disappointed I was not.

Thinking on it now makes my heart long for it all again. This is the closest I've been to homesick since leaving, because this weekend has been the closest I've been to home. The closest I've been able to relate anything to the lunch hours we snuck down to the beach, or days we hiked to some bright spot, or mornings we woke early to the sunrise. Closest to the crashing waves and boat rides and sea wind.

It was the first time for one girl on this trip. Her first time ever seeing the ocean. And this struck me because I cannot imagine a life without.

A life that never stood out on a jutting rock as the water swelled up, being sprayed with sea mist as the wind blew salty hair into tangles. That never leaned over the dock trying to catch all the white jelly-fish in sight. That never ran in, on a late August night, and watched as the movements made the phosphorescence light up. That never simply sat beside, looking and wondering at everything, because the magnificent expanse could not help but provoke your mind to engage in the beauty and grandeur that lay out beyond you.  

Magic. It has always been. It will always be.


These Days.

I am a clanging cymbal.
I have not love.


{Photo via: Fave}

Friday 4 November 2011

Of Surviving The Winter.

The days are getting colder. It snowed last week and I was outside in it. Wandering around in my cardigan, staring up at the darkness and the white.

You know how I get in the cold. You know I wasn't designed for it. Yet for some reason, I chose here to be my home.

I don't know how I'm going to deal with it. It's November. It's November and I'm freezing.
You'd think I'd have run to warmth, run to the very thing I desire. I like heat best. It seems, though, that I have a perpetual problem of holding on to it, so that maybe, subconsciously, I just let it go. It would not have been my first time..

But I'm here now, and that has to be faced. So I'll tie a piece of home around my neck. I'll hang it there, as heavy as the hopes I carry with it. And I'll brave each winter night, and wait for my escape.


{Photo: Silent Sequoias}

Wednesday 2 November 2011

The Body.

The bodies fit those nights, tangled and balanced by their differences --
But soon they became awkward and unsteady.
The mouths said few words, but those were enough --
Or maybe just not.
The hands, entwined, were magnificent, they knew no bounds -- 
And then they stopped searching.
The eyes did more than see, they knew and learned from each other -- 
Now they are shut tight.
The limbs were used to build and shape and become more --
Until all they made, fell.

We were one, and now, nothing remains.
I am not so different, but you.
You have changed.


Thursday 27 October 2011

Brain Patterns.

Every now and again I think on you.

But it is only so much as a song in my head or a word on my tongue; and then it passes.

And that, I believe, is more than enough.
...Dead hearts are everywhere...

{Photo: We Heart It}

Saturday 22 October 2011

Days. Gone. By.

In the end, I think that I will like that we were sitting on the bed, talking and wondering where the time had gone.  

(So let's go back.)

{Photo: Gatopalomas Flickr}

Thursday 20 October 2011


Last week for the first time, I breathed love in for this place.
I've liked it before now. Definitely. But last week, as I was walking along minding my own cares, I looked around and saw - really saw - the clear blue sky, the colors of the season, the trees leaning with the breeze, and I could hear the mower cut the grass and smell the fall surrounding me.

I inhaled deeply, and in doing so, I was filled with a love and a growing passion for this place: home. It can't compete with where I'm from, not even a little. But it can be the apple to the orange. Competitions are only necessary if one need win. But if one only need love, then this is good, I have found my place. This is where I am supposed to be.

And I'm falling in love.


Monday 17 October 2011

There Is An End.

There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave: you were what I wanted, I gave what I gave. I'm not sorry I met you, I'm not sorry it's over, I'm not sorry there's nothing to save.
Live through this and you won't look back...

* I'm obsessed with
Stars these days.

{Photo: We Heart It}

Saturday 15 October 2011

Friday 14 October 2011

The sounds of loneliness.

It's taking my breath away, the way a song can flood my mind with the past. I'm really drowning. Drowning in the long - frequent - drives, in the late nights spent with you, in all the things that I forgot to say racing through my mind.

I forgot this loneliness, but it's a not a feeling I despise. Instead I let it crawl back to me in its old familiar way. It comes to hold my hand through the cold, grey months. It latches onto my heart and grabs a hold of my mind (again). There is something odd about this feeling - something addicting about the ache it creates in me. I remember it all.
And I welcome it back. Maybe I ought not wish its return, but there is that something about it. That familiarity that I accidentally long for. Maybe I'd rather - sometimes - fall back and drown in an aching comfort than march forward and upward and past it all.

But it sounds ridiculous like that, no? Unambitious, perhaps? Very well, I am stupid and lazy. But it may be said, clearly and soundly, that some of my most fond memories were in that time. They were in the car rides by myself, in the late night visits that ended too late and too soon, in facing some battles by myself, and in the music that surrounded me all the while. So today I reach for that old friend - the dull ache that kept me company when my heart was beyond the reach of human touch. I let it take me again, to a place where I felt many things, and nothing at all.


Tuesday 11 October 2011


I want to think again of dangerous and noble things. I want to be light and frolicsome. I want to be improbable and beautiful and afraid of nothing, as though I had wings.

Something about the words of Mary Oliver make me want to run and experience life before another moment is lost..


{Photo: We Heart It}

Monday 10 October 2011

What I Haven't Told You Yet.

You know, I don't like how transparent I am.

The way you know me better than I thought you could; better than I thought anyone could.

And I don't know how you do it. How you see me, and see through me. How you've picked up on the details. (How you'll know, word for word, what I'm talking about here.)
And part of me - a large part - can't stand it. It worries me and makes me feel unsafe, unsheltered. Like I am standing on a spit of sand in the middle of the ocean, at the mercy of the waves and wind and rain that are crashing and howling and beating in around me. Like I am about to be carried away into the deep and unforgiving sea of vulnerability. I don't like that.

But another part of me - and this part is very small - is getting used to the thought. Is considering jumping into the frigid and wild and overwhelming waters and seeing if I don't quite drown.

You make me nervous, I'm sure you know. You know everything, and everyday I am reminded of how little I know. I know nothing.

And we are so very far apart.

{Photo: Theo Gosselin}

Wednesday 5 October 2011

This Heart's A Mess.

My tongue is quick to lie, I'm finding. It surprises me a little to note how many times I'll have some fiction at the ready, how I'm prepared at any moment to tell something less than true.

Sometimes it's a half-lie, bordered in truth; some glimmer of fact peppered throughout. And often, not. Just a full out invention. Void of all honesty.

I'm realizing this, and I'm trying now - now that I know - to right myself. To slow down the quickly constructed replies and ask myself: why not the truth?

What are you hiding from? And what will be the consequence if it were brought to light, rather than stuffed
                                                                              down inside of me ?
                            [Why all this hiding?]

So the answer is yes. That's what I meant to say to you. That was the proper - true - reply, but instead you got something else, something less than you deserved. Something I wish I could believe. But you were right, and that unnerved me. 

Monday 3 October 2011

You're Not Here.

And still, that face.
It's there when I close my eyes. 
Calming and alarming all at once.
But let's both remember what you said. There is nothing for us.


{Photo: We Heart It}

Saturday 1 October 2011

I Won't Forget Those Days.

Some memories stay burned in my brain. As though they were etched there by some eternal scribe.

Some questions still linger in my mind. Questions of possibility, and timing.

Some bitterness I still hold on to - can't let go of - and I can feel it painting those parts of my heart the darker shades of grey.

Grey is such a lonely color.

Beautiful, but oh so lonely.


Thursday 29 September 2011

I Can't Believe In Me Anymore.

You say that I choose sadness, that it never once has chosen me.
Maybe you're right.

Wednesday 28 September 2011

I'm Sorry, Too.

My mom sent me a letter today - among other things. A whole package, really.

It was all unexpected. The package that she sent - but the even more so - the words she sent it with, all caught me off guard.

She wrote me things that I had thought to myself in the deepest corners of my mind and heart many times, but was so sure that this woman - this stranger in my home - never could quite get.

My family, without my brother..
In reading her letter, a sadness washed over me, that came with the realization that she understood in her own strange way. That she had been fighting to make the words work and come out, and I had never seen that.

A sadness at the opportunities never acknowlegded.

A sadness that we left each other without even knowing who the other was.

And I'm sitting here now, enjoying the hell out of the dried mangoes she sent along, and wondering if we could have been close. If it was ever in our cards to be friends, and somehow we both passed it by..

Her letter to me: more than anything, was an apology letter.  Admitting that she didn't know always, the best way to raise me. That as she watched me grow she wished she had gone about the whole parenthood thing differently. She told me of her regrets.

It was healing for me to read her words.

I love my mom, I always have. Our home was not a bad place. Not even a little. It was a peaceful place. No, we did not have struggles that you could look at, hear or touch -- just a disconnect. It was not a place where we could share our joys and sorrows openly. I didn't try to keep secrets from her, but many times it seemed like she just didn't want to know. She never expressed an interest in really knowing my life - always skirting over the big stuff.

I am not like my mother, in more ways than I can count. But today I found out that we do have similarities. More than I could have guessed. That heals me.


Saturday 24 September 2011

Come, my love, we have oceans to sail.

I hope my life is made up of real adventures. I think that being bored is a terrible tragedy in this world that is so beautiful and so full. It shouldn't be wasted.


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Sunday 18 September 2011


In those days, we finally chose to walk like giants and hold the world in arms grown strong with love. And there may be many things we forget in the days to come,
But this will not be one of them.

{Photo: Raised By Pirates}

Saturday 17 September 2011

Don't Read This.

My hands are cold today. I can't shake that.

Do you know, today, I put on that old shirt and that scarf. Something I wore, one day, with you. You wouldn't remember. But this morning, I thought of that day. I got dressed to that day.

It's not important, I don't think. The details. But sometimes, somehow, they become bigger then they were. Magnified through time and seperation and imagination.

You know, it's funny how it always comes back to you. Even - especially - when I don't want it to.

I never did want it to.

But I think there were moments when I knew it would.

If I'm lucky, you'll never see this. You'll never know this.

(But you know I'm rarely lucky, and I'm always, always cold.)


Thursday 8 September 2011

When We Are Together Again

We will devour raspberry rooibos tea infused dark chocolate. Lying on a bed - because that is where it tastes the best.

We will sing loudly to songs - you'll sing well and I'll sing off-key, as I always do, but I'll probably be louder. And I'll be dancing around like a lunatic, please join.

We'll take pictures. Oh you know we will. But we can't be blamed. It's in our bones.. So look your best.

I will go through your iTunes, trying to fix all the mistakes - and there will be too many to deal with, of course. You really should stay on top of that.

We will spend the time in the sun - I pray there will be sun - because the Lord knows we need it.

We will talk wistfully, angrily, softly, jokingly, with terror and excitement. About life and death; growing and learning; travels and work; friendships and fall-outs; the past and the future.

And about boys. How stupid they are and how stupid we are for bothering. And how they tend to have to do with all of the things we will converse about. And we will vow to forget them, but we never will, so we'll talk about them more.

Oh, and you will tell me your cute stories - I know you have them.

And I'll tell you how I'm a fool. How I'm still a fool - but how I'm enjoying it now, how I'm enjoying life.

And we'll squeel about the future. How it's coming towards us at hyper speed, and how somehow it is already upon us. How our time is slipping away, so we must hold on, and soak it in, and love it, and remember it for what it is - short.

We'll talk about the transition from high school to university life. How we think we've changed in only a few small months.

When we are together again it will be like not a minute has passed since we saw each other last.

{And for the record, you're great at  conversing, you're funny and witty and clever, so don't you worry about that. And smile. Start with that. That's what I've found. Don't be afraid to overhear conversations and jump in. Don't be afraid to ask for directions. To ask if you can sit down with someone. Everyone is looking for someone to show a little kindness and not the averse treatment of someone living in fear.}

Miss you pretty lady. You're going to do amazing things, you know.


ps. Quebec is nice.

Monday 29 August 2011

When You Feel Just Like A Tourist.

Do you know, I'm moving out in three days. Three small days.

Not just houses, either. No. I'm jumping straight over four provinces to get to the right one. Or, I hope it's the right one, that it's where I'm supposed to be at this point in life.

Truth is, I don't know what I'm doing. It all seems a little silly. Like some joke that just got taken too far. It's terrifying and I question myself, and wonder what a fool I am.

But exciting. Oh it's exciting.

And I've been having such a time exploring this area that I live, as a desperate measure, to see all I can before I can't. I just got back from a two day kayak trip with my best friend. We spent the time hitchhiking around, meeting locals, eating crepes, going to the Saturday Market, visiting her family. And then tenting on a little island, one of the little spits of land that you could walk around in five minutes flat. Our own private island for the night.

When it's time to leave, you know it, because everything and everyone becomes so much more real - and yet, unreal in a sense. You want to touch and see and feel everything because you know soon, oh too soon, it will all just be memory. And I'm trying to leave with the best ones possible.
And I'm succeeding, if time wouldn't keep hurrying me along.

Three days. Three more days.


Wednesday 24 August 2011

Change Of Plans.

She supposed she would just live and live
doing all she meant to do
hoping that someone or something would be worth it,
would make her want to stop
and change what she always meant to do
into what she was always meant to do

Afraid - oh more than heights and dark corners and answering machines,
afraid that she will reach the end of her days
never finding what was always there for her to find
afraid nothing will come along to rearrange her
and make her glorious


{Photo: Tec Petaja}

Sunday 7 August 2011

Exist or Live?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

Thursday 28 July 2011

To Be Torn

I am learning a lesson. A lesson of heart ties and longing. And it is preparing me, I think, for the future. For a couple months from now - or is it just one? Where has the time gone?

Being a camp counsellor this summer on an island that is 3 long ferry rides from home is teaching me - slowly, painfully - that once I cross over into the great unknown that, right now, is named Quebec, I will always be looking back in some sense - longing for those friendships and moments and familiarities. But not always to home. Because when I am home, I will feel that same longing and wishing and wondering about my new home. I will always long for the other. Not that my heart will divide in two, but instead, a new heart will grow for that place and those people, and no matter where I go, something or someone will inevitably be missing.

This is what I am learning on the little island where I'm spending half my summer. It is a scary lesson. It frightens me because I can feel it already. Even after only spending two weeks there. Two weeks at camp, verses a lifetime at home; and yet my heart is already torn, filled with longing for the other when the other's not around.

How will my heart hold if it is strained this way for the rest of my life? How can anyone stand the longing?

{And yet, I can't wait! Every day I grow more and more restless to get started on this new time in my life! I only hope I am ready - as ready as I can be.}


Sunday 24 July 2011

Regarding Boys..

I don't know and I won't ever.

But I do know now is not the time to let my heart go wandering.

No, no, no.


Monday 18 July 2011

Grow Old With Me

They came to sit and dangle their feet off the edge of the world, and after awhile they forgot everything but the good and true things they would do someday.

Tuesday 12 July 2011

For Victor

A boy my age, from my town, died on Thursday. I never knew him; many of my friends did.

Fresh out of high school - so much life in him. Dreams. People that loved him. People that wanted to see him go as far in life as they knew he could. He could.

He won't.

I was - and am - struggling with this. Struggling with God. All of the why's flood into my mind. This was a talented boy, a nice boy. Someone with a good heart, a good family, and good goals. Gone.

It was a car accident that did it. No one else was involved - and I suppose that is something to be thankful for. He went off the road, hitting a tree, and wasn't found for hours. Hours. I wonder if he had been found sooner, if there would have been hope for him. I wonder many things. Who he would have known, where he would have lived, what he would have done with his life. And I don't know, and I won't.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't angry with God about this. Furious.

Why is it fine to save some lives, and then allow others to perish. Why does He get to be so chosey - and why do His choices suck in my eyes?

I am struggling.

I will not say rest in peace Victor. For I hope he does not. That is - I hope he is peaceful. But resting? No. I hope and trust that he is dancing with the angels, and standing in the presence of our God, with no need to rest anymore.

For even though it is a tragedy, it is a tragedy for us. Our loss. We're the ones wishing he could live out all of his dreams, and bring all the joy he could have brought into the world. Him? I am sure he would pick his current position over ours ten times out of ten, despite his earthly goals.

But I pray strength, peace, and acceptance for his family and friends. As well, for my own friends and family. That I would not take my moments with them for granted, because life is shorter than we think, and they deserve my love.


Thursday 7 July 2011

Remind Me Again Why I'm Leaving..

The beautiful quarry. The best days are usually spent here. 
One of my best friends, Jemmy, and I. We're really tanned.
Darbi.. one of my best friends since Kindergarten. She is an angel.
Hailey (Diary Of A Mood Ring Girl), being an absolute babe.
Sunset on the lake.

I live in the most beautiful place on Earth. With the most lovely friends.
These are the summer days that I look forward to all year.
The quarry in the afternoon, evenings on the lake, and amazing people to share it with.

Why, why, why do I want to leave here?

That being said, I am extremely excited for the fall and the
new chapter of my life that it represents!
I'm just trying to make sure I get my fill of this place
before I step away from it all. And every time I do,
my love for it grows and grows.

Here's to more summer days as great as these ones.


Tuesday 5 July 2011

Elastic Hearts.

I just got back from a week of staff training at a camp.
It's a small camp. On a small island. With a small staff.  For a small amount of time.

Yet somehow the smallness - the closeness - of all things to all else, made it an unbelievable week, and I've come back from it feeling.. loved.
In a way that I haven't, for a very long time.

It's one thing to feel love from family - and I  have an amazing family. It's one thing to feel love from close friends you've grown up with - and let it be known that I have the best friends the universe could offer up. And it is one thing to feel loved from a boy - and I can't say I've ever truly experienced that at this point in my life, so I can't say much there.

But to feel the love from strangers that you've only known for such a small period, and to feel it so deeply.. it warms my soul - (however cheesy that may sound.) It reminds me of what it looks like when you live your life Christ centered. And it reminds me that hearts can love so big. A heart can stretch and heal and open up to new people whenever the need arises. There is no limit known.

I decided to be a camp counselor this summer on a whim. I heard about it, and just decided I'd apply. And the people that I have met there have already created such a space in my heart that I didn't know there was room for. It's funny to think about not knowing them.

Our choices impact our lives so deeply. And I can only hope that I will make more choices that will impact my life with such deep love and learning, as this one has.


PS. Matthew Barber's voice is magic.