Discover, Share, Connect
...The kid starts to bounce up and down on his bottom, his eyes wide and mouth already partly open. He thinks this is his too. When the first spoon goes to my mouth he has a slightly crestfallen look, but then starts his celebratory bounce again as the spoon goes back to the can. It comes out with a lump of chicken and he actually claps his hands, mouth now as wide as he can get it without swallowing the whole room. What can I do? In his mouth it goes and he clamps his lips around it. So that’s how it is, one for me and one for him until it’s all gone.
Acorns lie scattered on the autumnal leaves, rolling under the boots of those that flee. In another time or place the children might have stopped and made a game of throwing the smooth oak nuts at the trunks, targets marked in chalk. All that fills the air of the temperate woodland is the sound of the leaves, crunched and torn. Taryn watches from her horse, eye to her telescope...
To be strong is my choice. Strong isn't being free of fear, quite the opposite. Strong is seeing all the issues and problems with no self deception, no soft filters. It is feeling the anxiety in full measure, acknowledging the fear, and still making the right choices. It is owning your own errors and using them to make yourself a better person. It means going forwards doing your very best for others, considering the self at a lower priority. Yet at times it takes true strength to look after oneself too; if to carry on would leave a you unable to care for those you hold most dear, a change to care for the self is brave and right. We are all born to survive, to protect those we love, to be the angels of our better natures. All of this is strength. Know it. Be strong too. I believe in you.
To break me, you must show empathy. Yelling and shouting your frustrations about my lack of work, or need to shape up, won't help your cause. I'll only stand firm in my resolution to not give in to your tempestuous voice. To break me, you must show kindness. If I have a low performance on tests, "Are you okay?" instead of, "STUDY HARDER, YOU IDIOT!" will make me try harder. I want to please those who care. I want those who love me to see me do well. If you love me, and outwardly show it, you will break me.
When I wake up, I bet I heard my mom yelling at me for sleeping in. But then the reality takes over my dreams. Mom's not here. The reality hits like a stab in the stomach. All I can do is take it in.
My roommate greets me with a grin in the kitchen. Some Spanish show is blaring on the TV. My dishes are still in the sink. Those have been there for so long because no one has told me to do the dishes. I sigh turning on the faucet. Growing up is all about responsibilities.
It's not doing your dishes because you'll lose your access to wifi for an entire day otherwise. It's doing it because you won't have anything to eat from otherwise.
Waking up early is not about pleasing your mother and giving her a reason to let you go out. It's about running errands that your life literally depends on.
Curfews are not for your parents to stop worrying about your safety, but you worrying about yours.
Having a job is not about saving money, it's about spending it.
I curse myself for choosing to grow up so fast all the while doing my grown up responsibilities.
"Oh, I'm going out to the party tonight. You coming?" My roommate shouts to make herself audible over the noise from the TV.
"Heck, yeah," I say.
Did I mention growing up is having fun and being free?
Blind from birth, the spring was all about the sounds, the tastes and the rising air temperature for Mila. With keen awareness of the frigidity of winter rain, she knew before her keen sighted friends when the winter season was in transition. She felt the breeze kiss her more warmly and let her hands explore the overhanging branches of neighbourhood trees to find the swelling buds- buds that would soon crack open to release the soft papery leaves within.The myriad of verdant hues from the grass to the leaves above were lost to her; but their gentle fragrance never was. She would take a new lush blade or leaf and rub it between her fingers, releasing its perfume. She knew the flowers of her neighbourhood by their scents, either that which they released to the damp air or by crushing a petal to release the aromatic sap. She knew the call of each bird species and marked the progress of the season with their song.
"Melody, you're such a middle child - I mean that as a compliment. You're like a chemical buffer, staying in equilibrium seemingly without effort. In all the storms of life, big and small, you show absolute stability, no change at all for the casual observer. But then all at once you're overwhelmed and the shutters come down. I love the way you are; I just have to take extra special care that you stay in the range you can cope with. I wish you'd ask for help more often, makes it easier to care for you."
I try so damn hard for you to love me as much as you love yourself, but finally I've realized that I don't love you. I just love the idea of you and the thought of something good in a sea of something terrible. I love you so much, no, the idea of you, that I shove everything wrong with me, all my problems and flaws, everything I carry, deep in my pockets, just to be enough, and hope that I am good, and maybe you are good too. But I have to remind myself that's just a fantasy. Then I'm finally free, because I know that nothing will never be enough for you, under everything you are sad, and you cannot see anything that isn't you. You're selfish that way and I no longer blame myself for every time I wasn't good enough for you; I wasn't perfect enough, happy enough, every time I didn't praise you, or love you like stars love the moon. Now I am not yours anymore, you have lost me and, I swear, being lost has never felt so good.
Fire and You.
Fire is the most beautiful weapon of them all. It shines with all its glory; maybe that's why I'm so attracted to it? The warmth along with the welcoming feel it gives but as you slowly approach it snarls and bites. Everything you love could be gone in minutes, due to a single nip. That's why you're like fire. So warm, so beautiful, so welcoming. The human embodiment of fire. I turned my gaze for a minute and everything I loved was gone. All I loved. You.