truth or dare

- truth or dare?

- truth.

i never chose dare, cause i used to have nothing to hide, so i choose truth without thinking. 

- ok. ummm. [examines my face] what are you thinking right now? [heartbeat in my ears] 

i like the sound of your voice and the way your arm is slung across the top of the car and your tired, pretty eyes, and the way you're looking at me 

- [laughs] that i'm scared of what you're gonna ask me 

you laugh and take a step back and forward and i'm waiting on cliff's edge for the next question

do you love me?

     but it never comes

     and the game goes on

boy to war

he looks like a man and a boy at the same time as he stands there in his uniform in the airport with a too big pack on his back
how can it already be time?
so many brothers, sons, lovers, and dads are being stolen away it seems like it should hurt less
but the ache is so personal and deep I wonder how the world can carry so much ache without splitting in two
it's time and I can tell he knows but he's still putting it off, vaguely hanging around
I go to give him a hug and he pauses for a second like he's surprised at how hard I hug him
oh, God, why didn't I hug him more often like I meant it?
I try to squeeze every unspoken word into that hug
I can't trust myself to speak I'm so scared of letting him see me cry, of letting him go
there's a lump in my throat the size of a baseball as he turns to walk away
"I love you" I manage to strangle out
he calls something out but I miss it in the chaos of boarding
but as he walks up the ramp he turns and waves and I catch his eye for a brief second
and my tears immediately blur the image into that of a ten year old going off to war
and I wonder at a world so dark that teenagers are sent to fight battles they don't understand and peace is only won at the cost of innocence

 

my writing recently has consisted of words I want to keep hidden in my notebooks for just me (anonymous letters with scribbles in between the margins and my heart somewhere in between the lines), so I'm gonna keep it to this- written months ago and completely inapplicable to my life right now. thanks. x

ps y'all's comments mean the world to me !!!

sometimes

sometimes I dream about the past and climbing trees and running full speed barefoot in the dark summer night feet wet with dew and coloring with crayons in my dad's old shirts and making ridiculous videos with my sister and listening to my dad's calm voice reading narnia books aloud. sometimes I miss how I never thought twice about what other people thought about me or if they even did. I dream about being too tan and having bangs and wearing my favorite tshirt and ugly shorts.

sometimes I dream about the future and being a successful journalist and having my own apartment where I decorate how I like and have my own schedule. I dream about traveling and researching and writing about things I care about in sweatpants in front a sprawling window view. I imagine life with kids and chaos and goodness and bleary eyed nights typing in front of the fire with my husband by my side.

and then sometimes I remember about the present and what I get to live right now- a weekend snowed in spent jumping across rows of hay bales topped with snow and falling backwards into drifts of snow. I remember walking on the snow watching the sun set and my nose red from the cold, the way the light reflected off of and left in shadows the white blanket over the earth. I finished a stellar novel, rewatched Les Mis, saw the new Sherlock (and died but ok), wore sweatpants everyday, started a study on 1+2+3 John and journaled for the first time in years. And I remember that this weekend I'm getting a new haircut and a new swimsuit, flying to Florida, going to the fair, going to the beach all with the friends I've missed for months (will probably get a post on this lol).

and then sometimes I can't believe that I'm living this life and that I could let the devil convince me that this isn't exactly where I'm supposed to be. it's so much more than I could ask or think. and, sometimes- man, sometimes I actually feel like the most blessed human on earth.

my dad, mostly

I laugh and feel a surge of tears behind dry eyes as he turns the music louder and the trees keep flying by and I can't help but wonder how much time is left, because any moment that is so fiercely beautiful can't last forever.
my dad is singing along to Springsteen so loud that I'm smiling too big out the window and I feel so utterly helpless for words.
but in this moment I see him afire with passion about things that matter and songs that he knows every word to and I hate that I can't just take this moment for what it is without knowing it will end and he'll be gone and I'll listen to this music and I'll remember a thousand memories like this, ingrained in my DNA, branded on my skin, that made me who I am.
I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse to think and feel this way. sometimes I think it deepens my joy and appreciation, knowing that one day it will end. sometimes, I'm so tired of feeling so deeply and I wonder if I'm too dramatic or sentimental or morbid or what. and sometimes I worry he'll never know how much I love him and how he's given me so much more than he could ever know.
what are words when it comes to stuff like this? maybe the tears blurring the lines on the pages will do. I don't know.
maybe my new years resolution will be to appreciate every moment without letting my joy be stolen or letting myself cling too closely to this world. plus, whichever one of us God decides to let go first, we get to spend eternity together, worshiping the One who loved us first, so I can say-

TAKE THIS WORLD & GIVE ME JESUS.

/ I sound really sad in this, but I swear I'm not hahahahahah /