7 Years

I was just reminded that I have had this blog for seven years.   Seven years of rants.  Seven years of poetry.  Seven years of channeling my depression online.  And I used to be good at it.  I remember when I was in college, sometimes I would get so creative I would post twice a week.  There were times when I’d try not to post every day.  Now I can barely post once a month.

And I’ve been thinking.  On and off for a while, I’ve been thinking.  What if I just closed it down?  Is seven years long enough?  For a long time this blog was my identity.  I put my heart and soul into.  Which is why my lack of creativity depresses me so much, I think.  But maybe it’s time to rip the bandaid off?  Is anyone even paying attention anymore?  Because I for sure have nothing to say anymore.

Last April I moved into a townhouse.  I thought moving here might give me the creative head space I need, but instead I feel like I might have even less creative space.  I’ve forgotten how to act on my ideas, because I still have those.  I have hundreds of photos on a memory card in a camera that I bought because I thought I was going to get back into photography.  Instead, they sit there unedited, when I used to love editing and sharing photos.

I spend a lot of time wondering who I even am anymore.  I start school next month, and I’m excited for it, but what happened to being a writer?  What happened to being a poet?  What happened to having big dreams?  Did I get lost somewhere along the way?  I want to try.  So badly, I want to try.  But giving it all up seems to much easier.

My decisions are pending.  But this could be coming close to a goodbye.

New Year

Wash over me
Waves come crashing, rains come falling down
New waters, refreshing
Drought is ending

The thirsty can drink
No need to thirst anymore
Be renewed in this
Be revived in this

Spring up oh well
Can you feel it?
In your heart, you’re overflowing
What you thought was dry is drenched

Can you see death in the land around you?
Because all I see is teaming with green
This land is alive, well, and free
It has not let you down yet

Welcome to a new year
A new life
Be refreshed
This drought is ending

Blogging Everyday in July|Is it Hopeless to be Romantic?

Someone asked me to blog about what it means to be a hopeless romantic.  Or maybe what I think the definition is.  Which is possibly one of those things that I can’t quite grasp, so I looked it up.  Google is telling me that a “hopeless romantic” is someone who loves love.  Someone who believes in happy endings.  Someone who wants a fairy tale.  Someone who won’t give up.  This makes me wonder, am I one?

I love love stories.  I love when my friends find their person.  It would be nice to have a person.  But currently, I’m enjoying discovering myself.  I don’t think I’m hopelessly romantic.  I don’t expect anyone to go over the top to chase me down or woo me over.  Life is not like the movies.  But whenever I get to hear a crazy story about something someone has done for the person they love, it makes me glad I’m alive.  Because I want a story.  I want an adventure.  But I want more than that.

Grand gestures probably exist.  But I think they’re rare in this day and age because people are so afraid of getting let down.  Most people spend so much time in the beginning of their relationship unsure if they’re actually in a relationship that they’re afraid to be romantic at all.  And I can’t think of anyone actually following through on anything romantic involving me.  That doesn’t mean that it’s something that belongs only in the movies though.

I think that by defining something as hopeless, we make it unreal.  We make it something that people are afraid to be a part of.  Why do a grand gesture to show how much someone means to you, how much you want to be with someone, if it’s hopeless?  Romance is not hopeless; at least it shouldn’t be.  It should just be romantic.

So maybe hopeless romantics don’t exist.  Because they’re all still hopeful.  Hopeful that the world will be a better place.  Hopeful that someone will love them back.  Hoping for a happy ending; or even better, no ending at all.

Torrential Downpour

I was caught in a torrential downpour
Though only for a moment
Now understanding
This calm after the storm

Nothing has ended
In this new beginning
The rain has made this all new
Bask in this
Be refreshed
If only for a moment

Drink it all in
Drown in it
Because you are not drowning
Take this and swim in it

Found myself caught in a torrential downpour
Thought I was stuck in this moment
Thought I’d left my blue skies behind me
I am calm here
In this storm

Song

There is a song in my soul
Singing to me
Pushing me forward
Telling me I can’t let go

Even in all this confusion
As my thoughts are swirling around me
I hear it
Calling my name

I’ll cross an inevitable ending off my list
Because this story is only starting
It will not be finished soon
I’ll take another step forward

Holding on with every bit of strength
I will not fall
That does not sit well with me
Give me another adventure

I am dancing to the beat
Of my own drum
Humming to the tune
Of a new song

You can sing along
With me
If you so desire
Just listen

We can follow along together
Swaying with this melody
No need to go on alone
We can make our own adventure

A Season of Endings

I think I may have found myself in a season of endings.  And I think I’ve been here a while.  School, friendships, relationships, jobs… should I go on?

It’s been a year since I graduated college.  College ended.  I moved on.  My first two post-college jobs have ended.  And nothing is what I thought it would be.

I have several friends that I’ve had since high school that I thought were really important, and that they wanted to be close to me, and I’ve since realized that that was not the case.  I cared a lot for them, and it’s possible that they did still care for me, but I don’t have the energy to always be the pursuer anymore, and so they ended.  I’ve moved on.
However, moving back to the area I grew up in has left me feeling a little more than lonely.  I’ve heard it’s because this town is one that individuals move to, and they’re all lonely, but they just take that as how life is, so they’ve accepted it. I don’t want to accept it. But I also don’t want to be chasing a bunch of friendships that aren’t going to last, that aren’t going to be meaningful.  And I don’t want to drink all the time.  Living in a resort town, either you go out all the time and get drunk, or you rarely go out at all.  I’m the latter.  And I’ve accepted it.
So I think my time here will be coming to an end soon.

It’s been four years since my last real relationship.  And that relationship was my longest.  And I didn’t leave that relationship with my heart broken, because I was the ender.  I’d always been the ender.  And I wanted to believe that that was still true, but it’s really not.   I spent the rest of my college years having no one wanting to date me at all, with the exception of a guy from my hometown who would pursue me for a month or so, break my heart, and after time went by we would go through it all again.  The last semester of my senior year of college I got set up with a guy who I ended up really liking.  And I thought he really liked me until he stood me up and disappeared from my life a month later.
I try so hard to guard my heart, and every time I let my guard down, it was the wrong decision.  Since I’ve moved to Mammoth, I’ve had my heart broken twice, but I’ve never hurt as bad as this last time.  And I’m thinking it’s because I didn’t see it coming.  He was actually a nice guy.  He made me believe that he would be here, that we were friends, that we were more than that, even though neither of us wanted to accept it.  Then he moved, so suddenly.  And he said he’d stay in touch, but apparently that was too much, and thus, it has ended.  It’s things like these that make me believe I’m not good enough.

When I was still planning on moving to Portland, the person who offered to rent me a room pulled the opportunity away from me before I could even run with it.  That relationship ended.
I’ve had people offer to help me record, or ask me to do some music for them, and then they’ve disappeared.  Relationships ended.
I had friends here that got hurt at me because I told them that I had been hurt in the past by something they had done, but that it wasn’t a big enough offense to make a big deal out of.  And then instead of them apologizing, they decided that I was the offender and that I was horrible and hurtful, and they moved on bad terms.  Relationship ended.

So am I so horrible and hurtful?  It seems that I have been severing ties left and right, whether it was my choice or not.  But I think I’d like this season of endings to end.  I want a season of beginnings.

I want to move somewhere where I belong.  I want to fall in love for real, for who I am, for who I want to be.  I want to be appreciated, and I want to be aware of it.  I want to write and to do what I love.  I want to believe that I can make it on my own.  I don’t want to be broken anymore.  I don’t want to get my heart broken anymore.  But I want to accept that it has been before.  I want to be the person who comes into town and people actually want to see, instead of making up excuses why they’re too busy.  I want to be free.

It’s time to begin again.