parties

Yesterday I went to my first and last college party. I am not in college(in a normal sort of way, anyway), nor would I ever formally be invited to something like that. we were there dropping off someone who lives there. There was a boy there who I had a crush on, in which the fruition of this has now become a personal mission, not a mission in pursuing him, but a mission to help him in whom he is pursuing! He is crushing on a co-worker of mine, and I hope to make it my personal mission to get them together. it feels good. it feels good to help others in their love life. I do not want a love life of my own right now. That is not a language I currently want to be speaking right now.

Last night, before the random college party visit, I was able to go to this chic's cd release party. I had such a fun time hanging out with friends. I sometimes found it hard to sit still because I enjoy dancing in my seat so much. I pretty much enjoy dancing any chance I get. I have that annoying habit of dancing around whenever I might here music...in the grocery store, in line at the post office. My mom, would always nudge me and tell me to stand still. Five minutes later, I'd be at it again. I guess some things never change...

back and forth

Today I keep going back and forth between two extremes--hope and apathy.

Today I am sorrowful for a friend of mine who is having to say goodbye to a faithful pet, and having to say goodbye to an unfaithful love.

Today I am overjoyed for friend of mine who is having a whirlwind of a romance, possibly debating if this person is ‘the one’.

Today I am admiring another friend of mine who is having to make a bold move and walk away from a relationship prospect, a promising one at that.

And as I remember my own experiences with love lost this past year or so, I still find myself hopeful. How can that be, I ask. And then, I crush the hopefulness in my hand, and reach out for the cynicism that proves to be a welcome guest in my home these days. I cannot trust hope. I cannot trust myself with hope.

There is this guy who plays songs on a keyboard making a statement of risking a chance at something, a love so thick, so real, so passionate you can taste it. At this point in my life, the risk is not worth it.

There are people all over the globe who are making the choice-saying yes, walking away, and deciding if the risk is worth taking.

I am not sure if the risk will ever again be worth taking for me. To let someone in so close that you can literally taste the experience is too dangerous.

I think I will continue to push down the hope so far down that it is unrecognizable to me. I am sure some psychologist somewhere would call this self-preservation. I cannot disagree. This is all a part of my survival. I am good at surviving.

Now, don’t get me wrong…I still know how to be hopeful for those around me, and will continue to do so,.

This is safe for me. This is real. This is what I can take. This is somethin’.

just wanted to say...

that I think this chic is amazing. thanks brooke for sharing at a crowded coffeehouse with a captive audience. beautiful.