Exhibit a

You’re standing right in front of me. I see you and it makes me smile. Then you leave and I remember what you said and I keep thinking I might have made it up in my head but then it hits me…you actually said it. As with all matters of the heart, its unpredictability is scary but you can’t go against a force of nature. There’s no way of knowing what could happen but there is a way of enjoying these crazy volatile hearts. I kept wondering whether I liked a guy or not, and I don’t know if it’s just me, but I know right away, in an instant. When it’s there, it’s there and when it isn’t…there’s no point in wasting any time with it. You’re there.

You’re sitting and I can see the veins running through your arms. I keep forgetting and then I wake up and remember and a burst of energy runs through my body. We have an instrument in common and the strings remind me how music can heal anything, almost as much as time can.

Writing is making me become cautious. How can one trust again when the recovery process feels painful and endless? I don’t know but, against all odds, we always do. I swear if hearts could be examined, mine should be exhibit a. I can feel it trying to burst out of my chest sometimes. I can feel it die when people toss it around. I can feel its changing colors and its different shades depending on what I’m wearing.

What every beating part of it really wants is to be treated with care, never forgetting how fragile but strong it can be. Exhibit a is in your hands at the moment and all I can do is hope. Hope that you’ll examine it carefully, not dropping it or tossing it around. It might be only one of many but I’ve been told it’s quite unique. Be kind. And as Amanda would say: “it doesn’t matter if you want it back, you’ve given it away.” The parts are given away forever. The parts we give away for examination will always remain in the hands of the trusted, the fortunate brave ones.


Never enough

I walk up the street and they point at me, they even laugh. I keep singing and pretending I’m normal. I was born into this bizarre normal world and I sometimes find myself craving what everyone else wants, it’s very frustrating but a craving nonetheless. I cannot seem to find a way to fit into a world that hasn’t found a way to get me. I find other wandering souls and they save me. They save me from being pulled into the side I never truly want to belong to. I crave you and you are not here and as much as I truly desire having you, it’s never enough to change. Many alluring objects call my name but my heart pulls me back…knowing that I should trust it.

This swaying happens almost daily and as complicated as it seems, it’s never enough for me to settle, for me to change my oddities. As hard as it can get, nothing ever seems to be enough for me to betray the insanity of being who I cannot help but be. The bullies in my head mock me and their knives are sharp, they throw them at me and sometimes they cut me, I bleed and the recovery process begins. Then the wounds heal and I can walk again and what happens? I don’t care that it ever happened and I keep hanging out with the wonderful odd purple people that make me laugh and make me feel alive. And that’s just it. I sometimes picture myself surrounded by the white fences and all housewifey and I could be accepted but fully miserable. I don’t know why we care about being accepted…but I guess deep inside I don’t care. I guess my fear is felt but not real. I do believe I can have it all. I know someday all the pain will have a purpose and I’ll be proud that I didn’t change.

I want my wedding to be weird. I want the people there to be odd and blooming wallflowers, observing life unfold. I want those that never gave up and knew there was never enough reason to change to be present. Those that have bled because they had to and that know how because of it they can appreciate life more. But more importantly I want those that can see me and can hear the music that the others can’t. And especially I want the guy next to me to know who I am. I want him to know how much I went through to be together. I want him to know how much I love him and what that day means. It’s not just a celebration of love but a celebration of protecting our individuality and finding a way towards each other even when it was hard and challenging to survive.

I know I am a dreamer but I know I’m not alone. I know that as hard it can get to be odd and in this unique world that I see, there is absolutely no reason to give up or change just because most say so. As tempting as it can be, I can never find a good enough reason to change or to stop dancing to the silent music in my head…you shouldn’t either.

Out of the woods

Not only am I out of the woods but the wounds have finally healed. The fire that almost consumed me left deep scars, but they even make me smile now. Being lost in the woods makes you forget what safe and peaceful feel like. When you’re trying to survive, everything is different. The trees are a threat, the people walking around seem mean, the sky is covered by monsters that won’t allow you to see the light. I wasn’t quite sure if I was out yet but today I am. Today I can listen to the music again. I can dance. Today I can believe that someone else can come along. Today you no longer represent pain, but healed pain. I’m not gonna say I’ve forgotten, but I can say I’ve learned to live with it.

The love was as deep as the wood’s endlessness. For a minute there, I wasn’t sure I’d make it out. And then, against all odds, here I rise again. Life is this. Life is making your way through the woods, the water, the wind, the obstacles, taking a ride from kind strangers that smile, the people you meet throughout your journey, the creatures you cannot seem to describe and the love that never allows you to completely give up, even when you want to.

Today I want to thank you for having the courage to understand. I want to thank you for reading and never giving up. Today I’m out of the woods and you might be in the middle of them, but that’s why we’re not doing this alone, we can’t. We’re here together to help each other know that there’s someone out there that has been there and can understand. The woods are scary, dark and even beautiful when the tears will allow you to open your eyes and see. The woods inevitably force you to appreciate surviving. Even when you run into those souls that don’t even know what the woods look like, it makes you wonder if they’re better off. But they can’t be. They don’t get to hear the music or dance the way we do.

Today I’m dancing and I’m even singing. I’m celebrating being out of the woods and seeing the beautiful never-ending sky again. The sky that contains the sun with its rays showering us with faith. The sky that holds the beauty of clouds and their soft touch.

Being out of the woods is a wonderful reminder of how hopeful life can be and how important it is not to waste time when you’re in the middle of the maddening woods with self pity and playing cards with The Victim. The Victim will offer you food and try to make you think that you have a right to feel sorry for yourself, don’t fall into the trap. Say no to The Victim and continue fighting for your life. The sky and the other fighting souls will be grateful that you didn’t give up on us. We all need each other and giving up should never be an option. Today I’m out and the glow feels wonderful.

If love…

If love is more important than money, why do we invest so much time in becoming financially successful and not in love? Why do we go to our jobs without questioning the hours or the minutes?

If love is what we were created to need, why is it so neglected by our actions?

If love is what hurt you deeply, why do you do the same to me?

I try to ignore the pain by numbing myself with indifference and I bleed whenever I turn away but I must. I cannot keep feeling in a world that has become so cold, heartless.

If love is so damn important, why can’t we just easily find it? Why is it easier for some more than others? I’m OK; we always find a way to be. But if love is as precious as it feels, why was it made to be this painful?

If true love takes time, why does it take no time to fall into it and an eternity to fall out of it? Its lack of sense drives me insane.

If I deserve love, why did I fall in love with someone who’s reckless with hearts? Dragging them around, completely oblivious to the fact that they are made out of glass and must be treated with care.

If love takes up so much of my thoughts, why can’t I make a living off of it? Might as well make some money at least.

If love is felt more strongly by the cursed and the blessed, why must we all co-exist in the same playground, trying to play nice? Kids are mean, especially boys. They will never know what it feels like for a girl.

If love crawls into my brain every chance it gets, how can I possibly be Zen and let go?

If love seems so hopeless, why can’t I ever lose hope? Holding on to it as if my life depended on it. If you don’t love me, how could I possibly love you so blindly?

If love is  beautiful, why do I have to remind myself constantly how these moments are somehow worth living without you?

If love is red, why is everything so blue? Wherever I turn…

If love is this, then I understand why the artists never get tired of writing about it, trying to make some sense of it all by going over it once and again.

If love is all we need, why do I crave for so much more?

If love is what it is, why, oh why do I constantly need to understand it so desperately? If this is my heart’s desire, why can’t I hold the gold dust in my hands as I write this?

If only I knew, if only.

Happiness is a habit

I woke up searching for something to worry about. Is it the guy I used to love? Is it my love life in general? Am I not doing what I love? Am I successful enough? And then it hit me, there’s nothing there. There’s nothing to worry about and if I’m not careful, I might never be happy. Because what’s easily missed is the importance of our habits. Let’s say I wake up today and I have it all…but I will be so used to worrying, I will probably continue to do so.

Happiness isn’t what will be; happiness is what we choose to be. Something happened today. My mind was trying to fall into a bad habit, the habit of worrying. This is one of the worst habits to have because it can ruin your days; it rains on your parade. The easiest matter to worry about for me is my love life and my career. But then I wake up to find that what I have or don’t have has nothing to do with how happy I can be. I have more than I can ask for and it’s still not enough? That’s not right. And now I’m tired. It’s exhausting to feel entitled, to think we deserve more than we do. We have so much already.

Today I felt peace because I stopped myself from falling into the trap. If we continue to be the prisoners of our own bad habits, how can we expect to feel better or be better? Yes, old habits die hard. But those that believe that old habits die hard are precisely the ones that never break them. Today is just one day but if I keep thinking in a more positive way and choose not to fall into the dysfunction of worry, I not only believe I’ll break the bad habits, but I know I will. And that’s who I choose to be. Yes, I have made mistakes and I have had dysfunctional habits in the past, but it’s never too late to start making better choices. As soon as we tell ourselves we’re too old or it’s too late, we’ve lost.

I have moments where I get the urge to worry. The urge is powerful and it is a little voice trying to whisper into my subconscious what I haven’t accomplished or what I haven’t become. I used to give into it, believing it. Now I’m done. I am whatever I choose to constantly think and be. I am truly determined to break free from my bad habits. I have been trying to break the bad habit for almost a month and I cannot even explain how much better I feel. It’s true that when you act as if everything is OK, it will be. Happiness is not waiting for you at the end of the tunnel, it’s not a goal, it’s a habit. Today I realized that getting the guy or having it all isn’t what will help me feel joy, how I think is what will bring me the greatest joy. So that when I do actually have it all, I will already be happy because I chose to be.

If life was created full of imperfections, why should we wait for everything to be “perfect” in order for us to be happy? Happiness is now and lives nowhere else.