Sometimes The Best Thing To Say Has To Be Sung

It started out as a feeling,
Which then grew into a hope,
Which then turned into a quiet thought,
Which then turned into a quiet word.
And then that word grew louder and louder
Until it was a longing cry
I'll come back when you call me.
No need to say goodbye.

Just because everything's changing,
Doesn't mean it's never been this way before.
All you can do is try to know who your friends are
As you head off to the war.
Pick a star on the dark horizon and
Follow the light.
You'll come back when it's over.
No need to say goodbye.
You'll come back when it's over.
No need to say goodbye.

Now we're back to the beginning,
It's just a feeling and no one knows yet.
But just because they can't feel it too,
Doesn't mean you have to forget.
Let your memories grow stronger and stronger,
Until they're before your eyes.
You'll come back when they call you.
No need to say goodbye.
You'll come back when they call you.
No need to say goodbye.

I want to think Regina Spektor for singing this beautiful song. I've always loved it, but now I love it in a different way.

For Aslan!

I'll Be True To You - The Saddest Story Ever Blogged

Yvette looked up from her computer screen and opened the front door. Nelson stood waiting outside, one arm behind his back. She had to let him in. Sighing, she pulled open the door.

"Hi Nel. What're you doing here?"

She sat on the nearby couch and he stood above her.

"Yvette, I'm done playing around. I need you to be honest with me. I can't wait around for you anymore. Either you love me or you don't. Tell me." He looked stern but vulnerable.

She took one glance at her computer and felt trapped. It wasn't supposed to be this way. The note had said it all. Yve, I love you. I want to be with you and I hope you feel the same.  Love, your secret. There was so much emotion in that one simple gesture. Today was the day she would find out who her secret was. She desperately wanted it to be Lenny. She was physically attracted to Lenny and her dreams about him had taken her places that she had never been before. He was exotic and handsome, but she always felt disappointed after talking to him, like she was pining after someone who couldn't be caught, who wasn't supposed to be hers.

Nelson was sweet, and told her she was beautiful everyday. If only he was more attractive! He wasn't ugly by any means but he was nothing compared to Lenny.

Lenny is a daydream. If he wanted you, he would be here right now. He should have read her letter. She never put her heart on the line for someone she had known for less than a year. Nelson had been pining after her for nearly five. Did she find him less attractive because he reeked of desperation? Because he had only had eyes for her and there was no competition? Because he wasn't what she had pictured? Because he wasn't toned? What was it? She felt shallow.

Did she like Lenny because he was desirable? Because all the girls wanted him? Because he was a personal challenge? Because he was sexy? She shuddered as she remembered the times she had been with him and had desperately wanted to rip off his clothes right then and there. Passion. That's what Lenny was: sexy passion. Nelson was affectionate and sweet. Yvette had never been outwardly affectionate. The decision was hard. She couldn't stand to make it, but here stood Nelson wanting her to; needing her too. She was dangling him on a line and she knew her words would altar his decision.

"Nelson, I can't. I don't know how I feel. It's complicated."

"What is so complicated? It's simple: do you LOVE me?" He was getting angry. She saw his face turn a deep red and a vein popped out in his head. At this point, it seemed that he thought she was going to reject him again. That's all he had heard from her was rejection. She still felt bad about it at times; what if he was her person. What if she was making the same mistake over and over again.

How to choose? Passion with someone she knew little about or settling for someone she knew too much about that her friends didn't approve of. That should have been a red flag right there. Love shouldn't be based on what her friends thought. I've never told anyone about Lenny. Especially not Nelson. 

She turned her gaze to the book she had been reading. The writer's name had started with a Y and the writer's lover had been called Nate. Y and N. Not Y and L.

"I believe in signs, zodiacs signs, stop signs. Little things from God that show me I'm doing the right thing." She took a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry I've kept you holding on, but it truly is complicated. I don't know what path to choose. I've been secretly seeing Lenny. You're the first person to know. I'm not sure if he even likes me."

"Are you fucking kidding me?! Lenny? He's my best friend and you've been dating him. Wow. Well I guess I know where that leaves us. If you have to wait on a response from someone else to help determine your feelings then obliviously the answer is no." He immediately went to the door and stopped. "You know, I never thought you were a slut until this moment. Going behind my back like that is total betrayal and I never want to talk to you again." He grabbed the door and slammed it behind him.

She was still on the couch where she had first sat. Could she have changed that? Was she being shallow? The questions ate at her from inside the deepest parts of her soul. She could run after him, stop him, try to calm him down. But she realized the truth was she wanted Lenny more than Nelson.

It didn't matter that Nelson would have been a good husband. He could have trimmed down and looked sexy. She could have learned how to be affectionate. She could have learned not to be so afraid. It was too late now. She had made her decision; she was waiting for Lenny.

Lenny hadn't gotten that memo. He let the letter she had written him go unread. It lay in his attic gathering dust never to be seen. He didn't come to see her that day, and he only saw glimpses of her at the supermarket, at the football stadium, leaving the gym. Yvette crossed his mind only three times over the next 10 years, but he had more pressing things to worry about.

Yvette on the other hand suffered greatly for her choice. She started working out more, eating healthier, became more worldly for Lenny. She wanted him to be proud to be her boyfriend. As the years went by, her earnest waiting turned into frustration, then worry, then disappointment and ultimately resentment. If not for him, she could have had a family, and children. She could have been happy. By choosing passion over fear she lost out on all the important things in life. As her feelings tore her down, she watched everyone around her live happy full lives. The police found her in her apartment dead at age 38.

Lenny had chosen that day to go see Yvette. When he saw the cop cars outside, he ran up the steps and rushed into the room where the paramedics were putting her bagged body onto the gurney.

He asked a nearby police officer where Yvette was. He hoped she wasn't in the bag. Please let this be her roommate. Let it be any one else but her. 

The officer looked down at the bag and Lenny knew he was too late. He cried like an acquaintance would cry at a funeral. One small tear after another. The fact that he wasn't hurting like a lover, like Yvette had hoped he would, was the final nail in her coffin.

She had made the wrong choice.

He shouldn't have waited.

Thought of the Day: Don't Lose Your Spirit

The Pursuit of Happiness

When my mom was young, she had to sit at the table until her plate was finished. It didn't matter how long she had to sit there, but she couldn't leave until all the food on her plate was in her mouth. She always says that one time she challenged her mother and sat until 1 in the morning food uneaten. At that point, her father walked in and excused her. It just occured to me that I only eat what I "want" off of my plate. That means I leave some items I have never tried or don't want to eat like vegetables. In the last case, those are really healthy things that can help me grow in a postive way. I think that my only what I want viewpoint has carried over beyond the dinner table. I fight so hard against anything I'm not familiar with or don't want to do. Perhaps this has something to do with procrastination because I don't do what I don't want to which is typically essays for english, large projects, or things I expect to be boring. Maybe I can beat procrastination if I started doing things that I didn't want to. Like getting up at 4 am to finish that project before I go behind, or starting on something a day or two early to really hound in the idea. It is easy to write this, but the reality of it is stinging even as I think about this. I was/am always great at avoiding all sorts of discipline that I can.

Lord, I ask for your help. Through your grace I aspire to turn that was/am to a firm WAS and leave it behind me in the past. Amen.

>ClumsyCatholic

The Winding Road Away from Nowhere

The air conditioning is not powerful. I can barely feel it over the shoulders of my brother. He's driving. Dads next to him. I'm in the back in my sideways seat looking at the dirt road through the back of our pickup. Today we leave everything I've ever known for a chance to get my dad a job with my other brother. It's quiet. There's no conversation in the front   Brett says dad did something to him but no one will say what. Although I'm an adult now no one will tell me anything because I'm the little sister. The taste of a coke is still on my tongue making my teeth feel like candy. I got it from Flo's shop. She was always so kind to me. I visited her shop often and nearly got sick of it but I was comfortable there. I will probably never see that shop again. I hate the feeling of leaving. We should just stay in one place forever. No travel. No worry. No broken hearts. I left plenty of them back in Wadsworth but only one will I take with me until I can get to Wyoming. I hope it'll make it that far. Maybe then my Sandy world will become more colorful. 

Lent

I always love to find out the origins of the names of things. Why is a fork called a fork, and things like that. Unfortunately, not many people write down things like that so a lot of it is heresey or tradition without an explantion. So I didn't bother to look up Lent in the original dictionary because i'm sure I wouldnt find it, but my brain seemed to make a connection without the help of a big boring book.

In the dictionary, Lent is the past action of granting someone the use of something with the understanding that it will be returned. I find that a bit ironic.

I've been Catholic since birth. Each year during the depressing time of February and March, Lent begins. This is the liturgical season that helps religious people get ready for the celebration of Easter. Its a time of sacrifice, and getting closer to God. People give up sinful acts or sacrifice something they enjoy to show that they are dedicated. This season is 40 days long so about 6 weeks, there is 2 days of fasting, and Fridays requires one to abstain from eating meat. With this background, hopefully you"ll see what i'm talking about.

Jesus died on the cross for our sins. Through his death we gained the opportunity for eternal life in heaven. At the beginning of the earth, God and his subjects were together but Adam and Eve were tricked and were separated from God. So i'm thinking that Lent is the time when we especially awknowledge the fact that God lent us time on this earth and this designsted season helps us sort of pay him back for all he's done.

I just recently thought about this. If i'm right maybr i've reached a new level of spiritual understanding; but it could also be something well off. Oh well I think it's kinda awesome, and that's all that matters.

I dont typicaly make a big deal out of Lent, but this year has changed things. I am now a youth group leader at my church, and i'm hoping to bring teens closer to Christ. Im working on my relationship with God and this year i've given up tv during the week so I can spend more time becoming a better Catholic. Ok, so it may sound like i'm bragging about being "holier than thou" but i'm just curious to hear from my fellow Catholics. I'd love to hear from my fellow Chrisitians and those of other faiths too. How are you celebrating Lent?

A.O.L.T.M.F.H.

Even though I don't know exactly who you'll be yet, I think of you often.
I wonder how you're living your life now. It matters to me, you know,
because how you live your life now determines the kind of man you're
becomin...and the kind of man I'll spend the rest of my life with.

Apparently, for some bizarre reason, manhood doesn't come automatically
for males. Some guys seem to spend their entire lives trying to "prove
their manhood"--by hunting, playing sports, driving fast...and,
unfortunately, by having sex. It seems rather strange to us women that
guys think having sex proves you're a man. To us, it just proves that
they've reached puberty. And we don't really consider that, in itself, to
be any great accomplishment. Becoming a man is a much more complicated
process.

The funny thing is, even in this day and age, most guys want to marry a
girl who respects her sexuality. A guy doesn't like the idea of his future
wife in the back seat with someone else, or of her being the subject of a
sexual conquest story in the locker room. They'll brag about girls like
that, but they won't marry them. They want to marry a girl, whether she's
never "done it" or done it and regretted it, who recognizes that sex
speaks the language of forever, committed love...someone like me.

But why would I want to marry someone like that...someone who wants to
marry a virgin, but spends his dating years robbing other girls of their
virginity so that he can prove his manhood? He's not a "real man" in my
eyes--he's a selfish, immature boy driven by insecurity, not love. And I'm
not interested.

I want moe from you. I want you to respect your sexuality as much as I
respect mine. I want you to be a real, confident man, not a wimp who has
to use women to feed his insecurity. A guy like that couldn't use all of
those women, and then suddenly love me. He may be "good" in bed, but he's
no good at loving.

I want you to learn to really love. Learning to love is learning to put
the other first. A guy who messes around outside of marriage isn't putting
the good of the other first. He's using a girl...speaking the "body
language" of permanent commitment when the relationship isn't permanent.
He's putting the girl at risk of pregnancy. And he's putting himself at
risk for some nasty diseases...diseases he can then later give his wife.
That's not making love. A real man loves women--all women--and wants
what's best for them. And he doesn't let his desires control his actions.
He controls his desires instead.

I want you to develop self-control. That's important to me. I don't want
to marry a man who can't control himself. Men like that make lousy
husbands. A guy who isn't used to saying "no" to sex isn't going to be any
better at it at 40 than he is at 18. I've seen women who worry every time
their husbands hire an attractive secretary. I don't want that. What kind
of marriage could I have with someone I couldn't even trust on a business
trip?

In the short run, I'm sure there aren't too many rewards for a guy living
this way. Society tells you that you're missing out on your "sexual peak."
Your silence during the locker room bragging sessions can seem deafening.
You may have even heard from the girls you date that something must be
"wrong" with you because you won't prove you're a man. It's just
irritating that no one else seems to know it, isn't it?

But somebody does know it. I know it. And in the end, I'm the only someone
who matters.

And no, I'm not as narrowminded as those guys who say they'll only marry a
virgin. Society isn't too supportive of virginity, especially male
virginity. I can forgive mistakes in your past. But i'm interested in your
future, starting now. When I meet you, I want you to be a man who has made
a conscious decision to wait...out of love for our future family and
commitment to our marriage. And I want you to be a real man, who's
developed the control maturity and unselfishness that waiting brings. They
may not be popular traits in the locker room, but they're popular with me.
They'll make you a better husband, and a bete father. To me, that's sexy.

I've abstained from sex all of these years, and it hasn't been for the
lack of offers. I've had plenty of opportunities, and saying "no" hasn't
always been easy. I'm sure it's not always easy for you, either. But it
will make our marriage so much stronger. Sex will be our gift to each
other, our exclusive "language." It'll belong to us, not "us and everyone
else we ever dated."

Thanks for waiting for me. I promise you won't regret it.

 (by Mary Beth Bonacci)

This is an amazing letter I wanted to share with you.