Friday, August 21, 2015

Entry #7: Facebook Woes, The End of Summer, and Catching the Sun

This morning, I caught the sun.

I even have proof of it.

But let me explain how I even got to this point.

I have three days left of summer. Three. And Sunday hardly even counts because, well, it's a Sunday. So anyway, it's the end of summer, three days away from the last first day as an undergraduate, and I'm up late thinking about the people in my life.

Yes, people.

So I decide to open the Facebook app on my phone and stalk those people (mostly because I miss them and I want to see what they've been up to without actually asking them). After an hour of doing so, I find myself stuck on one particular page. I was thumb deep, like 2010 deep. And then, as these things usually happen in my life, I accidentally like a post on the page. It wouldn't have been so terrible, but this person and I haven't really spoken in awhile (which is weird for us--but that's a different story) and it was a post that one of his friends placed on his Facebook wall with inappropriate words in it, and it was awkward. It had nothing to do with me.

I accidentally liked it. My heart raced. I unliked it. But my thumb re-tapped it. I unliked it again. I felt like I might puke. I almost did. I exited out of the app and cursed wifi.

He and whoever she was would definitely receive a notification. No doubt about it.

I was embarrassed. It was almost two in the morning and I couldn't live with the guilt. Crap, I thought. He knows I've been on his page! 

What was I supposed to do?! I couldn't sleep at that point. And the cat I was with wasn't very simpatico. I prayed that God would take favor on me, and somehow, the notification wouldn't be there anymore. But Facebook is notorious for notifications. It's the reason it even exists--well, not really, stalking your friends is the reason it exists.

So in the midst of my freak out, I decided to see the sun rise.
I thought, you know what, if I'm going to beat myself up about this one, I better even it out with something I've never done before. The thing is, no one told me that a sunrise is just a reverse sunset.

Not that it wasn't cool, it was breathtaking.

But it reminded me of those people again, him, in particular. It reminded me of our friendship and how it was currently non-existent. We'd somehow become that friendship that the both of us hated. We were ignoring each other instead of facing whatever it was that bothered us. We had spent many moon-rises together, and here I was, catching the sun, but praying for a sunset I'd already seen before, praying for a sunset where him and I were still in a friendship that mattered.

And still, so vividly, I can see us, under the stars, at the barnshow, with me asking: "Will you be my friend again?" And you saying yes, and smiling at me like I was ridiculous. Because I was. I am. 

Though it was only three months ago, and we're still a couple of twenty-year-olds, and we fixed things just to break them, I so eagerly want to ask you to be my friend again. But I can't. It might not be how it was. And I'll forever be another face in the crowd, singing along to the prodigious lyrics you wrote. And you'll stumble upon a new wishing well where you'll spend all your time throwing in prayers and brown coins.

To see the video that encouraged me to stalk my late friend on the FB, click here.

*And no, he's not dead, just to clear that up.

Monday, May 11, 2015

Entry # 6: Good Vibes

The end of school is finally upon me, and it is utterly amazing.

This last week I've actually been moving. (I'll post a picture once I'm all settled, and I'll give a tour.)
This is my first experience living on my own.

It's possible I'll have a roommate in the near future, she's quite awesome, but right now, it's just me.

I live in a small cabin, on a base of a camp, facing the lake. (Here's a link: click me!)

There are no lions, tigers, or bears. (Not in the Midwest . . . maybe mountain lions, oh, and coyotes.) But there is a plethora of creepy crawlers--which is enough to keep me awake in the wee hours of the night.

I've been reading again, which just so happens to be the best feeling ever. Once I'm completely settled, I'll start writing again. My main character, Noah, has found himself settled on the outskirts of my mind. He's been hiking around up there, hoping that I'll eventually hear him out enough to write all of his thoughts down.

Oh, I'll get to it.

With the summer comes a long internship, many campers, and probably a few tick bites.
I'm sure I'll encounter hardships along the way that will bring on tears as well.
For it seems like I'm always crying these days. . . . . I'll make it through.

I'm trying to hold onto this promise that brought me here in the first place. I swear, I feel it slipping away from me, though.
The words that were once so clear seem muted. And I know this promise doesn't entail all good things, but part of me still hopes that it does.

And I hope that I can mend things with my dear friend, my labyrinth.

I guess I'll go ahead and wrap things up before I get too mushy.
Below is a poem I read today by the great Robert Frost:

Lovers, forget your love,
And list to the love of these,
She a window flower,
And he a winter breeze.
When the frosty window veil
Was melted down at noon,
And the caged yellow bird
Hung over her in tune,
He marked her though the pane,
He could not help but mark,
And only passed her by
To come again at dark.
 He was a winter wind,
Concerned with ice and snow,
Dead weeds and unmated birds,
And little of love could know.
But he signed upon the sill,
He gave the sash a shake,
As witness all within
Who lay that night awake.
Perchange he half prevailed
To win her for the flight
From the firelight looking-glass
And warm stove-window light.
But the flower leaned aside
And thought of naught to say,
And morning found the breeze
A hundred miles away.

Thursday, April 23, 2015

Entry# 5: Theories

“He was gone, and I did not have time to tell him what I had just now realized: that I forgave him, and that she forgave us, and that we had to forgive to survive in the labyrinth.”
-Looking For Alaska, John Green

This quote speaks volumes.

So much so that I have nothing left to say.

....Just kidding.

It's past midnight where I am, and this last week, this last hour, I can't stop thinking about God's theory for my life.

Like, when He (or she . . . I don't discriminate) decided to birth me up, pop me in Kansas, and place random people in my life was there a game plan behind it, or was it all free play?

There's one person, in particular, that has recently been placed in my life that has literally driven me crazy since the first moment we met. ( . . . and something tells me it's always going to be this way.)

Before we were friends, I knew we were going to be intertwined in some random way, and I knew I'd be ruined because of it.
I remember the first time I felt it. We were in a dimly lit room, there were candles in front of me, and past the candles sat a bright face with downcast eyes. I felt like that bubble in the GIF above, tingles waltzed down my spine, and somehow I knew we'd be friends. Somehow I knew that, whatever path I choose, they'd be at the end of it.

So naturally, that scared the crap out of me, and I had anxiety about it for weeks.

And when I saw this person again, it was like a rush of waves had gone through me, and I was overcome with peace and excitement.

It's no surprise, as predicted, the mystery person and I developed a friendship. And now, after ruining most of it (also as predicted), I feel like a character in John Green's book; I feel like I'm lost in the labyrinth. I'm far in, but I can still remember what entering the labyrinth feels like. And I think it's that feeling that's got me lost in the first place.

So how do I get out without losing myself?

Honestly, world, friends, whoever's reading this right now, I have no freaking idea.

I don't know how to get out of this hole I call home. I don't know how to get out of the labyrinth.

But maybe this "theory" for my life is this: Lose yourself in the labyrinth, Britney, and when you do, figure out what brought you to the labyrinth in the first place. 

Something tells me that this labyrinth, this ruined/destined friendship of mine, has a lot more to say than I've bargained for.

Maybe if I close my eyes, I'll hear the still voice. 

Friday, February 13, 2015

Entry #4: Loneliness Is Like A Drug

I quoted in a book once, "Loneliness is like a drug, the hardest part is getting sober."

Those words still hold to be true. But the older I get, the more I realize that it's not the loneliness that kills us, it's the waiting:

It's the silence before the change in weather, the sigh before the revealing answer, the scream before the piercing bullet, the squealing breaks before the crash. It's the anticipation that kills us, and our desire to dive into the unknown. 

We get obsessed with this stuff--it makes our blood tingle. And in the midst of it all, we conjure up false truths. We find ourselves unworthy. 

We get so lost that we forget that we're only waiting. We forget that we're only lonely

And what would we do if we knew that the problems we faced weren't really problems at all? What would we utter when we found out that our hope isn't without light? I think we'd all be in shock. 

Loneliness is addictive; Waiting is temperamental. 

But I think it's in these vulnerable moments when we truly find ourselves. I think it's in these few moments, when we realize that all of our broken pieces are not actually broken--they're whole--and it's the darkness that sheds light on that sometimes.  

In that same book that I quoted above, I also quoted this, and I want it to stick to you like it did for the main character: 
Love is restless; it never sleeps. It will pursue and consume you until every piece of your body is glued back together again. Even at times when you bleed—just so you know that you’re alive—Love will find you. It won’t leave you breathless or wrung out. Love will never give up on you; in the dark, when you finally find the light that’s been patiently waiting for you, your eyes will be open, and you’ll finally realize your worth.

You will no longer be broken.

Monday, January 26, 2015

Entry #3: Dichotomy


A division or contrast between two things that are represented as being opposed or entirely different.

A photo I took of my friend Morgan. 

A separation between realities. A contrast. 
Black and white. 

Me and everything I want in life.

An intersection.

Him and I.

In a letter, he ended with something along the lines of, "keep smiling, my friend."

And I cried because I had failed again. With him, I failed.

It hurt, but I got over it. I remembered those words. I moved on. And life got better, until then, it didn't. Somehow my heart was still wounded by the sound of his name.

I put my anger into words and I wrote a book, but I couldn't finish it because I didn't see the end. And I remembered God saying, "I promised you this one."

I promised you this . . . I promised you this. 

But maybe he didn't.

On good days, I forget about him. On better days, I remember every detail of his face. And on days like this, I beg for amnesia.

It's usually in my frustration when I gradually remember words from a book I've read:

The reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected. Maybe they always have been and will be. Maybe we've lived a thousand lives before this one and in each of them we've found each other. And maybe each time, we've been forced apart for the same reasons. That means that this goodbye is both a goodbye for the past ten thousand years and a prelude to what will come.

I realize that I am deeper in this than I would like to be. 

We were a story. 
Your smile and your quirkiness were an abundance of words tattooed on my heart. 

But I'd freely give it all if I could delete you from my hard drive. 

*takes deep breath*

I did this to myself. I'm living in my own dichotomy.

Friday, January 23, 2015

Entry # 2: Be Still

Usually it’s in the stillness when I hear the voice.

I followed this cat around. What an intriguing creature.

But lately, it’s been in the chaos.

It’s the background music, the dim lights, the mumbled prayers coming from those around me.
In all it's grandeur. Completely beautiful.

And the words I hear, I don’t always understand them.
No, sometimes I can’t tell them apart from my own, but it lures me in, and like that cat pictured above, I want to freely follow it into the wild.

It is stunning, this voice, and somehow I feel like it will all be okay.
I slip into oblivion. I am loved.
I am free.

So when it murmurs, I listen.
It is my sanity. My golden light. My night star.

All of it is truly amazing.
I could not say it enough.

All of you is truly amazing. 

Entry #1: Everything Has A Beginning

Regardless of what you do, where you go, or who you run into, there's a start.

Everything has a beginning.

LaCygne Kansas, The best place on earth. 

And so, with beginnings, here's the start of a new blog. On More Than Words, I'll focus on what's happening in my personal life. You get the privilege of stepping inside my brain and picking at my thoughts.   

I'll post pictures that I've taken of places I've been, or people who are important to me, so that we can relate better. 

This is, literally, an open book to my life, and I am more than excited to share it with you. Who knows, we could become best friends. (wink, wink.) 

The picture posted above is of a lake in LaCygne Kansas. I have it posted as the best place on earth because, to me, it is. It's where I live. (I'll expand on that in another post.) However, on the edge of that dock, I like to sit, legs crossed, and listen to the waves as I write. 

I like to think of it as an inspiration dock. Great things come from that old wooden thing. It's magical.

Beginnings start there. 

But today, I'm passing the torch on. Beginnings can start anywhere. It's like a constant bind of infinities. An anxious heartbeat.  

Welcome, my friends. Welcome to my new beginning.