The Paradox

“We’re never so vulnerable than when we trust someone- but paradoxically, if we can not trust, neither can we find love or joy.”

–Walter Anderson

I have always had a difficult time trusting in others. For a long time I believed that everyone I loved would leave me because I was unworthy of their love. I would convince myself that I did not have feelings for a person just to protect myself from the potential hurt. This left me surrounded by many people, but feeling utterly alone. I am shy and reserved; I am an introvert by nature. After years of feeling as though I was incapable of love I tried something different.

On this particular Tuesday morning I woke up, brushed my teeth, and found myself having a conversation with myself in the bathroom mirror. If Margaret had been home I am sure that she would have thought it was time to commit me. I finished the conversation with myself and it was from that moment on that I have known that I was worthy of all of the love that the world had to offer me. I skipped class that morning to write some stuff down about myself that I had never really faced before. I admitted that my occasional abrasiveness was nothing more than a self-defense mechanism to keep people at a distance. I did note that my sarcasm and wit was worth keeping as long as I made as many jokes about myself as I did about others. I thumbed through photos of my trip to the Dominican and was reminded that things are never as bad as they seem. I have running water, a car (with a broken window-thanks dad), food available to me when I am hungry, a relatively healthy family, and a great group of friends. I still remember how fortunate I am by thinking about the village way up in the mountains and how I cried like a baby when the town mayor hugged me. Since that Tuesday I have tried, although not always successfully, to let my vulnerabilities show. I still hate crying, especially in public.

Shortly after that day I met someone who changed my everything. I warned him not to fall in love with me because I had other plans for life and wouldn’t be sticking around. I had never felt for anyone the way I felt for him. With him things were easy. There was always a laugh at the end of the day or a lap to fall asleep in while balled up on the couch. I ultimately gave up my dreams for him and it didn’t work out. This left me scrambling for a back up plan and right in the middle of some of the loneliest months of my life. It is because of this experience that I ended up in Philadelphia on a last minute decision. Perfect timing- an escape plan that involved moving forward with life in a city where our paths would never have to cross and standing plans for catching up when I made it home.

The first seven months here were a bit strange. I often felt lost and completely alone in a big city that I hated. I was still bruised from hurt that I left behind in Maine. Although I tried hard to remain open and trusting it was more difficult because of that strange hole that was left inside. I found my way, found little places that I loved, and found people who I love dearly now. As Grad school started to wind down something happened- I found a love for Philly that made me want to stay. I wasn’t ready to call it quits on the city life. It is when you least expect it that you meet someone who changes everything for you.

That happened for me 350 days ago. I was enamored by the laughs, the awkward silences, the mysterious looks across the table, the never ending hunt for excellent burgers, the kisses on the forehead, and the way our hands felt tangled together while walking down the street. Although things didn’t always seem to be smooth I didn’t mind the occasional sanding with a 220-C grit. In this person I though that I had found what I was looking for.

What sucks the most is that things went badly in the one way that I hoped they never would. Some things you cannot forgive, and you can’t hide them even though you try. And no matter how hard you try you can’t erase that memory. You can’t get that look in their eye out of your mind. You hope and you believe that they are not a monster; that they didn’t really do things just to be hurtful and spiteful. You know deep down that they lost control, and that control is what they thrive on. You know that your love for them doesn’t just stop or go away. You lie to yourself in an attempt to make yourself believe that he is a good man and is worthy of love and trust, but you know that you would never be able to trust him again.

 But you still love him.


It hurts.
It hurts all the damn time.

The morning sun

Sometimes we make mistakes, sometimes we slip up. I write letters that I will never send because they say exactly what I am thinking and how I feel. I have always been better at writing things down than just talking about them. My innermost feelings and desires scribbled across papers that no one will ever read because I am afraid. Sometimes someone writes a song that comes close to describing how I feel. Today this would be it:

Simply because we can't all be in the center of the circle.

Oh the places you go

Sometimes you just want to go back, backwards in time, and change events in hopes of creating a different ending. I thought about it. I searched high and low for a Delorean to take me back to the future but there weren't any for sale on Craigslist. I wish that we could go backwards, and take away all of the bad things said and change the course of events. I wish that would erase the pain that doesn't seem to subside that is kept hidden so deeply inside. Sometimes you long for what you can't have: a lasting hug from someone, a slight smile that tells you they can read your mind, the way the bathroom smells just after a shower, the glimpse of a sleeping face as the moonlight peeks through the window, the mornings of lost keys in pockets, the butterflies that fill your stomach at the sight of them. Instead you are left with that feeling of emptiness and disdain from the last time you spoke to them or saw them.

If I could find that mysterious Delorean I would go back far enough to change a lot of things.

Asian style chicken wings- maybe another time, in another place.

"'She not pretty but she is going to be beautiful': at twenty they still said so, and at twenty-seven when she'd married him it was still true, according to the category through which one perceived such thing as focus: it was equally true of her now, at thirty, that she gave the impression of someone who is still going to be, perhaps just about to be, 'beautiful."

Night Time is the Right Time

The world keeps moving

Yet it is so still

Because in the light of night

Everything was so perfect

Mmmm Scrimps!

Sesame teriyaki shrimp with pineapple and grilled sweet potatoes. I have been eating like a champ!

One Weekend

This was a weekend that will go down in history:

1. Worked 28 hours
2. Slept 7 hours (total)
3. Consumed 7 Redbulls to survive
4. Almost ripped a mole off of my neck with a seat belt
5. Ate a buffalo chicken egg roll for dinner
6. Laughed uncontrollably
7. Witnessed a diner altercation at 2AM
8. Was offered a coffee by a toothless gem at 7-11, in return he wanted a jump
9. Took a 1.4oz shot of syrup
10. Made the cash dollars
11. PB cup martinis are gross with the redbull taste on your tongue
12. Had a dance party in a car, twice in one night in two separate cars
13. Watched WAY too much basketball
14. Swallowed an entire hot dog using only two bites
15. Came home to grilled strip steaks and sweet potatoes
16. Healed a bit.

A smart man

“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving” -Albert Einstein

My bike riding buddy!

Some very close to me know what has been going on the past two and a half weeks. For those people I am very thankful for them allowing me to lean on them and for the jokes they told to help me fight back the tears. Today I can’t seem to fight them back. We spend our lives as Americans collecting and amassing things that are sentimental and hold some trivial importance to us. I have moved half way around the world and all the way across the country and back and those trivial things have made those trips with me. Today I learned that all of those things are gone. I am sure that they were discarded as a means of being spiteful and hurting me. Only hurt people try to hurt people.

So what are some of the things I lost?

• An irreplaceable set of plates from my great grandmother.
• A baseball card collection that I started at age 5.
• All of my childhood photos and photo albums from life.
• A machete, a gift from a poor family in the DR to say thanks.
• A snowboard that I loved dearly.
• My grand father’s old toy chest.
• Hundreds and hundreds of dollars worth of art supplies.

So what did I gain from this?

            A sense that without these items the memories will still remain. I will never forget kissing the blarney stone for the first time, the way the Cruise America camper struggled to get us to the Grand Canyon, the way Brooke looked on the day she was born, the summer of the hammer pants and boat shoes, the look of my dad’s face as it was in the first photo of him holding me. Without material items the load we have to bear is much less. I can sleep at night knowing that losing things doesn’t hurt; don’t get me wrong- it was hurtful and upsetting to realize that someone would try to hurt you so badly. I laughed when talking to someone yesterday about going to pick up my shit, and he reminded me that it is in fact just that: shit. If all of that was in my basement and the house was on fire I wouldn’t have made it down there to save it anyway. I would have grabbed what is most important to me (Loki) and got the fuck out. I got out. Scathed a bit, but out.

So back to the smart man and riding bicycles:

I remember riding my bicycle as a child. I remember my father cheering feverishly as I peddled as hard as my four year old legs could to keep it moving without the training wheels. I was lucky. I had a father who knew how to trick me and help me build the confidence to give it a try. I was even luckier that we had a slight hill in the yard with grass short enough and soft enough to protect me from any real harm. My first attempt at riding the little red BMX bike without the training wheels: SUCCESS! From that very moment on the feeling of wind in my hair has reminded me that I am free. I am free to keep moving in any direction that I wish. One summer this required the little white motorcycle to remind me that I can do anything I put my mind to. I am not afraid- a little shy and very private- but not afraid of what tomorrow may bring. So if life really is like riding a bicycle I am just going to keep on moving (knowing that my people will be there should I hit a sandy patch). 

Shit is just relative; I believe Einstein had some small theory about relativity too.

Old friends

Friends know the words to the songs in your heart even when you forget them.

Let your troubles fly away

"Be as a bird perched on a frail branch that she feels bending beneath her, still she sings away, all the same, knowing she has wings." -Victor Hugo

Today is like thanksgiving

It has been a rough week and a half. I wouldn't wish any of this on anyone, not even someone that I despise. I am so thankful for the following things:

Good friends and warm hearts.
Family that would do anything to ensure that I am happy and safe.
Amazing hair cuts that help hide the hurt.
The google account recovery team.
An always loving dog who provides (almost) unlimited cuddles.
The friends who are just a phone call away.
A niece who radiates joy.
Chicken wings and things.
My moon walking skills.
A rearview mirror because where you have been isn't always where you need to go.

Oh and being told that you are in fact cancer free! The best phone call you can get at the worst of times.