Thursday, December 11, 2014

After multiple break ups and reunions, my ever contented, sentimental heart couldn’t tame his thirst for adrenaline and he moved on. I hated myself for not being able to keep up, it was my first real breakup, and it was a doozy. You remember your first breakup don’t you?  The breakup that made you realize all the things you shouldn’t do when you’re heartbroken, only after doing all of them. I listened to sad songs, stalked his facebook profile multiple times a day, looked through all our pictures on my computer, and romanticized all the times he had been inconsiderate. Yeah this breakup was bad, bad like your roommate finds you on the bathroom floor choking on a salty mixture of tears and snot you have been laying in for the last 3 hours kind of breakup.

Looking back now, obviously he wasn’t for me; however he was kind, and the first person to teach me that I was funny, and capable of being in a partnership. We’re still friends to this day and I’m grateful he is happy. It’s amusing that we shared our own universe together for a time and when I look back, that seems like so long ago now, but it was ours and it was unforgettable. 

Sometimes I think about him still, and what we would be like if the universe we shared was still going on today. As nostalgic as this tryst is to envision, woefully I arrived at the insight that our universe would have inevitably burnt out. The sun that was the excitement of us together would have scorched and jostled the natural orbit off balance. I think our world would have turned into a compilation of stunning memories tragically wandering in the dark, pitifully trying to find a small light to return to visibility by its once most adored creators. Every smidgen of the matter that I am is appreciative that the universe we once shared will never be burnt out and darkened with the stale death that is monotony. Our planets will be endlessly static in their beauty, in an everlasting state of excitement, youth and exhilaration. Never would I desire to know the light of the cosmos we shared to have been ruined by the cast shadow of the desperation of alleviating dullness.

This being said, I think this was how I knew it wasn’t real. The thought of reality, endurance, and depth would have ruined our story; and these are some of my most beloved qualities of substantial and enjoyable monogamy. He was never meant to be my forever, because it wouldn’t have been him if he had settled down with me in the way I wanted to be settled with someone.

I am and forever will be thankful to have shared our small universe together for that time, but how gratifying it is to have a distinctive and perpetually fulfilling universe to share with love at second sight. Because, his universe is where I fit forever.  In the excitement of adventure as well as in the hazy quiet moments laying on a blanket together on a golden afternoon. Our shared universe is established in his gaze, where I find my every vulnerability safe in the flecks of color in his eyes.

That universe is a universe I trust. That universe is tangible. The only place where every fragment of me knows it will continue in orbit forever.

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

The following is documentation of love at second sight. Maybe it was one sided, maybe it wasn't, that isn't what's important about it. It happened,  to a realist like myself even, which in and of itself deserves documentation.

It was fall and I saw him. Not for the first time, but for the second or maybe third. 

The first time was passing each other on the staircase of my house while he was returning to his then girlfriend’s place and I was exiting down to my then boyfriends place. I remember that glance even though it was years ago and only for a few seconds. My thoughts were “Dang, where does she even find these guys?!”  Then gave no more thought to it.  

But you know those seemingly inconsequential moments in time that your mind will absolutely never let you forget? Days that seem like any other day but also seem to have a little magic to them after reflection of the things that occurred. They are those days you wake up and feel beautiful. When your hair is messy but in a beautiful way that you could never do on purpose,  and you only have time to put on a touch of mascara and your freckles don’t look so childish and annoying for some reason today. Those days full of inappropriate warm weather and sweet breezes. It was one of those days where you don’t realize at first there seems to be magic in the sunlight but after, everything was meant to be beautiful today. It was one of those days that beautiful moments are compelled to happen; moments that your brain will play back in slow motion every time you hear a crooning acoustic song with complimentary piano with just a hint of strings to really get you. 

I was waiting for the bus on the other side of the street. I had actually gotten semi ready for the day and not just rolled out of bed and threw on yoga pants and a flannel per usual. I was wearing a skirt and Birkenstocks because the sun was shining and it made me blissful. My messy long brown hair was lightly waving in the fall breeze and the sun was rolling out its last bits of golden morning light. I was listening to music in my headphones, something soft and appropriate for a sunny fall morning.  The feeling was incandescent and contented. I was cozy with the anticipation of the bus ride and the walk home passed the elementary school with the tree-lined path.

Then the magic of the day was brimming and had to dispense itself, and I saw him coming off the bus on the other side of the street. I saw him and for a moment I didn’t recognize him. Usually I can’t recount my exact thoughts at exact moments in time, but for those small magically haunting times I can.  The thoughts came to me as if I was speaking to my best friend. “Whoa, who is that guy? He’s tall and handsome, it’s not everyday you see someone like that on this campus.“ The ensuing moment I realized it was him. It was you. 

I intently observed him because with all of his evident college guy normalities, he had a blatant unicorn-esque quality about him that made it humanly insufferable to look away. 

You know when you’re across the room from someone and you feel the unexplainable phenomenon of someone looking at you so you turn to look at them? Well, he must have felt that phenomenon from across the street. I don’t know if phenomenons have a maximum distance capacity but luckily this one was within the allotted boundaries of phenomenons. Not even a flock of wild flamingos bounding down the street could have tore my gaze from the unicorn man at this slow motion moment. After thoroughly securing that I had no hitches about flagrantly seeming interested, the phenomenon materialized as he turned to me and our eyes matched from across the street. 

Our gaze held despite each step away he took. I’m confident an outsider would think this particular occurrence mildly awkward, but the more we saw of each other the more it seemed the synchronized interest flourished. “Who are you? What made you the way you are? What are the hidden bits of you? Have we met before? When, where? Could you mean something real to me? You look like my type, and that’s exciting. Are you kind? Are you interested in me? Why are we still looking at each other? Do you think I am a creep? Is this weird? Will I ever meet you? Where or how? What is your daily routine? Where are you going? Who are you?” I didn’t shy away from the gaze, and neither did he, because it wasn’t uncomfortable, it was absolutely necessary; not even necessary, it was obligatory.  And after the thousands of unanswered questions passed through my mind, the time came where he had to either stop walking or turn the corner.

And he turned. 

And then he was gone. 

And in that moment I felt myself change. 

 And I think maybe I felt awake, for the first time in a long time. 

That’s the beautiful and terrifying thing about magic, it is wholly out of your control, and indisputably fated.

Sunday, May 25, 2014


Today we had a lesson about gratitude. From a lady who just lost her 12 year old nephew. LAST WEEK.

Her sister, (his mother) was also in attendance and bore her testimony of how she definitely wished this would never have happened, but how she was grateful for the strength and love this experience has brought to her family. She spoke weepy but faithful. I could literally FEEL the Lords presence holding her up as she sat in her chair, supporting her. I could feel His love for her and her family as she spoke.  You could feel that her heart was completely and in all its entirety broken, but that she was being comforted before my very eyes, with every grateful, wise, and humble word she spoke.

She wasn't in sweats crying in her bed (which let's be honest, is where I would be for months, I'm positive). She was up, dressed, speaking sadly but strong, and in church testifying of her gratitude to the Lord, literally 6 days after her son had been taken in a tragic accident. Her and her sister stood together and voiced "we are a forever family." The unity and strength was more factual than the laws of gravity, there was no denying that they would be together again. They knew it, testified of it like each mornings imminent sunrise, and in turn seeing them, we all knew it.

How grateful I am of this woman's example of strength. I didn't talk to her, I will probably never see her again or meet her, but her diligence, faith and strength I will never forget. The strength of mothers guys, not an army of thousands could match it, I'm positive.

I can't express my gratitude for the Relief Society and the strength of women. I have never met stronger, more beautiful women than I have encountering the diligent, loving women who know the Lord as their best friend, their support, their father. I guess all I really wanted to say is thank you. Thank you to the women who choose everyday to continue to try to be better. You inspire me. Heroins are not just ladies who do grandiose things, I think the most beautiful heroins are those who simply choose to push against the urge to give up on hard things, and each day continue to try; be it to progress, to continue to love people, and to hold onto hope instead of anger. The grateful in spirit.

Could I suggest that we see gratitude as a disposition, a way of life that stands independent of our current situation? In other words, I’m suggesting that instead of being thankful for things, we focus on being thankful in our circumstances—whatever they may be.