Forgiveness

We throw words in anger and wound each other's fragile heart. My frustration has boiled over and your impatience has gotten the better of you. I lashed out without thinking and scarred you. You retaliated and sliced a piece of my heart. Not to be outdone I threw your imperfections in your face. Your hot temper quickly tosses back a cutting reply. This goes on as tempers boil and tears fall. In a moment of total disgust you walk out the door. The door slams behind you and I stare at it amazed.

I slowly feel my world crumble. I fall to my knees as hope, joy, and comfort mock me from the memories that we have made together. My anger melts and desperation sets in. Worry soon shadows desperation. Are you coming back to me? I pick myself up off the floor and wrap a blanket around myself. Your presence was my sunshine and now it is bitter cold. Hours go by and slowly my emotionally drained body succumbs to the sleep that is beckoning me.

You timidly knock on the door. I allow you in and wait. Nervousness has frozen my body. Simultaneously we whisper "I'm sorry".

My darling you were forgiven before the fight began.

Life Goes On

Why is it that you can be in the middle of a large group of people and feel like you are the only person in this capacious planet? The noise could be thunderous and the entertainment riveting but yet there appears to be nothing or no one around you. It is as if all the colors of your surroundings are blackened out. Try as you might you can't shake the loneliness. It isn't for lack of trying or a half hearted effort but there seems to be no satisfaction or sense of completion. You face a sea of faces most of whom have a genuine concern or interest in your life, yet you can't seem to relate on a deep enough level to be fulfilling. You don't know what to do. You ask yourself time and time again if there is something wrong with you and if there was how do you fix it? You feel like you are watching a continuous movie that depicts life but you aren't a player. You badly desire to be written into the script but it appears that isn't gonna happen anytime soon. You resign yourself to being compared to the dog in the opening credits of Life Goes On. Ya know the one I am talking about, the one that they forgot to feed every week.

A Wonderful Blessing

A tear blazes a trail down my cheek falling onto the letter that I hold in my hand. A letter that showed up unexpectedly from a wonderful friend.

Have you ever had one of those friends that you swear you could not live without? A friend who supports you when the world is against you. A friend that celebrates victories with you. A friend that tells it like it is and make you open your eyes to new possibilities. A friend who turns your dream into her dream. A friend who is not afraid to stand next to you when the rest of the world looks the other way in your darkest hour. A friend who tolerates your silliest moods. A friend that pulls you out of your darkest mood cheering you up when you swore it would be impossible.

I have a friend like that. I don't know if she fully understands what she means to me. She came into my life when I was walking through one of my toughest lows. She listened to me, offered advise, and then supplied a shoulder for me to cry on. On more than one occasion she has been the one to pull me back from the edge as I headed towards emotional meltdown.

She helped open my eyes to a dream. She believed in me when I doubted myself and any talents that I have. She took time out of her busy life to create a playground for me to showcase my work. She helps a dunce like me who can't seem to understand hotmail code when so many others demand her attention. She allowed me to open up and be myself.

Our relationship is unique. I will without a doubt tell you that she is one of my best friends. I believe I will one day follow this up with a sequel telling how our children are the best of friends, our dreams that became a reality will be here for you to see.

Pride

I am proud to be a woman. Truthfully there are days when I wonder if being a male would be easier but it only once a month that those thoughts cross my mind. What woman wouldn't want to leave behind the PMSing, nylons, skirts, bras, make-up, chauvinism, and all that jazz?

I celebrate my femininity. I believe woman should appreciate the differences and uniqueness that we possess. Our bodies, minds, and spirits are as individual as our fingerprints and twice as important. Where though is the line that sends us over the edge of celebrating to cheapening?

If I was to whole heartedly celebrate my femininity then my breasts, legs, belly button would not be what I honored. I would appreciate the inner beauty that I possess. I'd be grateful for my kindness and compassion, freedom to work and vote. The forum to voice my thoughts and opinions. The blessing I cherish to dream and the determination I possess to achieve those dreams. The outlook that I hold on life. My family that loves and supports me. My friends that have graced me with their presence. The men that have taught me lessons about myself and looked beyond the surface. My love for children. The things that at the end of the day cause me to smile and remind me that life is worth every heartache. The loyalty, honesty, free spirited fun that dwells in the people around me. Laughter and how it can relieve the stress of the day. Candles illuminating and softening the harsh world around me. My capability to do some of the same things that men can do and the impossibility to do others. The comfortable transition I make from situation to situation. The familiarity with the basketball court and the kitchen (thanks Dad). the ease with which I move from work to home, quiet to loud, calm to competitive, gentle to protective, listening to talking.

I would celebrate me and not my body which in 15 years won't look the same. I risk so much in placing all of my worth in physical attributes. Sex may sell but what price am I willing to pay?

Memories

A young girl sits on a swing slowly making her way back to the Earth below her. Laughter rings out around her as a warm breeze whistles through the trees. A dog runs by followed by a little boy not much older than she. She smiles a playful smile as a voice cries out yelling to drop the toy. Her bare feet touch the cool dirt for a brief second before she is off to help her friend. Her giggles add to the music that perks the ears of an older gentleman sitting on a bench nearby. He can't see her hair flying behind her or the grass stained clothes of the young boy but he smiles nonetheless. Memories of his children and grandchildren take him to another time.

Shouts of triumph ring through the park as the dog gives up the coveted toy. Exhaustion causes the children to fall onto the grass. Breathlessly they stare up at the sky playing a child's game that adults have long forgotten how to do. The clouds take shape for them as they enjoy the innocence of their youth.

The sound of a cell phone ringing brings a young mother back to the present. She quickly stands willing the phone to stop ringing so she can return to her private never-never land. Her mature mind reminds her of the late hour as one hand adjusts the blanket covering the infant in the stroller next to her. One day her daughter will have fond memories in this park also.

Never Did I Imagine

In my wildest dreams I could not have conjured up a more perfect vision. You are amazing. I have dreamt of you. In my dreams you were perfect and yet you far exceed all my expectations. I wanted to give my heart to a man with a tender smile. I longed to be loved by a man who was tender and caring. You were to be an un equivalent balance of maturity and youthful playfulness. I daydreamed of fun filled picnics and adventurous dates.

Never did I imagine that one day you would be standing before me. I have been given a precious gift, you gave me your heart.

I am so thankful for you. Why? You are not perfect but "we" are perfect. You are perfect for me and I am perfect for you. We perfect each other. I love your imperfections. I love your cranky days. I love your short temper. I love your boxers one the floor of the bathroom. I love your shoes in the middle of the living room. I love your coat on the kitchen table. I love the congealed food from your midnight snack stuck to the plate. I love the fact that you forget to take the garbage out. I love that you overslept.

Never did I imagine that imperfections would be perfect.

Moving On

He paced the small room frantically dodging chairs and couches. The room had become his cage. His eyes darkened with anger, lit up with love, then shadowed with worry. Tugging at the hem of his shirt, his mind raced with questions. Was she ok? Was she still mad? He replayed the conversation over and over in his mind. She had punctuated her words of disgust and anger with the slamming of the door. Seconds later she drove off, he could only guess where she might have gone over two hours ago. Like a tribute to every dramatic movie scene he envisioned the argument, dark night, anger, the waiting, and finally the fatal news that a police officer would bring. He sank to the couches desperately trying to rid himself of these thoughts.

She threw the car into gear pulling out of the driveway, heading in no particular direction. Why was he so aggravating? He was such a possessive person. Did he really think she would spend the rest of her life with him? She laughed bitterly as she remembered his reaction to her decision to move on. He had no hold on her life. She was her own person. She could make up her own mind. Her indignation grew. She knew her words had been harsh and she did not want to leave on a bad note. Miles later her anger subsided some as she recognized a restaurant where the two of them had shared dinner on her last birthday. Before that night she had never imagined that he cared as much as he did. How could he love her that much?

He stood to look out the window once again. He shouldn't care he tried to tell himself she had proclaimed her desires and her independence. Not a fraction of his mind sincerely believed that though. He would always care. Over the years she had been frustrating. She had her days when he just wanted to kill her. She had those days when he passed it off as PMS or one of those women things and just stayed out of her way. She had those days when she lit up a room with her smile. There was that time when he had given her a kitten. Her smile had stretched from ear to ear and her scream rang throughout the neighborhood. He walked into the kitchen, picking up the cat he returned to the living room to sit in a recliner facing the door.

A few minutes later she parked her car and stared at the park in front of her. Memories sweet and precious began removing the frustrations of the past few hours. The patience he had shown time and time again flooded her mind. She walked over to a tree lightly running her fingers over the bark. Voices haunted her from the time they had gotten the kite stuck in that tree. His voice coaching her as she climbed a tree for the first time. Her mother's stern voice as she reprimanded her later for the torn jeans and dirt streaked shirt. His voice apologetic as he took full responsibility. She returned to the car placing the keys in the ignition. She paused knowing that once she started the car she would return to him. Was she ready to pick up the pieces of a broken heart?

His eyes fell as he thought of all the holiday memories. She had given new meanings to "special times" the first time he watched her hum as she clumsily strung the lights on the Christmas tree. Her petite body pulling chairs to stand on to reach the top of the tree. Her voice floating through the house as she hummed Christmas carols. Those "special" times became spectacular. How would he ever live without her? When had everything changed?

The car slowly made its way back to the house. She worried he wouldn't understand how much he meant to her. He had been a part of her life for years. Had she forever damaged the history? She prayed with everything within her everything would be ok. The car stopped as she pondered right or left, the long way or the short way.

He slept fitfully in the recliner. The cat had long ago given up on the hope of undisturbed slumber on his lap to jump down and make her way to the couch across the room. He dreamed of her running from him to "greener pastures". Would she find happiness and fulfillment? He groaned against the pain in his heart.

Pulling into the driveway she took a deep breath as she shifted into park. Grabbing her purse she walked towards the door. She moved to place the key into the their lock a lifetime of memories was behind this door. The door sung open and she fell into the strong arms waiting for her. Apologies, declarations of love, and dad escaped her lips as she cried against his chest.

*This is dedicated to every father that has watched his daughter move on*