Loving you

Loving you is like putting my seatbelt on;
I don't think twice about it anymore.

Fri (no end)

We yearn for closeness, camaraderie, bushles of laughs
we think we will get this from men,
yet they never can give that dressed up glee
of sharing dresses and secrets
of throwing pillows
of never being overcome by lusty love.

We watch others
thinking they have it,
seemingly they do.

But I sometimes wonder
if we are all wandering in the dark
and holding our own hands
just to make sure that our hands do not feel lonely.

Reach out your hand to me
reach it out
farther
for I wish to leave this foolery of best friends behind.

and walk somewhere with our hair flowing back from our faces
(and if you happen to be bald I don't really care)
let us grasp for sunlight
and dance barefoot in the starlight.
Let us marvel poetically at the moon,
then flee to a place that harbors no mosquitos.

I want to be more.  I want to be David and Jonathan
I want to be the sun and the sky
I want to be friends till the day past the day I die.

Thats our kind of love

I throw a look at him over my shoulder as we tromp off into the orchard. We pass the trees, their leaves dipped in gold from the sunset, and the grass stalks waving in a cool evening breeze. A flame caught the corner of the sky. He looks at me as we wait for the end of another day to come. Climbing up the power tower we reach the top. Adrenaline and beauty drown me. I hold the ladder at my back, hearing the buzz of electricity snap in the power-lines right beside my head. He swings up beside me with a casual grace that makes me snap the words: "Be careful." He grins at me and silences me in a way that makes me forget how possibly stupid the idea of kissing atop a power grid is. As we watch the sunset- cheek on cheek- I am struck by how beautiful every single sunset is, and how much I enjoy every single moment that I am alive. But then it is time to climb down again, and mosquitoes are finding my bare legs quite the feast, and the feeling of utter happiness is swept away.

As we walk back under a rising moon, I look over to Nick. His brow is set. His jaw clenched. I used to take this expression as the birthing of a thought. But now I understand that it is the absence of such. He has this sort of calm, rather like the sleep mode of a computer. In this mode he is ready to talk about anything at a moments notice, but is not thinking of anything in particular. Walking with him in this state is like coming to a thought oasis for me. Normally my thoughts burn through my mind. They are not great thoughts, mind you, rather just run on and on and on kinds of thoughts. But my thoughts tend to peter down a bit when I walk with someone who is so utterly calm.

"I love you" he whispers into my ear. He gruffly rubs my shoulders and ruffles my hair. I kiss him one last time and then one more time. Which leads to one more. (I will pretend it stops at three kisses for the sake any friend reading this. I do not need to bore anyone with my stories of cute kisses that really make the reader want to curl up and be sick.) And we say good bye.

Whether it be a late night on the phone, a deep conversation, a back rub, a nap, a walk taken holding hands, a ice cream cone replaced, a moment taken, a kiss given, a tear dropped, or even a word spoken in a slashing way- I love that man. I did not ask to fall in love at 19. I do not even really want to be in this deep. However, I cannot help where we are, or who we are, or where we are going. Regardless of what happens- at this moment in time I love him. It is the most terrifying and exhilarating thing I know. I know others feel this way about other people, but I cannot help but feel that I am the only one in the world who can feel this intoxicatingly vulnerable. It makes the relationship seem priceless, when in reality it is remarkably common. Love, however expensive the cost to the heart, is readily available.

Divine

You speak to me

with these pure words.

Words that I could run through a filter

and not catch a thing.

Sentences running on

without cause for stop

phrases smoothly smoldering

warming my cold hands.

You speak to me with this pure love

love that stops my heart

love that gives me pause

love that causes me to sing out.

Folly

She runs around

bare thoughts through tall grass

chest bouncing unabashed.

She simpers at worry

and sings an off key melody.

Don't ever stop, Folly.

Dream of white dresses and long hair

dream of summers and winters spooning together

warm snow

and soft words.

Folly,

keep on imagining those loans being paid off

and that hope being filled.

We love you for it.

Never fear yourself,

never hide yourself,

never think of safety being first

for it would be folly to do so.

Youthful ignorance

I laugh at myself. Not a frequent occurrence, as the oldest I find self criticism to be as painful as walking on hot, black asphalt.

But I do laugh at myself. Because in love, everything I wanted, I have. And everything I have in love, I wanted.

Except we are so darn young. We are practically babies. I cannot pass up certain aspects of youth while also maintaining the directional forces of being in a serious relationship. Serious relationship. What kind of pre-pre-engagement crap is that? I want to be wild and young. Bitterly free. Yet I feel a sort of tug at my being. Like I should build a nest. Or review some housewife traits so as to draw him in. Reader, you may laugh with me. Laugh because we are so young to be tied down. Laugh because we need to learn that we are tied to something that can fly with us.

"Wait for me my love

wait till we can lie

wrapped within each other

then you will be my lover"

Simple truths

We are 19 and silly

what do we know of faith?

Of the world?

Who are we to judge members of society?

What have we done to give us such a sense of entitlement to say who is wrong or who is right.

How can I raise my eyebrow at someone who may drink on the weekends?

Or who lies intertwined with her boyfriend?

Created in Him

and yet so broken.

It seems foolish to think that our opinions of our surroundings are well deserved. Harshness and competition steer our minds to those who do things we seemingly do not approve.

We excuse our own actions. "It was a safe environment" "I love him, and its not actually sex" "I tried it just to try it"

We are not the answer. The world does not rotate around us. The Bible was not writen specificly to me. It was not a letter addressed to my soul. It is more like the road map you buy at the gas station. To get from here to there I need my map. Knowing my navigation skills... I definitely need the map. But because the map is old and it is not a magical harry-potter map- it does not show construction, downed power-lines, or traffic jams along the way. However it does show me the direction to start going in. The map does not show who is ahead of whom, or where to cut someone else off. It shows me which way to turn.

19 and silly. Who are we to judge the travels of another soul. Where do we get off measuring them the ruler of our own faith?