Needed: Real Hobbies

I miss feeling.

For the past few months I've been trying to decide if I wasn't feeling anything for anyone because I was depressed or if it was just because there is no one to care for or hope for.  To tell the truth, I am still not sure of the answer.  I'm leaning towards the second, but sadly that always circles right back around to the first.

It's been a couple years since I felt something was right and that I was certain.  Everything inside of me would tangle and dance and scream and explode with joy and anguish and hope.  How I miss that.  I guess the reality is that I miss the certainty.  I miss believing in something.

Nights like tonight I wonder if I'm destined to do this life alone, and if I am, I wish I could come to terms with that and keep going.

I need real hobbies.  Maybe I'll take up gardening like Nick Miller...Ha.

Favorite things of this very moment (11:26 pm CST):

• John Mayer
• NetFlix
• My Amazon Wishlist
• New & old books newly purchased to read
• Cooler weather
• Forrest's willingness to kill the far too large for comfort spider that showed up in my room this evening with a plastic ninja sword because I hadn't been able to kill it with a Kleenex box and was refusing to get off my bed after watching it crawl under my dresser (seriously though...where the heck did that monster come from?!)
• My new job on the horizon
• Good things truly being on the way

Longing

I hate distance.

More specifically, I hate being distanced from the people I love.  Tonight I feel a horrible ache because I miss Nikky and I miss my nephew, Conor.  I want so badly to be in Ohio so I can drive over there first thing in the morning and talk to Nikky about virtually anything while listening to Conor sing along to Bruno Mars.  I want to get to hold Conor's beautiful little brother Quinlan who I have only been able to see pictures of so far.  Nothing is as good as getting to hold a new baby in your arms and tell them you love them.

I miss Jake, Amber and Ellie.  I can't erase the feeling I had when Ellie was handed to me less than an hour after she was born.  I was the first non-blood related relative to hold that baby, and the first aunt to get to do so.  I've never been so in love with anyone or anything in my whole life as I was the moment they handed me Melody Grace.  She was so tiny and so incredibly beautiful.  I couldn't fathom how God could create anything so tiny and so wondrous.  Something so beautiful that I could hold in my arms and love.

I miss holding babies.  I love that whenever I get to go to Atlanta, I get at least a little time to hold Malachi.  I am so blessed with these beautiful nieces and nephews.  They're so beautiful and growing so quickly.


I had this beautiful/awful pair of dreams one night about two weeks ago, and they've been haunting me ever since.  In the dream...I had an incredible man choose to start a life with me when we both realized the risk involved and the challenges marriage would present, but we decided it was worth the risk.  Then, in the dream, we had a beautiful baby boy.  He was so real, and I felt that overpowering feeling of love and joy as I did when getting to hold Ellie for the first time.  It was incredible, but the more amazing part was that this child was mine.  He was mine.  No one would ever be able to take him out of my arms or away from me or act like he was anything by my own.

But then, of course, I woke up.

There's something incredibly painful about waking up from a good dream.  That one hurt most of all.  That dream let me believe, however briefly, that I had actually been blessed with everything I had ever hoped for in my life since I was a little girl.  I had found a man to share my life with and we had had a child of our own and we were incredibly mind-blowingly happy about it.

I have been told I will probably never be able to have children because my body is flawed in its own marvelous way.  The dream kinda twisted that knife.


I hope I have another dream like it.  Maybe that sounds sick, but I want those dreams.  I want to still have hope.  It's been so ridiculously long since I felt like there was even a little chance that I could truly find love and even longer since I believed that even if I did find someone to share my life with that I would ever have the chance to hold a child in my arms a know that that precious creature was mine.

Please don't let me lose hope.

(72) Breaking

You touched my hand

& I nearly jumped out of my skin

was I supposed to expect the

tremor through my veins

I just keep chanting,

'This will never work'

because how could you feel the same

& even if you did

what then?

The scandal it would make

but

what I wouldn't give for you

to touch me again

Where Have All the Wizards Gone?

A Jennie Lee Montgomery photo...is she not amazing?

As you may have noticed, I added a terribly cheesy off-the-cuff bit of poetry...

I use to be a writer.
A good one.
A good one becoming better every day.

Now, I'm a girl watching lightning bugs.  Watching the light fade behind the trees and wishing I could be part of the melting colors of the sky or the faded twinkle of the stars playing peek-a-boo with the night sky.

I miss writing poetry with real feeling, but I think I'm out of practice.

Tonight is a lot of cheerful hope mixed with underlying sadness for front porch talks gone by.

Nights like this make me miss Zuni's poetry and magic.  Few people have ever inspired me the way he did, and I miss that sense of wonder, talking in code, coming up with metaphors to describe love, and the advice.  More than anything I miss the advice.

Where have all the wizards gone?

Those wizards that could bring to life your idea or breath fire and light into the heart of you?  Spark magic into life?

I was never afraid when I had words of comfort, laughter, and hope to lean on.  I miss the reassurance that I was something perfect and magical myself.

Years of my life have changed much and much remains the same.  My heart bears more scars, but I look at them with a great deal more kindness than I thought I would ever have the grace to.  I love that they all tell stories of my greatest attempts...even if some were failures.

I fall in love with everyone I meet, and now I am at peace with this.  Someday it will not be love felt alone.

I need you so much closer...I need you so much closer...I need you so much closer

The Time Is Wrong

Bah.

The past two days have been super weird.  Nothing unusual happening in life itself, but I feel horribly off.  Maybe it is the grey skies or rain or just the fact that I feel cut off from everything.  It finally hit me that I was here.

I am here.

I am not at home in Atlanta, living with girls that might as well be my sisters, going to a school I love (no matter how screwy the people running it can be at times), babysitting my cousins, and loving my life.

Nope.  Instead I am at home in IL.

I am trying to make the most of this.  Honestly, I adore my family and the people here.  I love being here, buuut...it's the smaller bit of me now.  Unfortunately the bigger part of me is wishing like crazy that I was in Atlanta.

I hate feeling like this.  I hate feeling ungrateful and sad.  I hate that I am feeling an ache and avoid yawning inside me.  It is killing me.

So I work hard to find ways to make other people happy.  I have always found that if I work hard to make other people have better days...my days go better.

Today I made pies.  I made one for my family (blueberry, cranberry, pear, and cherry) and one for my church's AOP booth (just cherry).  I wanted to write some letters, but considering how frumpy and whiny I am, I didn't think anyone would want to read the letters I felt like writing.

Why am I letting myself be this way?

Again...bah.

But...to end on a cheerful note: a list.

Favorite things of this very moment (9:54 pm CST):

• Pie.  Delicious pie.  
• The younger cat always showing up when I put together my sandwich for tomorrow's lunch (she will someday sit on command)
• Clean clothes fresh out of the dryer
• "The Tick" cartoon show...ah the joys of my youth
• You.