Alone

The stars shine so bright

They twinkle on my ceiling

It's after 2AM 

& I can't find my rubber mallet

I could try the old songs

But it would just remind me

That nights like this,

At the edge of alone,

I want to set everything

--yes everything--

On fire

At least the flames

Would give reason

To all this heat

All is quiet

Save the fan blades whirring on

And I'm fighting the urge

To hope from kind words

From strangers

When we're so often judged

By beauty

I worry for my heart

And are the lonely

Truly the kindest

Or is that supposed

To read as damaged?

Because my experience

Only sees that so far

Sometimes running alone

For so long

Causes you to forget

How to interact organically

How can you like me

When you don't know me?

How can I let you know me

When I'm not sure I like me?

And I'm a cactus flower

In a lonely desert

And I'm the sailor

Called by your song to the rocks

How many boats will I lose?

How many deaths will I die?

Will I ever be enough?

I have the right skills

And my heart still beats

Can't that be enough?

Twenty-Eight

Twenty-eight. Feels odd to say. 

Today I turned twenty-eight. This is a new year for me. I am hoping to make good things out of this year. In August, I am hoping to head back to school to finish my BA in theology. 

I've decided to not try to tell myself a list of things I need to complete this year. Instead, I'm just going to live. I have a couple weddings to look forward to this year, a lot of Children of Change stuff coming up, and I'm sure I'll be surprised by other wonderful things as the year goes forward. 

So here I am twenty-eight. Let's see what you got. 

3 AM & I Wanna Go To Be-eh-ed

It's 3 AM and I miss home and sleep. 

In 24 hours, I'll be 28. Jordan told me to keep the parts of me I like and to keep improving on the rest. To love now and not dwell in the past. We'll see what this brings. 

In the past 24 hours I met, fell in love with, named, and was given claim to a kitten. Her name is Mulligan. Ian found her in the parking lot of his work. He was afraid someone was going to hit her. He's gonna take care of her until I am done with ABC next May. I think he just wants her with someone he trusts. I'm okay with this. 

I was also said to be dating Evan as well as Jordan by nice people at Bethel. I feel like dating a pair of brothers would end badly. (Sinner.) Funny how I'm not dating either of them. 

Got a chance to tell Shelby we're going to be roommates come August. She seems pretty excited. I'm just looking forward to sleeping on a real bed and not this dang couch. Plus I won't have to question dairy products. 

Now I gotta wonder what the next 24 hours will bring. 

Cliff Diving

Day after day I question my heart and my intentions. 

People ship us. Do you realize this? 

You're lovely.

I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, and I can't decide whether to dive or not. My adrenalin is starting to surge, but I can't decide if I'm ready for this. More worrying? I'm not sure I'd land in the water or hit the rocks if I do jump, and I'm not sure I'd survive hitting the rocks. I've done that before, and I barely survived. I'm just now nearly healed from that fall; am I really ready to risk this?

Know this: if you decided to clear away some of the rocks or show me where I could jump, I wouldn't hesitate. I would choose you every day, and I would do all I could to make you laugh. I would support you as you continue to grow into the man your becoming. 

But I don't think I'm really what you want or what you're looking for. 

It won't be long now before I find myself staring down the rocks. If I'm smart I'll pull myself away from the edge. 

I miss reckless desire and being fearless. 

It's Time

This quote hits me right in the heart. Nick Miller and I are sometimes far too similar for comfort, but somehow his weird fictitious existence gives me hope. I think it can be traced to the fact that if there is a character written like this, it means the writer is, was, or knew someone that inspired him. You write what you know. 

If penguins are black and white TVs, I am Nick Miller. Sure the comparison is skewed and this clearly can't be 100% accurate, but there are people in their late 20's-early 30's who are just as unsure and messy as me. 

I'm not alone. 

This also means you're not alone. 

I say we take heart in this. I say we realize that even if we feel like late bloomers or losers, we aren't. No, we are denizens of greatness (to quote Elizabethtown), and just because we haven't yet figured out how/where to grow roots doesn't mean we'll always be gypsies or wanderers. We're walking towards home. We're following the pillar of fire through these nights in the desert. 

I think it's time we figure out what is worth packing and what should be left behind. We're intrepid explorers of this world; it is best to travel light. What new skills can we pick up? Is it time you learned to cook (or maybe to learn to write a trashy romance novel) or took up running? Perhaps it's just a matter of better budgeting or learning to stand up for your needs, but whatever the case, now is the time. 

I'm not great at this. I am envious of people with savings accounts and the ability to tell you where they see themselves in 5 years, but I've decided to learn to make things happen. Even if my creative endeavors are little projects I found on Pinterest or writing more kind notes, it's a start. It's a risk. 

I don't know where I'll be in 5 years, but I can tell you that I hope to have my BA in theology, have attempted to publish a children's book about armadillos, and be able to run up a flight of stairs without wheezing. 

I'm still Nick Miller, and maybe you are too, but this just means I'm lucky in my friendships, I'm witty, and the whole world is open in front of me. Somehow...this doesn't seem so bad anymore. 

In fact, I think this is my jumping off point. So here I go. 

Seeing This Side of Morning

I love that at 2:05 AM my brain is not only awake, but it is trying to tell me I'm a failure. This children--THIS--is why you should go to bed at a normal time. Like 11 maybe. It will help you avoid talks with yourself at 2 in the morning where you find yourself pointing out every time you failed again today. All the points where you let the bad in, the to-do's you managed to forget, the resolve you lost, the bills you still haven't paid. 

Why can't my brain focus on the good things: finding out a friend of mine wishes he could race for the rest of his life, realizing how close to complete the Children of Change website is, a peach milkshake, Dean "makin' pie," planning a run for tomorrow, getting travel plans figured out for my trip home in June...

Why can't I just hold myself together for a day? Why can't I just get my head around this idea of taking care of myself so that I don't end up diabetic or have the pancreatitis come back and so that, if I ever find a good guy and settle down, I could maybe actually have kids?

I just get so frustrated that even with the list I have of reasons...I still let myself down every day. I am a mess. 

But it's 2:16 AM, and this means it's a new day. I am calling for a restart. Let's try this again. 

If Only I Had a Chainsaw to Slice the Shark of my Brain in Two

And here is the part where my brain unravels and all that's left of me is a still-beating heart, memories tattooed into the cells, and desire...

This week I take up running (or an approximation), spend time in the sun to pick up color (something beyond grey and tired, please), and get the summer calendar together. Plus possibly work out a way to go back to school to finish the last 23 credits I need for my BA. 

These notions aren't as romantic as the first, but both are real and burning through my brain (or what's left at 3 AM). 

I'm tired of being the warning light for peoples' bad decisions. If I can see it, especially if we already had this discussion, why are you walking back into oncoming cars? Are you trying to cause an accident? Just stop. Stop. 

Tonight I got the ingredients for a couple experiments because I temporarily have a clean/safe place to play. Tonight it was Carmel bacon buns, and tomorrow I make homemade pizza rolls because I CAN. 

This week may also finally see the trash novel Jordan wants me to attempt coming to fruition. There are already a few brilliant working titles. Maybe it'll be worth publishing. Ah yes, my life reduced to an odd punch line for a joke no one bought. 

Somehow the only bit of tonight I want to hold to or dream about is the man who is a huge fan of bacon and the idea of traveling the world in a boat learning about sharks. 

Ted, again, was right in saying nothing good happens after 2 AM. Sleep.