the clothes that wear us

I'm stressed...hence,

a creative peak.

She pulls me over her head, pulls me apart from the corners of her ankles in a haste, stripping away her identity to the bare essentials in which she has in common with everyone. I lay stricken with sadness in a lethargic pile near the sink, confined to this limited space in which no creativity can sprout. And while she steps hesitantly, each inch is lain with a transparent glue, soaking her in a new kind of outfit, one that takes something from her unlike myself; my color and my shape transform her into whatever I want her to be but this, this  liquid of a shield does more for her than I ever can. With her back in a straight line and her rough hands cupped at the sides she lowers herself in the pool, her heart beating rapidly with each drop of heat touching more and more of that jaded body she has neglected. And she sits and she waits, as if for some divine sign, yet nothing comes. The heat rises, her self lies limp, the sound of the drop rings faithfully,she chases her breath, her heart begs for a way out... but nothing ceases. The moving tides sing in a low rhythm with no avail. I've given shape to that arm and breast when this limpid ocean has done nothing; I've shadowed her soul with a hunger and a burden she can't dissolve, and I think that maybe this time I've won. But with eyes faces forward watching each droplet of residue from the spout of her strength drop innocently on the surface, a bead of her own sweat slips anxiously from her neck and down the glossy tundra that leads to her hip, carrying with it a weight she has become accustomed to. And then another from the groove of her chest, and yet another, from the hill of her shoulder blade. With each passing moment, she sinks deeper and deeper and everything I have put into her is released in a desperate flow. At just the right moment she pulls the lever to begin the whirlpool that drowns the residue I have shed on her body. She's left me with nothing to mold; I'm no longer the suit she wears. And while she has managed to slip from my confines today, I know she will come back with longing. No one stays away too long for fear of losing the person I can make them. She may pick me, but in the end, I wear her in my own way.

"The Friend Circle"

Why isn't it enough for our friends to love us? Doesn't the fact that we need someone else prove that relationships are purely about affection, attention, and the physical benefits? 

I recently did a paper about reason versus emotion; my thesis was that emotion always comes first in every situation and from there our logic and rationale come into play. Our emotions are the most contradictory thing; they allow us to love while reinforcing hate of the same person only minutes later. And yet, we continue to love with whole hearts over and over again until satisfied. But when we're single...can we still love with a whole heart? Can we still have satisfaction with ourselves? Or is it simply a game to find someone else who can do this for us? It sounds like a stupid question, but my friends and I spend so much energy discerning this boundary between friends and love interests and I guess I'm just wondering how thick can this line be that my friendship isn't enough? I'm not meaning this to be a resentful or whiny question because I sure as hell know that I find a distinct difference every time I begin to like someone. I find myself wanting to put in so much effort into this one person rather than spending it with people that I've already built something with. It's said that boyfriends and girlfriends come and go but friends are forever. A trite line but necessary of attention because it's completely misunderstood. Yes, friends are always there but if we treated our significant other in the same  way we treat our friends, throwing them out on a line and reeling them in only when needed, we would be alone forever. 

But I digress, the point I'm trying to make is that if we like our partners because we click, as we do with our friends, then what else do they have that make us like them. I feel like there's a certain point where once you are friends, you can't go back. One of my best friends, who is a guy might I add, calls this the "friend circle". I know this isn't completely true but 90% of the time, when you make friends with the opposite sex, or the with same sex to be fair, you'll never go back. I have guy friends in my life who I can never look at as a potential boyfriend despite any good lucks or loving personality. So in this sense, the line must be pretty thin; you have everything except the attraction. ...but then, this said guy friend tells me that this "friend circle" only applies to females. Guys, no matter if it's a friend, can be attracted to the girls in their lives . I found this nice and clear when he made out with our best friend in a foreign country. This brings up a completely difference topic so we won't go there but the point is that why are we so desperate for a relationship with one person?

Alright...I'm kind of beginning to sound like a polygamist so that's my queue to exit.  

The Purgatory of Emotions

The tension in the strings paralleled my anticipation and I could hear the vibrations echoing the nervousness I felt inside. It's that feeling you get when it seems like your heart is being suppressed by a glass case and it's pushing against the sides in order to shatter its boundaries; to feel just an ounce of something more deeply. And then suddenly, with your breath at a halt, the notes plateau and the listener is left with a completely different tone. The cellos imitate our heart's disappointment and the violins sing to shadow our willingness to step back into that limitless space where we can dream.

I was talking to one of my friends yesterday and he said,

"and thus all things that have been shall pass away 

and all things that might have been, ah...they shall stay."

- Thomas Parke D'Invilliers Jr.

I like this because it pretty much sums up everything in our lives. Everything we hope for is perpetually existing in this glass bubble until we find a way to break it open, until we give it a chance to seep out. But is it better to let things pass or hold them forever in our hearts. Not to blatantly take this on a romantic streak but that's exactly what I'm about to do. When relationships fail is it okay to let the image of that relationship linger or do we immediately have to pop our bubbles? It comes to down to which would you rather face? The regret of anticipation or the anticipation of regret. When you're faced with a difficult decision does it hurt more to know that you can't stop yourself from anticipating failure or is it the hurt that comes after these failures when we wish we didn't anticipate it at all? I feel like there's a moment when something ends that everyone is hopeful; that maybe, just maybe, whatever was lost will make its way back into our lives somehow. However, I've learned that more often than not, if what is lost ever comes back it usually doesn't last; but this is much easier said than done. When we are stuck in the purgatory of our emotions, pulled back and forth from giving in to letting go, what is the deciding factor? I guess I would tell Thomas Parke D'Invilliers Jr. that anticipation is bittersweet; there is a cruelness that acts like a dangling string just out of reach but there's also the faint, yet overriding, desire that keeps us going and without this we wouldn't have a bubble to pop to in the first place. 

Sex Sans Love

Beyond the confined living spaces, the accessible junk food, and the lack of friends, I have this stereotypical beer guzzling jock image that shrouds my mind every time I think about college. I imagine so many stories about the college sweetheart couple that breaks up and then finds them selves magically back together when they realize there is no other companion that can live up to what they had. However, the only fairy tale I have evidential proof of is the drunken hook up buddies who live across the hall from one another who magically forget each others names so they won't have to face the embarrassment of the previous night...this is much less a fairy tale than it is a nightmare on college street. Excuse me if I sound prude for two seconds but the image of  one of the desperate male species scattered throughout the college scene trying to shove their writhing hands down my pants is not my idea of a good time. I don't mean to say that a hook up is a bad thing; at the risk of sounding inarticulate, hook-ups can be hot. My point is that I'm scared today's society is simply encouraging hooking up behavior in replace of romantic courtships. If we're not careful evolution will take its course and we won't need romance in our lives; sex for the pleasure of plowing someone will be the dominating factor in continuing our existence; there will no longer be a reason to "find love". I know I'm going to have 'sex sans love' plenty of times in my life but I'd like to think that I wouldn't regret these experiences. Maybe that's what it is then...it's not that I'm fearful of the male jock (let's face it, this type can carry very good genes), it's that I'm afraid of regretting my decision instead of enjoying a fun night out. I have this preconceived notion that I will feel utterly contrite with myself if I don't think anything is going to come of it; as if I took advantage of the complete lack of love that defines these situations and coaxed it into my arms. I know that I only believe this now because I've recently made a New Years resolution to myself to not hook up with anyone until we are dating, not that I casually "hook up" in terms of sex as of now anyways. I want to concentrate on being single and doing the cliche single activities for a while  such as having girl nights or endless dates with my blog. That's not to say I won't flirt and maintain potential relationships because really...

what's life without love? 

Tears from Teacups

I love that feeling right after you see a sad movie. Not a romantic breakup movie. I mean, heart wrenching, waterworks in play, bottom lip quivering, kind of sad. After you watch a movie like that all you can think about is trying to find another sad song on the radio on your drive home to complete the running soundtrack in your mind because strangely enough, you're not quite ready to let that moment go. And then you get home and everything is quiet; you open the refrigerator door to hear the slight hum of the ice machine while you scan the fatty contents, inevitably reaching for nothing because you weren't hungry in the first place... or in the worst case scenarios, reaching for everything. Whatever the case, you end up in your room in this state of sheer thought and transform everything that comes into your mind into sentimental goop on paper. The spilt tea dropping from the bottom of my cup suddenly becomes tears and the cat pawing at the door is not a famished stomach but a lonely cry for attention.

But what makes me loves this feeling is more than being in that moment of pure catharsis. It's the realization that it's the sad ones that actually make you better because, ignoring the lights and camera behind the scenes, you realize that your life is okay compared to the dejected lives of these people in the cinematic universe. It's sucks.... but it's okay. And not in the passive aggressive way when we get mad but deny ever feeling that way. It's that our lives are okay in every way, shape, and form and that most everything that comes also passes. And for the things that don't pass, we have the hope that they've changed us for the better.

"So now, alone or not, you've got a walk ahead. Thing to remember is if we're all alone, then we're all together in that too."

- P.S. I Love You

To be over or under, that is the question.

He looks at her with avid glances; longing dropping from his eyelashes onto the coffee stained table. She smiles politely at the joke floating across the crowd, not noticing the sadness that permanently has found itself in her ex-boyfriend. However, as soon as he notices his current significant other striding outside the nearby window he tugs at his shirt sleeves and consciously laughs at the joke as an excuse to smile when she approaches him. It's been like this since they broke up, a masquerade ball that never ends but instead proceeds achingly with every minute he's around her. He has found something special in his girlfriend of 3 months but if given the chance to touch that raw, sexy, confident girl he once had, he's ashamed to say he would take it. Yet, when you love someone, is it bad to want that person? It's almost as if your whole relationship is scattered across a piece of glass; all you can see through this translucent slab is how things should be but you can't seem to break through it's hardened surface. So when does that longing become long gone...or does it ever? 

It seems like this disease of longing and everlasting desire has spread rapidly among my friends and I am glad for myself that I have yet to catch it, or rather be rid of it. I was torn from so many corners by Billy that eventually there was nothing left to write or to want. But I had my shot at love and I took it and of course it's still there in pieces but there's a distinct difference between loving someone and being in love with someone. My aforementioned friends seem to be soaked in romantic angst beyond any recognition of an exit sign. As much as they claim to be done with them, the impressions of their loves have not worn and are now deeper than ever before. Maybe it's only when someone else comes into the picture that we have to think about that inevitable question; are we really over it? And maybe that's why it seems so poignant in our minds every moment that a scent comes across that reminds us of that one time together or when they innocently flirt without realizing the pain it's causing us; that feeling when we really come to understand the term of a "broken heart".  

But after all is said and done (though nothing feels finished), we start over with someone new. Someone different, someone nice, someone who makes you feel the flutter of butterfly wings in the pit of your stomach, but someone who doesn't even compare to that one person. So is this new relationship a prison or a safety net... or is it possible that it can be genuine. Can you truly like another person when you're in love with someone else? And if you can, then will it ever develop into something or will it forever be limited until you find some sort of closure. It doesn't help to burn that old t-shirt they gave to you, or flirt with someone else in front of them, or rip the picture of the two of you together into as many pieces imaginable because in the end what's there is there and petty attempts at forgetting prove unsuccessful. I feel like the only time that one can truly "get over" someone is when they honestly don't want to be under them anymore...because as bittersweet as it is, sometimes it's nicer to feel the sad things than to feel nothing at all. 

Riding A Circle

I can't help but watch the clock tick away. I feel like everything is in order and yet nothing is where it should be. I'm wasting what seem like precious minutes of sleep, when I wake up groggily every morning, to eat mustard colored pretzels and sit uncomfortably in this seat of plastic torture. 1:46AM. 

I feel like I'm back where I was one year ago. And all I'm left with is the hope that my life isn't simply a circle; a road that leads me struggling to an end point that is merely the beginning. I'd like to think that I'm figuring my way through a maze; maybe I'll turn down the same corners from time to time, make the same mistakes, but I'll know that it will eventually lead me where I should go, the end of this puzzle. 1:52AM. That last grassy path that allows me to cross the threshold into a completely new world. I have no idea what that world will be but I'd like to think it's something that mirrors my achievements in life; the number of smart turns I've taken, the significant moments that have guided me out.

Every time I think something is going to start, whether it be a relationship or a fitting piece to my puzzle, it falls short. I can never arrive anywhere but rather find myself chasing this invisible tail that has become a part of me. 1:58AM. But I guess that's the point...I can't find the right pieces to fit my own puzzle when I don't yet know what those pieces should be. Time is the only thing that will tell. But the time is what's killing me. I try to be patient but how can someone be patient when, as far as they know, they are waiting for nothing. I'm on an endless loop where things are moving too fast for me to get off but slow enough that I can still see glimpses of everyone around me taking a left, a right, moving forward in one way or another.

And then again... it's when we are in these ruts that make getting out of them so nice. Until then, I'll have to watch the clock. 2:04AM

The 5 Methods of a Pathetic Flirt

 I'm beginning to think that male specimens everywhere have lost the ability to flirt...at least effectively.

1) The Jokingly Sweet Talking Method: I know everyone knows of those guys (hell you might just be one) who insist on pretending to be your boyfriend for a 5 second span in order to try to woo you. First of all, this doesn't make any sense. They say things like, "hey girl, where are we  going tonight."..... This doesn't leave me turned on in any way, shape, or form but instead leaves me thinking, No. When do you remember me saying yes to any sort of invitation out with you? It's these guys who need to rewind and locate the step they clearly missed...the asking part. 

2) The Sleezy yet (mildly) Sexy Method: Here are the guys who use words like cunt and pussy in everyday vocabulary because they think it's appealing; unfortunately I dated one of them and cheated on him with another. Obviously, this form of flattery attracted me somewhere down the road but it's half-hearted and in the end, only ends with a good but detrimental hookup. 

3) The Uncomfortable Friend Mode: I know so many guys who flirt with everything they've got and still leave with nothing in their pocket...nor their pants come to think of it. They don't even attempt a cheesy one-liner for fear of ensuing a change in their oh so stable friendships. But when it comes right down to it, if she's worth keeping as a friend then establishing the opportunity for something more and failing is not going to hurt it. It doesn't hurt to try.

4) "Hello Goodbye" Tactic: These are the guys who leave me the most frustrated because beyond the exterior they haven't even given me the chance to see anything else! They start with a hi, I'm blah, fade into small talk with the nearest friend, and stick in a bye when they're lost for words. You speak english so, use it.

5) The Cocky (deceivingly desperate) Attempt: I have the pleasure of being best friends with just one of these such specimens. They come off as attractive, witty, fun, and then somewhere along the way take a turn for the worst when they suggest hot sex in the back of their expensive looking car, "looking" being the operative word. He says it as a joke but we both know there is no kidding present; he would hop on any willing hetero with boobs and a vagina. 

I don't mean to say that these are bad methods but in my small world of angst ridden, pathetic boys these tactics are of little avail. Keep in my mind, these categories are limited to my experiences, which don't go far beyond a few oddball parties and Caribou outings; sad but true. However, I do think this outlines a fair number of the boys that one must encounter down the long road of dating. So I beg, be charming and follow through; it's actually pretty easy.

where is the romance?!?

Imagine if you could read minds; my friend, let's call him David, brought up the point today that if we were all able to read each other's minds then life would be so much easier. He said he would love it because when he flirted with women he could filter out the girls he knew weren't interested in him. Personally, knowing David and his often sleezy disposition, I know that this is no way to approach the situation. I feel like these days people forget about the desire and the chase, which leads me to the question, where has all the romance gone!?! What about Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy! If these two followed any such guidelines from David's book of romance they would have ended up completely ignoring all potential of a beyond fabulous relationship. First impressions say a lot, I'll admit to that. However, it's the judgmental, mindless attitude of David's that will find you stuck in a safety net of a relationship. 

My point is that I feel like people today stick with the significant others who they feel immediately connected to. Although the immediate connection says a lot, it's the level of comfortability you feel after getting to know the person; how easily you can open up to them both physically and mentally, and most importantly that these rules swing both ways. I know this isn't some sort of divine revelation but I'm following my own guidelines and putting it out there. Maybe it's because I just got out of a whirlwind of a relationship and feel like being very open minded to all types of boys but despite this minute detail, it's something to think about...