You can take my heart, but not my words

I'm entering my last week of life in Ireland, and though I should be ecstatic, I'm not. I won't go into detail, but it has been rough here for awhile. I wanted to let the world know in case I'm not writing (or if my writing takes on a different tone) the reasons why. My heart's been broken as well as my engagement. I can't do much right now but write from my emotions, yet I have a feeling I might also be silent for awhile. Until then, bear with me... I will write again, it's what I'm born to do.

Writing again

Hello from Dublin!
Well, I'm on my last weekend here in the Emerald Isle and I must say I have enjoyed every bit of it so far (for updates on my adventures check out my travel blog). And, being in the only city in the world where it's ok to be a writer.... I've taken some liberties. And avoided doing my homework. Here's a little sampling of some much different work:

Needle and Thread

I stumbled and vomited what was left of my soul on the sidewalk.
In the middle of a new day there was
nothing but the sound of my convulsions and the scraping of my knees as they hit the foreign pavement.

I found myself on my knees again, this time praying to the porcelain God afraid I wouldn’t be able to praise with the right strength anywhere else. If I hold my arm right, it curves around my torso holding everything in that desires to heave.
But my alter doesn’t respond.

Let the morning find me alive for it’s all I can do to stand.

Today wasn’t a one time thing.
I fell down yesterday too, hooking my shoe on the stairs and falling to my knees.
The bruises reflect a humbleness I should be having
but instead remind me of what is bringing me there. A broken heart and questions.

I reach down to life my soul and then I remember it isn't like a shadow.
I cannot sew it back together.

Fallen Apple

The old stories used to be about how one day
He simply stopped holding her hand. Then
He stopped caring. Then
He stopped loving Her.

they used to hide under the table as if it would shut out the arguing, to help repress those memories from seeping into adulthood.

Over coffee the stories used to end with a worried moral: ‘I don’t ever want to be like that.”
Who was to know like father like son?

Untitled

My breath catches in my chest
suddenly reminding me of the time when the wind caught the screen door and ripped it off the hinges during the storm two and a half years ago.

What brought this on was seeing a photograph hanging in the studio window of a mother cradling her new born baby girl and suddenly the womanly, hormonal, urge to birth a child came over me juxtaposed with the thought that he’s turned off the switch and I’ll never be able to make a child on my own.

I stopped by a Rembrandt exhibit yesterday and the first etching I saw was entitled “Death Appears to a Wedded Couple” closely followed by “Adam and Eve.” Paradox. The possibility of incomprehension at his words impels me to imagine that I’m ok. And then I have to force life into my body. To force my breakfast down:
two stales pieces of toast,
a chocolate bar,
and bitter, watery coffee.

I threatened it to stay down thinking that the repugnancy of the bile in the back of my throat might help me stop believing in the beautiful.

But then I remember what it felt like when he kissed me with his soft, strong hands curving into my jaw.
And I taste it.

Banishing my mind

Waking up this morning, I realized I was ready for the day to be over. How easy it would have been to roll over towards the window, curl the blanket up around my chin, and fall back asleep. As much as I didn't want too, I ended up in the shower and here I now sit at the library trying to keep my eyes open.

I've been so exhausted lately, which is probable considering that I'm in Ireland and I'm doing a million different things every day. It just feels like I'm having trouble resting and getting into the swing of the days. I'm not used to not having a routine, and though I quite like it, I feel like my mind is screaming at me. Telling me to make a routine and stick to it, instead of just going with the flow. Which is the purpose of the trip. Though it's hard, I'm refusing trying to make a routine because I want life, in these few short weeks, to just happen to me. 

I'm also having trouble finding my running outlet. The weather is perfect enough to run in, when it isn't rainy or windy, but again, it was hard to tie my running shoes this morning and so I skipped it. I still feel a little odd today, like I do want the day to be over, which is really, when I think about it, a horrible feeling. It's just one of those days when I hate my hair, my clothes, etc...When life is already this short, why would I want to hurry up and miss out on the chance of a day? Who knows what could happen today, as long as I just let it. I have to keep my eyes wide and know that there is purpose, otherwise I wouldn't have woken up. 

I'm not supposed to worry about what I'll wear or eat or drink because it's so trivial in this life, and I shouldn't be worrying about anything anyway. But, I think this is just my mind pulling at home a little. I miss everyone, but I think subconsciously, I miss stressing and worrying and having a nice little routine. How ridiculous am I? I had a small panic attack Friday night but I calmed myself out of it. Sometimes it's just hard to get a little alone time here and I think my mind needs it. But to subconsciously miss stressing and worrying? I really do need to center my mind and fix that. I don't want stress and worry to lead me to a shorter life. I want to enjoy it and be carefree.

I'm going to go grab some coffee and read a little, and hopefully breathe. I can't do my yoga much here but I'm finding out that breathing is coming easier to me and it really does center me. If the rain holds out I might also venture off a little bit tonight, just to get out and away.

I am learning though that life is so much better without worrying, and stress, and routine... as long as I just take time to breathe and open my eyes. It's just a fight with myself to get it all out of my mind. 

Thought on a Friday

I've got a one track mind this morning as I start my Friday.

1. I'm going to Galway!! It's my first full weekend in the country and the class as a whole is traveling to Galway to see some amazing sights. I believe today we'll be stopping at the Cliffs of Moher, look for pictures soon. I have a feeling I'll be running into a lot of sheep as well...

3 Thoughts on a Friday

1. Ok, so I'm posting this actually on a Sunday but I'm backdating it for Friday. I realized in all of my excitement that I had forgotten to get my thoughts out. Excitement you ask? I mean, really... you couldn't tell that I have excited about going to Ireland at all, I really haven't mentioned it much. ha! But, that's what I was doing Friday, flying to Ireland.














2. The flight itself wasn't too bad, but it did seem long after the fact. And two days later, I'm still slightly feeling the jet lag. I watched about two movies, Riverdance, and some T.V shows on the flight. I couldn't sleep at all!

3. I'm now in Ireland! What more can I say? It's green, and wonderful, and amazing. Check out the travel blog for more.

Quebec National Day

Well, today is one of those days where my klutzyness is abound in everything I do. But, I refuse to let it get to me, despite having problems breathing. I did something last night or while I was sleeping, but I woke up with my back muscles completely tight around my middle back. It feels like they are squeezing me and I'm having trouble taking deep breaths. It's not too painful, just kind of annoying.
Then I spilled my oatmeal all over the floor (before it was cooked thank you) and had to sweep all of that up. And I feel like I'm running late... but that could be because I'm writing instead of getting ready.

I'm not letting it get to me, which is new in my life. Usually I'd be grumpy and blah for the rest of the day, but being happy and learning to deal with little things is a choice. There's no reason I shouldn't choose to be happy when life around me is alive and beautiful. Sure, there are ups and downs and stressful situations, but those are only what we make of them. I once heard that true character is revealed in the middle of desperation (or something like that) and I really think it is true. When bad things happen (little or big) our heart shows. It is who we are in the face of adversity that sheds light to other people's eyes and opens their hearts.
So bring on the day, bring on the klutzyness, and bring on another crazy afternoon of work... My heart is ready to start talking. As soon as I get some coffee that is.

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.
Romans 8:28
Have a beautiful day!

Love affair with a storybook character

I had another Twilight-esque dream last night and I won't mind if they never stop. This one was very different than my last one; it's almost as if I'm taking Bella's dreams from the book and recreating them. I am rereading New Moon right now and I'm picking up on a lot of little things about Jacob that I didn't the first time through. I think I was just so anxious for Edward to show up again that I skimmed over Jacob. I let him into my heart in the third book and now that I'm reading this story again, I'm definitely torn. I love Edward for Bella, he makes her happy and she is everything to him. They are soul mates. But Jacob does something Edward can't do. He makes Bella warm. I've been paying more attention to her thoughts (I'm only 5 chapters in) but once she reconnects with Jacob she is a different person. He makes her happy and brings her laughter back, and when she is with him she immediately feels at peace. I know his werewolfism is what really makes her feel warm, but there's just a warmth about her personality when she is with him.
Where this is all going is back to my dream. It was more about Jacob than Edward this time. I'll write what I remember:
I don't know how I got here or what led to this part, but I was in the water under a huge metal bridge. Only the water was quite high because I was close to some of the underneath support beams. There were two people sitting on the beams, a male and female. Of course they were vampires--I'm thinking a Victoria/James relation here. All I remember is that the male was gorgeous and I wanted to be with him, but he wasn't Edward. He wanted to kill me and so had twisted my thoughts to him. Somehow, I snapped out of it and he flew down to the water to talk to me, kind of an evil, teasing kind of talk. For some reason they were waiting out my death--waiting for someone or something. I kept screaming for Jacob, sometimes I would call him a different name. I wanted him to rescue me. Everything was dark and dreary and I needed the sun he brought. After a long while, I got really scared because I didn't think he could hear me in the distant forest. I knew I was doomed and just gave in. I think that's what the vampires were waiting for, for me to give over and just drown. I whispered "I love Jacob, I forgive you," took one last breath and just tried to sink. I flickered my eyes open under water and there was the male vampire, staring at me with a little I've won" smirk. His eyes had changed to black, he was ready for me. I tried screaming (even though I was under water) and the next thing I knew, I saw a huge shadow pass over the top of the water, pressure from someone jumping in, and I was being pulled up and out of the water. I kind of got flung onto the road, but I didn't fall hard or get hurt. He was careful and it was a soft throw, compassionate. I remember hearing some growling noises and such, and I knew it was Jacob taking care of the other two. I curled into a ball and lay there on the street waiting for him. Finally, he came around the end of the bridge (in human form) and of course without a shirt. That didn't bother me at all. He was so tall and copper colored and gorgeous. He scooped me up, easily, and cradled me like a child. He ran his right hand through my wet hair kissing me on the forehead. I was immediately warm. I remember that feeling very strongly. I know what Bella must feel like to be in his presence because it was an amazing warmth of sun, of strength, security, and love.
"Why did you give up on me?" he asked.
"I didn't think you could hear me...I didn't want you to risk being hurt." (Typical Bella type answer...sacrificing myself for him)
"He shook his head, looked at me with such compassionate eyes and said,"I can hear you wherever I am and I would die to save you." Then he leaned his head down and met my lips. The first part of the kiss was beyond this world, literally the best thing I've ever felt, and I'm sure the second half would have been just as wonderful except that I can't remember anything else.

Sometimes I dream so vividly. But I'm glad it was a good dream. I have no reason not to love Jacob Black now and I'm very, very torn in Bella's love affair. I'm beginning to have one of my own with these characters and though I'm very excited for Breaking Dawn, I'm a little nervous about it too. I really want to like the ending to the book. I'm not sure if I want Bella with Edward or Jacob now, it's a tough choice, but I hope Stephenie Meyer makes the right one. You know the one when you're reading and all you can say is, 'it was supposed to happen like this...there was no other way.' I hope it will be worth waiting for, whoever Bella ends up with, otherwise, I'm going to write my own ending.

4thoughts on a Friday

1. I am leaving for Ireland in one week. That's seven days. That's next Friday. Oh my gosh, I need to leave today. I don't think I can hang on for one more week. I still have to pack, but I'm afraid I'm going to let all of my emotions start to get to me. There's so many going on in my head right now I can't think straight.

2. Which is bad because I have another Chemistry test in 1 hour and 45 minutes. This week of learning made absolutely no sense to me. It's quite funny because we started to learn about organic chemistry and lots of different compounds, and in the process of creating compounds and writing them, you use a lot of letters. Now, as a word lover this should be right up my alley, right? WRONG. I have never seen a bunch of letters make such a jumbled mess in my life, especially when I start connecting them with little lines and they get bigger and more confusing as we go along. Wish me luck as I go study (which I WILL do more of this morning).

3. Back to Ireland (because I can't seem to get away) I definitely had a break down last night and I'm feeling the effects of this not sleeping business again. I am so excited to be leaving and for the opportunity, but I vomited up every little piece of stress possible last night. I don't understand how I have such a hard time relaxing and taking things easy. I'm a planner and I think it drives me crazy. I guess I feel like I have so much going on in the next six months that I'm trying to plan everything out (and even beyond that time frame) so I can have a nice little schedule of life and no stress...except all that stupid planning stresses me out MORE. I do mean what I said in my goodbye letter. I hope Ireland changes me and helps me embrace life for now and not six months down the road. I want to take life with the flow and stop planning and stressing. I think, I just need a forced time to do that.

4. The last episode I get to watch of Army Wives is on Sunday. I'm sad. I will miss my Sunday nights while I'm gone, BUT I'm taping while I'm away. I figure I even need to get away from that for awhile.

5. 42 days until Breaking Dawn. I'm buying it and attending a release party in Ireland if I can. :) I'll read the whole thing on the plane trip back probably.

A deployment of dirty clothes

The bathtub was filled to the brim with bubbles, the scent of lavender hung in the air, and there was a little Debussy playing in the background. It was the first time in a while since I had cried.

***

Recently, I've been getting comments on my blogs from readers I've never met. Now, as a writer, that is wonderful news because this means my thoughts and ideas are out in the world, being read by other people. In turn, I've checked out the writings of my commentators and found a few more blogs to add to my list. Actually, it seems that I've found a few ladies that I can relate too very well in what I go through as a military lover.
Now I know there are women out there who date, marry, and love our military men... but I never saw myself as one in the beginning. Yet, here I am, about to marry a Marine, with a deployment under my belt, understanding that the future is very open to anything. Not a day goes by when I am ecstatic that my Marine is here on U.S. soil again, even if he is miles away from me. What I don't realize everyday is that there are still women who do not have the same luxury as me. Their lovers are miles and miles and miles away from them missing birthdays, the birth of their children, holidays, ordinary days, and days with their soulmates. So much I take for granted in my own life because I'm starting to forget what last year was like.
There is still a great possibility that he will get shipped out again, we won't ever have any certainty until his contract is up, and even then he could get called back out. There is a great chance that I will be living in Jacksonville, this time his wife, and yet alone in our bed because he's in the great sandbox. Though I pray we never have to go through that again, we might and I won't know until the day hits.
Against all odds, last year brought us even closer together--connecting our emotions in ways we never though possible. A deployment is hard... sometimes I don't know whether it is harder on the men serving, or the wives left at home. All I know is that I am leaving in shortly over a week and I can't handle it. I'm not getting deployed or charging into a dangerous situation. I'm leaving to learn and to relax and to have fun but I almost can't bear to leave knowing I won't be able to talk with him for five weeks.
Five weeks... so short in this life and yet he was gone for twelve months. Some men leave for fifteen, eighteen, and miss so much barely clearly hearing the voice of the one they love on a weekly basis, if they are lucky. As I prepare myself to leave, trying to buy last minute items and packing my bag, I wonder how he did it. When I last saw him in May he sent his huge digi's bag home with me to travel with. It was the same bag he lived out of for a year. At one point, his life was confined within the zippers and how did he ever know that when he pulled out a week-old dirty shirt, that it wouldn't be the last time he wore it? I'll be packing several pairs of shoes and enough clothes to last me probably the whole trip, knowing I'll have it all when I get back. He had a few of everything. Enough to last a week or until he could wash the dirty ones. What did he wear when everything was dirty?

I drew a lavender bath tonight to try and relax and probably to try and avoid the inevitable of my leaving. I've wanted to go to Ireland since I was a little girl, and now that the chance is here, I almost can't go because I can't bear to leave my best friend behind. How could he have left knowing he might now come back to see my face? Courage, strength, and love is what he dressed in when everything else failed. And that's what I have to do. I have to hold on to the hope that though life is short, I will be granted more, especially the chance to live when I get back. I have to keep walking forward. My opportunity to travel has been given because of my freedoms, the one he fights for. I just have to pack my own courage, strength, and love.

***

I know that some of you are going through a hard time, maybe a deployment, maybe getting to know one another again, maybe battling loneliness, moving on in life, or just searching. Whatever the feeling is in your life, take hold of the hope placed before you and maybe, just maybe draw a nice bubble bath. It's ok if the tears and the questions come because that helps us move forward. Without questions we wouldn't have anything to search for or to find. Without tears, we'd hold everything inside and wouldn't let go. We all face a deployment period in our life, you know that time when we feel like everything stops and everything is dirty? That's the time when hope is everything. That's the time when we can dress in nothing else. When all we have is courage, strength, and love.

World Traveler

p.s... (from my letter). Since I'm going to be blogging while I'm gone, I decided it would be easier to keep everything in one place so I've created a travel blog. In case I go on hiatus from here, that's where I'll be for the next five weeks!