a couple of weeks ago and you're still missing...

for the first time since we started spending time together, i wanted to go home and didn't want to lay next to you.

i didn't want it to be about you. i wanted it to be about us.

i wanted to hug in the rain. i wanted to hold hands and kiss over cups of gelato. i wanted to fight over ghosty and fall asleep.

but tonight, i only saw glimpses of the you i like so much. tonight, for the first time, i began to wonder if i was the one you wanted to be spending your time with.

i pouted in the dark, watching shadows dance across the room, staring off into space.

you lay next to me, half asleep. all i could hear was the sound of cars speeding by on the wet asphalt and your deep breathing.

i lay there defeated, wanting me to be enough to make it okay, but i wasn't, so i got up.

you apologized and i attempted to hide my disappointment as i put on my cardigan and gently closed the door behind me.

all i wanted was to spoon with you, to feel your forearms against my body, and have you breathe into the back of my neck.

urban heart

it's a hot and sticky night. my neighbors are grilling burgers and drinking beer, the dogs in the alley are barking in the background, i can hear a train in the distance. this is summer in albany park. john and juan have decorated the porch, so that it glows. it's romantic and beautiful. i sit on this bench alone. i close my eyes and can feel the breeze as it rustles the leaves in the trees.

tonight, i miss you, our talks, your hands. i miss mornings - drinking coffee and hugging in the kitchen, afternoons driving in circles looking for parking and eating sweet and sour grapefruit, nights giving each other foot massages while watching foreign films. i even miss the sound of the busses outside your window in the middle of sleepless nights.

a while ago, something happened, i don't know what or where, but it was sudden and it all stopped. now, we're not honest anymore. walls have been put up and i can't look you in the eye. i can't be wistful.

i can only sit here, and i can feel this.

coming out

i'm tired of hiding the way i really feel because i'm too polite to make waves.

i need to be true to myself...starting now.

rainy night.

spring has been a time of change. chapters of my life ended, new ones have begun.

i know that over the next few months, these endings and beginnings will challenge me by propelling me into new experiences and opportunities. i'm processing it all through alone time, through books, baking, writing, ruminating.

this emergence of unfamiliar emotions and ideas continue to surprise me. at times i feel not quite like myself. i use sugar and flour to distract myself, combining ingredients in new ways, experimenting. tonight i cannot sleep and am trying to take it all in. trying to make sense of it all is no easy task as many of the emotions i have seem fleeting. i want something i can cling to in a positive way.

feeling.

i cry when i think of you now. you have no fear of attachment, commitment, never afraid of longing for another. you're willing to do whatever it takes. this frightens me.

you're a beautiful, wonderful man; so selfless, so positive. amazing. real.you may have the most resilient, forgiving heart of anyone i've ever met. no one could ever take away the warmth and hope that you radiate - my viking sweetheart. i know you're so right, but are you right for me? i'm so sorry. i feel alone, a girl living in a castle surrounded by a moat of her own design.

i've cried everyday for a week and half. today more than most. i've taken three showers, trying to wash away the evidence. trying to be the girl that makes you smile. you want your answer, you deserve it. i don't have one. it's frustrating. it hurts. i wish i knew and wish it could go back to the beginning, so i'd have more time, but it feels like my time is running out and my deadline is fast approaching. please don't hate me. i've let you down and i'm sorry. i'm crying because i hurt you. i'm crying because i hurt. i'm crying because i want to feel something that i don't.

baller status

i just bought my first piece of chicago - 1,000 square feet just for me. monday was the closing. 

i wore the same dress i wore when i graduated last summer with my masters degree. it felt like a graduation, the completion of one part of my life, the beginning of another. as i walked through the downtown streets to my final appointment, i saw a homeless man on madison avenue. he said, "good morning, happy birthday!" i smiled and thanked him. it wasn't my birthday, but it might as well have been - a new day, a new beginning, the first day of my new life. 

mi mami bonita.

i've missed my mom. we've been getting along since tuesday. we've laughed. she's not that affectionate, but she high-fives a lot and has a funny laugh. 

i wanted to take her out to lunch today, but she's busy. i'm disappointed. 

maybe, it's because i'm moving out. maybe, it's because i'm beginning to accept her for who she is. even though it's taken me a long time, i'm gonna keep trying. acceptance of someone's identity, their inherent vulnerabilities is basic. it's with my mom. i hope my kids accept me and are proud of who i am. i hope that they'll want to spend time with me, so that they can hear me laugh. 

juke baby.

mangos. soy milk. fashion blogs. music. eggplants. pita chips. kisses. juke. chocolate. bicycles. friends. hugs. muffins. dresses. family. coffee. 

challenging. discovering. loving. 

i am excited for life! 

indulgence.

yesterday was a beautiful day spent with family and you. i haven't met a "you" in a while. a day of indulging in food, hugs, kisses, and conversation. it felt like a day of chilled strawberries dipped in heavy whipping cream, chocolate cake and caramel. 

i can still feel the sunshine on my face as we drove around. i can still taste the apple pancake and eggs we shared. i can still see your smile as you looked down at me. i can still feel the comfort of the hug before you left. when i got home, my white, cotton blouse was wrinkled from the intensity of the day. it made me smile. when i took it off, i didn't unbutton it, i just wiggled out of it, pulled it over my head, and placed it on my chair. i sat in my bra and skirt for a while and admired my blouse. the wrinkles tangible evidence of the embraces we shared. 

i haven't been held, like really held, in a really long time, almost a year. the previous "you" used to pick me up and give me amazing hugs in his kitchen. when i cried, i used to sit on his lap and he'd kiss my hair. it's different with the new "you". i lean and tiptoe and you hold me for a long time, then you let go and hug me some more. when i cry, you hold me close and ask me to breath you in. i don't mind doing that. 

just one day

i have trouble letting go of the past. it's not that i can't move on, it's just that i can't forget. an image, a song lyric, my favorite t-shirt - sight, taste, sound, scent, touch -  they all take me back to a time when i was a person stumbling towards a fledgling identity.  

i still talk to my ex-boyfriend's mom on the telephone. when i hear her voice, my heart melts and it makes me want to cry. she tells the same jokes, asks the same questions. it reminds me that she will always be his mother and i will always be that girl she took a liking to because she never had a daughter of her own. my relationship with her is completely separate from anything i had with him. on the night her son broke up with me, she was walking towards the door with groceries. she left them by the door and sat with me in the car as i wept into her lap. i'm not sure if i've ever wept into my own mother's lap. on christmas and birthdays, we send each other cards. i look forward to these cards. i keep the cards and the envelopes in a box. looking at the address, i remember the countless times i drove there and the memories i took with me on the way home. if i drive down ashland, vivid thoughts race through me like goosebumps and are gone just as quickly.  

she isn't the only person i hold on to. i hold on to other people as well, small yet vital parts of my life - some still here, others gone. my parents, i see everyday. my sisters, so different from me. the oldest, i haven't seen since i was 18 years old. the other lives in the same city i do, i haven't seen her in more than a month. i miss them both. my grandfather, who died four septembers ago. friends i've lost touch with, others moved away. my little lady in seattle, my super-mom in new york. and of course, my adventurous group of friends - dinner, juke, five-dollar-pitchers, streaking, baking, biking, kissing, drinking, hugging, ravenously discovering life at every opportunity. i love you guys. and of course the boys that i've met along the way. the boy who helped me move on and let me ride on his handlebars. the one who was nervous to hold my hand and smelled of pot and cologne. the one who gave me butterflies, who tried to understand me and failed. the one who i danced with and kissed on the dance floor. the one who took my breath away. the one who pushed the envelope and made me smile. and of course, the one who i'll always love and never forget. 

i keep each image catalogued in my brain, along with the laughter and tears each one has brought to my life at one point or another. these people bring me hope, make me believe in destiny. another day with each of them makes me cry, makes me realize how lucky i am to have experienced such life.