A summer beneath the trees

How have I managed…

…to stay away for so long ?
Sometimes I feel like the words are overflowing from me. Other times I feel like every thing I have to say is epitomized through the act of living. And it’s beautiful.

Don’t you ever wish…

…that you could just start over ? I was talking to my mother yesterday; it was her birthday. I asked her if she remembered how she felt when she was young and if she ever imagined that she would be where she was now.

She told me that she remembers everything from the past, and I believe her, because she never forgets. She said she remembers going to school and being shy. She recalled meeting my father and knowing that she loved him, even when they were just kids living across the street from each other in the big city in Vietnam. I especially enjoyed how she laughed and confided in me that she knew that he was the only man she would love and made me swear not to tell him, so that she may still continue to make fun of how dorky he was as a kid.

My mother told me that she never imagined that she would be where she was now, living in the midwest of the great United States of America. She never thought she would struggle the way she does now. And she never imagined that what is considered half her life would pass her by so quickly. 

I feel like I’m already losing track of my days. I’ve been told that with adulthood comes routine, and with routine comes loss. Sure, a routine may allow you to keep track of all the things you need to do and all the things you ought to be doing, but it strips you of that sense of adventure. What you lose when you fall into routine is waking up and feeling like it’s a new day.

I don’t want to forget that it’s a new day. Every day is a new day.

I’m still so painfully young. And if all goes as planned, I’ll still have many more years ahead of me. Still, the years go by so fast, and I seem to learn so slow.

“I regret that it takes a lifetime to learn how to live.”

All the time, I wish I could start over. I don’t want to do anything differently. Everything that happened in the past has made me who I am today. The reason I wish I could do it all again is because I just want to experience it. I want to play that scene again. There’s no pause button on life, but there should be.

I want to experience all the tragedies so I can smile even wider during the great times. I want to feel the hot pavement on the soles of my bare feet when I’m running up the driveway during the summer. And I want to fall in love over and over again with life.

I don’t think there’s anything more beautiful than being able to live and breath and think and love. And love. And love. And love.

When I’m 51, my mother’s age, I want to look back on my life and feel the same surprise that she did. I want to remember everything vividly and smile about it. And I want to not understand how life passed me by so quickly because I was enjoying it too much to notice my days slipping away. And I want to look ahead and continue to grow.

All the time I wish I could start over. All the time.

It’s quite early in the morning…

…I haven’t attempted to sleep yet. The birds are outside my window, finding love.

I’ve finally stopped being bombarded by swallows. I swear the heavens were trying to send me hundreds of signs in the form of bird, and it was scary. 

And I have found that I am a limerent lover and suspect that I will always be. My heels will fly over my head as quickly as ever, and my heart will beat right out of my rib cage. I’ll tear men apart as I always do, as if I’m searching for something deeper…but what is under the skin doesn’t appeal to me.

I must be infatuated with an idea. The idea of love. The idea of happiness.

I think I will always be looking for something, but I don’t think I will ever know what that is, and so I don’t think I will ever find it. Maybe I am looking for love or happiness, but I don’t think I can find something that I can’t even define. 

Perhaps it will always be present, surrounding me. And perhaps I will never see it or feel it because I will only ever be human, and so I am plagued with human desires and lack of understanding for true necessity.

Forever.

I was terrified…

…to look at you today.
See, I was scared of all the words I couldn’t say.
I was scared I’d fall into a million pieces,
and you would think that I was beneath this.
I was scared your eyes would crumble me to my knees,
and I’d beg for your love the way I would in my dreams.

And you would have me.

But I’m too scared to dream because dreaming hasn’t gotten me anywhere.
I’ve found that dreams don’t come true. They only linger when all is gone, so that they may haunt you and leave you empty.

And you won’t have me,
But I will remain yours.

I feel great…

…that’s all.

There are passing moments of sadness.

But I just feel great.

A bird fell from the sky today…

…and it landed at my feet. She laid upside down with her limbs sprawled, outstretched, reaching. Her heart looked like it was pounding out of her chest, and I’d never seen anything so desperate. Her eyes looked so glassy staring up at me, like she wasn’t real.

I thought, “Poor thing…well, she’s not going to make it.”

I turned to the stranger next to me who was munching away at her lunch wrap and staring blankly at the bird. I said, “It’s sad. I don’t think we’ll be able to do anything for her.”

“She just fell,” the stranger said.

I nodded…

After a few more moments of staring at the bird, I pressed my hand over my heart and sighed. “Well, I suppose I ought to move her.”

I reached for the little swallow, but she was gone within the same second. She flew higher and higher and rejoined the others that she had been flying with before. I remember the sky looked so blue. The sky was endless, and she had access to all of its vastness.

He was on the other side of the window, his concentration buried in some sort of a book. I thought of him and how if he just looked up, he would see how stupid I looked as I stared up at the clouds. Yes, he could see me easily. Why, I was directly in front of him. The glare on the window, however, prevented me from seeing him.

…but I knew he was there, on the other side. 

Just as I knew that he must love this other girl. Just as I knew how I didn’t miss my chance because I never had one. Just as I knew how terribly sad I had become.

I thought of how much time I had spent flying over everything, soaring on nothing but the happiness beneath my wings. But now, like the little bird who had fallen from so high, I felt pain. It had hit me so fast, and nothing could stop me from smashing against reality.

It might as well have been me laying on the cement with my limbs sprawled, outstretched, reaching. And it could have been me with my heart beating out of my chest, because I’d never felt anything so desperate. I thought of the imaginary world I’ve been living in for the past however many months. I wondered why I couldn’t be there.

But I felt hope suddenly.

I realized that the bird that had fallen from the sky so suddenly wasn’t on the ground anymore. No. She was out there, halfway through the blue, morning sky, and she was still going.

That bird may have fallen fast and out of nowhere, and she may have been hurt or stunned for a little bit, but she was fine. After a moment or two, she had flown away, letting her wings take her as far as they could.

And, well, I’m the same.

And I know I’ll be fine. I just need some time.

Then, I’ll let my wings take me as far as they can.

I’ve never believed in a greater force so much as I have believed of late. I’ve been blessed with so many signs of hope and love. Today, this really happened. That little bird really did fall from the sky, and she really did find her way back into the clouds. I know I’ll be fine. There’s so much room to grow.

I can’t stop…

…