A Few Ramblings

It has been awhile since my last blog, but I thought it would be nice to share a few of my pieces I wrote in my journal. For those who are reading this with no prior knowledge of my previous blogs, I am an advocate for writing anything and everything down in a journal. I journal all my emotions, whether it is a short story, a poem, or even a quick little sketch.

At times when I can’t sleep, I will stay up and watch Sam sleep and write the emotions I grasp, usually through poems. At other times, when I am up late at night and waiting for her to come home from work, I will also write my emotions through poetry. I thought I would share a few of those with you. I haven’t had time to think of creative titles for them so as of right now, they are simply just ramblings.
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“I listen for the sound of your voice in my dreams I have yet to dream because if I’m being honest, we’ll never be done dreaming together. This will never end, but I’m not so sure if we really want it to. Our paths are irrevocably sewn together, no matter how hard we try to run away.

I look for your eyes in every person I meet. I look for the warmth of your smile in anyone who tries to get close to me and I fail every time. Because no one will ever be you. They’ll never keep me captive the way you do with nothing more than the essence of who you are as a person.”

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And

“This poem is about you.
Do you believe me?
No, you don’t. Because you know when I’m writing about you. It’s a super-power that you’ve always possessed with such a scary accuracy that I begin to wonder if you truly are standing behind me as I write with you in my mind. Your spidey senses begin to tingle. I look up from this journal and see that warm smile each and every time I write, and somehow, someway you always know exactly when I am writing about you. Each time, you tease me and beg to hear what I am saying about you, but you of all people know that this journal is the most private segment of my life. When the time comes, you will be able to read it. When we are gray-haired, wrinkly, and sitting on the front porch in our rocking chairs wondering when our grandchildren will come and visit, then...maybe then you can read through my journal.
But let me remind you, this poem is about you.
It’s not about your smile and the way that singular thing has managed to enthrall and captivate me for years. It’s not about your eyes, those orbs that I could write a million cliches about and never sicken of. It’s not about your hands or the way I dream of the way they feel against mine and against me. It’s not about your laugh and that addictive melody that comes along with it.
This poem isn’t about you.
It’s not. I swear. Because I haven’t said anything about the way I forget to breathe when I see you or simply when I see or hear your name. I haven’t said how my heart stops, then jolts back to life as I read and reread words you’ve written to me. I haven’t how I have to stop myself and think before replying to you because otherwise, I would offer you anything you asked without hesitation. Your wish is my command.
But then again, this poem isn’t about you.”

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And

“The night you offered your wing, it was at the expense of the moon. Not in those overused ways that people like to talk about. You didn’t offer me the moon, you didn’t offer me a promise sworn on by that glowing ball in the sky or any other cliche. You were never cliche. You offered your wing by howling at the moon, your voice raspy and full of life, doing what you do best: making me laugh. Because you sensed that moment when my smiled had turned forced and you wanted to end it. You wanted to make me smile, if for no other reason than for it to be on my face, and I never thanked you for that. I never thanked you for not pressing into my head, for choosing to focus on the happiness and laughter in life than the tears I had been crying, and for never asking for the details I would have never been able to give, just taking my head into your warm lap and letting me cry.
Thank you.
That night you offered me your wing is the night I will always remember you by. Your smile, your laugh, your soothing voice, the pain in your voice, your warm hands on my shoulder, but mostly, I’ll remember your life. I will remember the vitality I envied, that I still envy, and the freedom to throw your head back and howl at the moon because you could.
Because you wanted to.
Because you needed to.
Because I needed you to.
I guess the strangest part of it all is that I still need you to.”

By the way, make sure you stay tuned for my upcoming blog posts, and if you like hearing these ramblings, I can certainly post more!

With much love,
~Lia