Closure (For May 26 & 27)

I guess it all started the day you said hi to me. Isn't that how all these funny life experiences start?
I found your lisp more attractive than naught.
Little by little every minuscule spot in my heart was filled up with thoughts and feelings towards and of you.
It was funny how everything played out. In fact, it kind of went down like I imagined a fairy tale would.
I became lost in a strange feeling I couldn't quite describe. Yet, while I was stumbling over words, you knew exactly how you felt.
So you left. I can't say I blame you, either.
But, I have my heart back now, you know.
 -
My hands hover over the keyboard. This is it. This is the last line to the closing letter of this friendship. How can I tell you that I'm thankful for the hurt? How can I tell you I'm stronger now than I've ever been? How can I tell you, you made my happier times happier because of the tears and the heartache?
-

And even though, our "us" didn't work out, I know that what I’ve dreamed of having my entire life, a prince who will make me feel beautiful and special, he’s out there.

I just have to wait.

and I hope, I really really hope, you find your princess.

on love, emotion, and commitment (a double drabble)

LOVE: A strong affection (a moderate feeling or emotion) for another arising out of kinship or personal ties. (Merriam-Webster Dictionary)

Would we demote love to this simple definition?

Love is not merely a strong affection; neither does it arise out of kinship or personal ties. For love is death to self (no moderate feeling would promote this) and it reaches far beyond those we will ever meet.

Only in the 4^th definition given by Merriam-Webster do we find something closer to a complete meaning.

LOVE: “an unselfish, loyal benevolent (marked by or disposed to doing good) concern for the good of another.”

This, more or less, is love; concern for another despite personal desires, despite fickle feelings. It is everlasting; it is binding.

But again, it is so much more. It is an emotion that feels fiery passion, but is not driven by this unpredictable force; rather it is driven by the desire for good in another, a desire for hope, and peace for another even at the cost of your own happiness. But even more importantly it is the action upon this drive.

“Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” John 15:13 (ESV)

Fool's Errand

I’m dressed in my enemy’s uniform. Trying not to think about how long it took to peel the dead man’s flesh from this radiation suit. Or about how green will be the last I ever see.

Am I a fool?

Absolutely.

But this whole life has been a fool’s game without ever an end in sight.

Until now.

And damn if I don’t do my all to keep it.

But there’s one thing I can’t get out of my head, something digging deeper.

Just one bomb. One sacrificed life. Then everyone’s  free.

It all just seems a little too…

simple.

All Our Heroes Fall

      What if you were the glue that held everything together? What if you were the little bit of joy that kept people from breaking? You, the hope, the pride, the ambassador.

       We cannot bear to look around us. We cannot bear to see each other’s faces. So we look, instead, to you.

       And we can’t take our eyes off of you. That is why we all saw, every last one. We saw you fly. We saw you fly where none of us could follow. We saw you fly to God.

       Now we must find some other way to keep on.

Lost Ideas

I wish my memory didn’t go on strike so often. It makes me look so incredibly foolish when I’m standing in the middle of the room, eyes squinched so tight, nose wrinkled in concentration, hands waving slowly and aimlessly in front of me. As if moving those hands through space will trigger the synapses in my brain to start firing again. As if that blank in my head will suddenly fill with the lost ideas coming back home.

If I had a dollar for every idea that’s slipped through my fingers, I could pay you to remember things for me.

Memento

I heard the birds chirping. 

I heard the heavy popping of the machine guns. 

I heard the screams of my comrades.

I heard the cries of the enemy. 

I remember the blue skies. 

I remember the sight of empty cases flying. 

I remember the fear in their faces.

I remember the anger in their eyes. 

I felt the warm breeze on my skin.

I felt the weight of the souls I took with me.

I felt the bodies hit mine as they fell under the strafing. 

I felt their bullets tear through me. 

Please don't forget.

Remember those that fell. 

I Can't Imagine

I have a pretty good imagination. I was the child whose imaginary world was always intertwined with the real world. What would be considered games to some were another reality to me. Worlds opened up to me; worlds unknown to the rest of man.

But there are some things I can’t imagine.

I can’t imagine what life would be like after losing something like a limb, or my sight, or my hearing. I can’t imagine waking up one morning to the sun gone from the sky.

And I can’t imagine having to face the day knowing you are gone forever.

The Intermission

It's the moment just after you put your hands on the keys, but right before the next notes work themselves into your instinct. It's the moment between steps of a dance, when you're in motion to the next step, but you've yet to recall how it goes right after. It's the part when you're smiling to the crowd, admiring the numbers, and you're just about to pick up the microphone.

The tension was felt like a blind man handling another's face. The next step wasn't yet known, but it was only a matter of time until it grew into action.