Jul 30, 2013

on new people

'And like all books, there will be those which you just want to Fahrenheit 451; there will be those which come and go, browsing on borrowed time, passed around and never yours; but there will be the one which you find in a secondhand bookstore and fall in love with and want nothing more than to share a quiet evening together curled up in front of a fireplace forever and ever until your pages are dog-eared and tattered and yellowed around the edges.'
(a quote from a friend's post blogged ten hours ago whose topic is incredibly relevant to what I was intending to blog about today)

**There is a poem that Adriana Ortiz wrote called Love in Steps that is entirely, entirely relevant and too beautiful and I need to put it here but I'm not fond of the video version because there are a lot of loud oohs and awws that disrupt the flow and emotion of her beautiful heartbreaking poem as she reads it aloud so I'll try to get her to send me the text so that I don't have to use the video. But dang, when she read it aloud to us in the library, I found what I aim to become someday.**

she is of lavender and dandelions, as placid and lovely as a spring morning by the lake. yet impenetrable. frosted glass. you sense something lies amiss within but you are not one to find out, you will never know, you will never and this hurt is not for you to heal.

What pains me the most is knowing that someone is hurting, but never being able to know why or just be there for the person. Pain is universal. Heartache, loneliness, self-doubt, longing, hurt, tears, desperate distress, a jaded sort of fear, these are universal. And I know. Maybe I cannot relate to the situation but I know. Even if I don't know, I have the curse of the gift of empathy. I cry, anger, question God, when a friend is in distress. I burn myself out over her. I become her. My goal in life is to speak to hearts through words. For people to feel like I understand. For a heart to become less lonely when they realise that I know, too. For the world to have fewer lonely people hurting. Because the blank page is my friend and this is how I am not alone and I want to spread this blessing. And people are books - sometimes the cover tells you a lot and sometimes it's a big fat deception. And there are the books that gladly open themselves to people and there are the books that will never be for you to read. And what hurts me most is knowing that there is a sad story I will never be able to read. A sad story whose pages I won't be able to superimpose my own story onto, to let it know that it isn't alone.

like watching a drama but i am not a passive observer

please, please know that you are beautiful, that you are lavender and dandelions, placid and lovely as a spring morning by the lake. Please see what I see. please be aware of how beautiful you are. and please see what i see, do not misunderstand, the one you trust is worth it, worth all of it, will not break your heart
trust me.

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