Before it breaks...

Before It Breaks by Brandi Carlile

Around here it’s the hardest time of year.
Waking up, the days are even gone.
Well, the collar on my coat
will help me kill off the cold.
Will the raindrops sting my eyes or keep them closed?

I’m feeling the pain
a little lonely
and my quietest friend
out in the moonlight
and I let you in.
Say it ain’t so,
say I’m happy again.

Say it’s over.
Say I’m dreaming.
Say I’m better than you left me.
Say you’re sorry.
I can take it.

Say you’ll wait.
Say you won’t.
Say you love me.
Say you don’t.
I can make my own mistakes.

Let it bend before it breaks.

I’m alright, don’t know how I seem to be.
I’m not swinging on the stars.
Don’t wanna wear them on my sleeves.
I went looking for a crossroads,
it happens every day.
And whichever way you turn,
I’m gonna turn the other way.

And say it’s over.
Say I’m dreaming.
Say I’m better than you left me.
Say you’re sorry.
I can take it.

Say you’ll wait.
Say you won’t.
Say you love me.
Say you don’t.
I can make my own mistakes.

Learn to let it bend before it breaks.

Say it’s over.
Say I’m dreaming.
Say I’m better than you left me.
Say you’re sorry.
I can take it.

Say you’ll wait.
Say you won’t.
Say you love me.
Say you don’t.
I can make my own mistakes.

Let it bend before it breaks.

The moon and me...

If the crescent moon asked me to come over and share milk and cookies before bed, I would. And I would sit in the small space before the curve, legs folded underneath, and I would listen to his tales of how long he and Earth have been friends and he would tell centuries-worth of stories spanning every continent that would make my problems seem so insignificant that when I finished my milk and he lowered my feet to land I would sleep soundly, for the first time in a long time, and in the morning my feet would touch bare floors without a care in the world. 

Calming the storm...

Mark 4:35-40

35 On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, “Let us go across to the other side.” 36 And leaving the crowd, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. 37 A great windstorm arose, and the waves were breaking into the boat, so that the boat was already filling. 38 Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion. The disciples woke him and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care if we drown?” 39 And he awoke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” And the wind ceased, and it was completely calm. 40 He said to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?”

The company she keeps...

Sometimes she would fall asleep while reading. Her glasses sliding down her nose to the comforter and finally to the ground. The book, still open, tossed beside her as she shifted down further under the covers. The familiar, soothing words of the pages keeping watch over her through the night. The days were long, but she found comfort sleeping curled up beside an old friend.

The Velveteen Rabbit...

"What is real?" asked the Rabbit one day.

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse.  "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time. Not just to play with, but really loves you. Then you become real."

 

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are real, you don't mind being hurt."

 

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?" 

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't often happen to people who break easily or who have sharp edges or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are real most of your hair has been loved off and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all because once you are real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

Love is a battlefield...

Thousands of years ago, it was the same story. Boy met girl. Boy loved girl. Other boy loved girl. And those two boys waged a fight—a war of bronze weapons and passion that launched 1000 ships—as a symbol of their devotion. The outcome of the war was the decision. Which man won her love.

The Trojan horse sat outside the castle walls. Waiting to empty itself at the first sign of movement, ensuring a victorious outcome.

Modern day, it is the same story. Boy meets girl. Boy loves girl. Other boy loves girl. And those two boys wage a fight—a brawl of fists and passion that ignites the senses—as a symbol of their devotion. The outcome of the brawl is the decision. Which man wins her love.

His heart is that same Trojan horse, sitting outside her walls. Waiting to empty itself at the first sign of movement, despite the outcome.

Currently in love with this...

Brian Andreas...you are genius. And you make my heart happy.

I read once that the ancient Egyptians had

fifty words for sand & the Eskimos had a 

hundred words for snow. I wish I had a 

thousand words for love, but all that 

comes to mind is the way you move against 

me while you sleep & there are no words 

for that.

She looked forward to weekends...

Saturday mornings were reserved for pillow talk, coffee and playing connect the dots with the freckles on his arms.

Arithmetic...

She took her thoughts (3+6+1+7)

and stood back to examine her feelings (12+17+2+8)  

stopping for a moment to consider her surroundings (8+4+16+9) 

and realized that, for now, she just didn't sum up to an even number. 

I feel it all...

To acknowledge our feelings. To confess to ourselves lessons learned. To stand in amazement of where we've been, where we're going and the growth we have witnessed. To let emotion wash over us and to respect the ebb and flow. This is to feel alive.

Maybe you could leave a light on...

Barely Out of Tuesday by Counting Crows

Woke up Tuesday morning staring at the ceiling
hoping for deliverance from the distances in you.
This room feels like an oven
somewhere south of nowhere, north of nothing.

I'm barely out of Tuesday
seen seven hours of Wednesday
and I guess got regrets.
Maybe you could leave a light on,
leave a light on for me.

Can you see her waiting there
down by the sea with a hat on,
with her eyes in there looking for me?
If you see me coming home turn me away.
Everybody tries to go back somewhere someday.

You kept me at a distance.
52 weeks later, you're still the same.
I'm standing in my basement
making my arrangements
and waiting for the telephone
to ring
to ring
to ring.

So I left for Minnesota
where the weather is getting colder
and people are changing.
Maybe you could leave a light on,
leave a light on for me.

Can you see her waiting there
down by the sea & have arrangements
made there for welcoming me?
If you see me coming home turn me away.
Everybody tries to go back somewhere someday.

And if all this distance ain't going to bring you to me
what's the point of all this patience?
It's not your nature, you just keep what you need.
And you got some pictures of me...

Woke up Wednesday morning
sometime Wednesday evening
hoping for a piece of something easy to believe.
When you live out on the border of everything and nothing,
there's nothing but waking and dreaming.

I'm barely out of Tuesday
there's no one to receive me
and nothing is changing.
Maybe you could leave a light on,
leave a light on for me.

Can you see her waiting there
down by the sea?
There's a light on but there's nobody waiting for me.
If you see me coming home turn me away.

Everybody tries to go back somewhere someday
Everybody tries to go back somewhere someday
Everybody tries to go back somewhere someday
Everybody tries to go back somewhere....

Mud Puddle Kiss, Slogging Through The Rain With Her...

by Linford Detweiler of Over the Rhine

Here's an idea
Let's grab this life and wring its neck with joy
So that when it comes time to die
When we find we have no breath left
It is because we willingly strangled ourselves
With love
Fell down dead
And mostly happy