Sometimes the worst thing you can do is read old love letters. They only serve to remind you of what was, what might have been, and what never will be.
These days tidying up your hard drive can be like finding an old shoe box full of the past -- like venturing into the deep recesses of your closet and finding a piece of your life long gone. I came across such a file today. A file full of correspondence and conversations; of wishes and hopes; of promises from a time when that one crooked smile was enough to carry me through the worst of days.
I shouldn't have read them but I did. And like the air that blows past in a summer heat wave, words and memories tumbled forth, scorching my memory and singeing my heart. Feelings barely dried in the ink suddenly seemed so far away. Where did we go, those people who wrote those words? Did we get lost or had we never really been found? Did we really love or did we only believe we did?
Through my darkest days the words had been a constant companion. They pulled me up when I was down farther than I had ever been. They made me smile when I had forgotten how. They gave me hope and made me believe in myself when I had no hope left. They gave me love when I didn't believe I was worthy of such gifts.
And now, reading them again, they brought such a deep feeling of loss and emptiness. Loss for the protection they once gave and emptiness because they are no longer there.
It might be easy to come up with a blame or a reason. But that wouldn't be fair. The truth is no one is to blame for the absence of the words. Feelings change. Nothing stays the same as life proves over and over again. But sometimes it isn't that you have changed; it's that you never were who the other person thought you were.
Sometimes you fall in love with the person. Sometimes you fall in love with just the idea of love. Sometimes you fall in love with the idea of who that person is or who you want them to be. Sometimes you have to walk out on a ledge and take a chance, knowing a hot wind could whip by at any moment and send you spiriling off. Oh the landing, it will hurt like hell. There's no doubt about that. But if you didn't take that leap of faith, you could have spent the rest of your life wondering 'what if'.
I wish life was softer; that our 'what if's' were guarantees to happiness. I wish I hadn't opened that pandora's box of words and feelings. I wish we still felt the way we did when the words and promises were sent back and forth. But we can't change how we're feeling now. The people we were when those words were written don't seem to exist anymore.
I miss them. The people who wrote those words; who had those feelings; who felt the other was their life. I wish they were still here. But now it's only you and me. Those other people, like words on a computer screen, have simply been erased.
I will miss them... for the rest of my life...
Currently
listening
:
Good Morning Heartache
By
Billie Holiday
Release date: 20 June, 1995
Yeah, I’m Weird... But So Are You!
Current mood: tired
Category: and READY TO GO... Quiz/Survey
It has been far too long since I have written a blog. I actually started one last night but in typical Maureen fashion, it is still unfinished.
But my good friend (and world's biggest sweetheart) Jay-Ray (in real life known as Jason Ray France) has tagged me in his new blog. Maybe this is what I need to get my lazy inner child moving --- either that or a swift kick up the back side!In either case, Jason tagged me to share 10 weird things about myself in a blog and then tag 10 other unsuspecting friends! So here goes nothing...
10 Weird Things About The Human Known as Maureen
I. Most of the time I have to wear my socks inside out. I absolutely hate the feel of those toes seams touching me. Eeeooow, and the seams get all bunched up on the sides of your big and little toe... Can't they make a pair of socks that doesn't make me act as nutzo as Jack Nicholson in As Good As It Gets?
II. The sound of styrofoam being manipulated makes my head explode. You ever sat next to someone who is playing with a styrofoam cup?? They keep squeezing it or flexing it or running one of their sweaty paws over it. That sound it makes!! It would be kinder to just shoot me in the head and get it over with.
III. The instructions on what to do with me when I die are as follows: Cremate me to a nice lovely ash and then take the little wooden boxes containing all my dearly departed kitties' ashes (I have a closet full of little wooden boxes) and mix them all in with mine. Then shake us all up together really good and just toss the whole container overboard somewhere. I don't really care where, just as long as me and my babies are all together in one big happy jar. (Don't even think about sticking me in the ground or I'll come back and haunt your ass for the rest of eternity.)
IV. I have hundreds and hundreds of men's vintage neckties. That wouldn't be all that strange as I do have a vintage clothing business.... but I've never tried to sell even one of them. I'm obsessed with them and can't bring myself to putting any of them up for sale. Although, I do frequently give them as gifts. I love giving neckties as much as I love hoarding them!
V. People often tell me I am insightful. The truth is I'm really just a good guesser.
VI. I not only feed my dogs scraps from the dinner table, I actually feed them to them with a fork.... my own fork.... while I'm still using it. Eh, what can I say?
VII. If I drink Jack Daniels my voice goes from soft and sweet to deep and husky, kinda like Rose Marie from the old Dick Van Dyke T.V. show or Brenda Vaccaro. I didn't believe my friends until they tape recorded me once. I absolutely did not believe them when they said it was me. I no longer drink Jack Daniels!
VIII. I've said it before and I'll say it again. I don't want to hear you talking about your damn feet! I hate, hate, hate when people tell me about their freakish and alien like plates of meat.
IX. I love driving in snow storms. Most people find this an odd thing to enjoy but, oh man! The harder it is snowing the more I want to be out driving in it, listening to Moby's CD, 18. That's my idea of heaven.
X. As a teenager, I always thought Potsie was way cooler than the Fonz. (Sorry Silvia. You know it's true!)
I now tag the following ten friends:
Vikki, Gary, Tracey, Tracy, Gigi, Denise, Richard, Deb M., Cara and Rob.
Currently
listening
:
Lionheart
By
Kate Bush
Release date: 25 October, 1990
Not That Innocent
Current mood: amused
Category: MySpace
Not That Innocent
There was a Shepherd Boy who tended his sheep at the foot of a mountain near a dark forest. It was lonely for him, so he devised a plan to get a little company. He rushed down towards the village calling out "Wolf, Wolf," and the villagers came out to meet him. This pleased the boy so much that a few days after he tried the same trick, and again the villagers came to his help. Shortly after this a Wolf actually did come out from the forest. The boy cried out "Wolf, Wolf," still louder than before. But this time the villagers, who had been fooled twice before, thought the boy was again lying, and nobody came to his aid. So the Wolf made a good meal off the boy's flock. ~ Aesop's Fables
How many times can someone claim to be the victim before it starts getting really old, tired and just plain pathetic? God knows I'm tired of seeing it over and over.
Just like the little boy who cried wolf, MySpace has it's share of wolf criers.
I've read more than my fair share of blogs over the last couple of days and you know what? I'm freakin' sick of the finger pointing and unfounded accusations.
To Jennie and Christine: Get over it. It's not the person you are accusing. Let them just get on with their life. They are doing super fantastic without either of you stirring up your crap.
Christine: Are you sure your buddy has told you EVERYTHING? For some reason, I highly doubt it.
Jennie, honey: No one is stalking you. No one still messages you. No one is lurking in your private friends group. In fact, they are very happy without you and have made such fantastic strides in their life. I am so proud and happy for them, as are many other real, live, breathing friends. If you want to continue and play the victim, that's up to you. But it's getting old. Especially when I know what your role in this has really been, as opposed to the victim you try and continue to portray. Do you really want me to go public with your emails? No, I didn't think so.
So, for those of you who are swallowing the bullshit hook, line and sinker... look for your drama elsewhere. The MySpace queens are all washed up and barking up empty trees.
Currently
listening
:
Revelations
By
Audioslave
Release date: 05 September, 2006
Jo Said. Then Cindy Said. Then Gina Said ’Wow’.
Current mood: curious
Category: Writing and Poetry
Jo Said.
Then Cindy Said.
Then Gina Said 'Wow'.
Sometimes the most perfect blogs you can ever write have nothing to do with your own words whatsoever. Sometimes the best words you can ever write are only heard.
God loves me because I appreciate this life I sit at the banquet Thankful for it all And when I step out of line I surrender my will to his And he guides me like a ship following The north most star
People always let you down People operate for the most Out of pain and fear It's the rare ones Open enough Feeling enough And strong enough To really deliver truth
And it seems so easy But that's what all the jungles And shadows And alleys are made of
People unwilling Unable To believe in anything at all Shattered and sheltered under chaos And the doomsday machine
I think of my father Making popcorn when I was boy (The only thing he knew how to cook) And what a show he made of it Shaking that big pan vigorously over an open flame Metal against metal Shrieking against the violence of fire I used to just stare at the spectacle with awe and wonder As the kernels blew up one by one and then in clusters And then one by one again Til it all stopped
Life is like that A human life Pops just like corn At first a little bit And then all at once And then slows And stops
The act of eating Like memories to chew over The events of yer life The melted butter Whatever poison You use to make it all go down A little easier And at the bottom The black kernels Burnt and slightly open The chances you weren't brave enough to take
God loves me because I recognize the gift of all this Life isn't suffering Life is love But love Swallows us all Eventually
Then Cindy Said:
i cracked my tooth on burnt kernels of love then i told myself ~wake up, & smell the popcorn! god offers an invitation to happiness every day but that ol devil slides between yer teeth n then ya have to dig him out with yer nails and yer gums swell and the angels shake their heads and look at each other & shrug their wing laden shoulders roll their eyes, and have another bite wondering when us earth bound creatures will figure out that the gourmet stuff is free puffy & no kernel skins! partake & enjoy
Then Gina Said Wow.
And David Poe, well his song The Drifter just seems to fit into it all somehow... "Wasn't I the one who caught you when you fell, when you fell?"
cold
quiet
tired
amused
frustrated
curious
