Moon

Have you seen the moon?

Have you danced in its rays and wilted in its shadows?
Have you cried in its arms and laughed in its glow?

Do you share in its bliss or experience its loss?
Do you feel its warmth or love its beauty?

What could be more nurturing than its presence?
What could be more worrisome than its absence?

Have you seen the moon?

A Funny Little Thing

So. I have a riddle for those of you who wish to know. Take as many guesses as you can, posting them as comments below, and in a few days I will post the answer. If perhaps there is some competition, I may just give a free prize (perhaps a picture) to anyone who can guess it, but only if people participate! So. Take a guess!
 (I made this up, so don't be too harsh) OH! And Jozlyn, no giving it away!!

What am I....
I am very contagious.
You can catch me just by passing by.
Anyone walking by can give me to you.
You can get me through a window.
You can get me over the phone.
If someone in the room has me, then you probably will too.
You can get me through the TV.
You can get me in a text.
I will exhaust you and make you tired.
I usually come in groups.
Can you guess what I am?

What To Say...

I've always been a person of many words. I really like to talk, as anyone who has ever met me can attest, but sometimes...I just run out of things to say. It's rare, I'll admit to that. This blog is a perfect example of all the words I use to express exactly how I feel, but when those moments come that I have absolutely nothing to say, I am completely lost.

Now, those aren't the only times that I don't say anything. There are the times when I just CAN'T say anything. It's those moments when you're biting your tongue, clasping your hands tightly, and avoiding eye contact just to keep from exploding with the words no one should hear! I'm kind of in a situation like that right now. I feel like I'm being...well....watched, so I just can't say exactly what I want to say...otherwise...well, you know...it'll make things....um...awkward? Ya. Sure...awkward.

Ha. I'm worried about being watched, yet I blog...um....

But I still have a bad habit of talking WAY too much. I say things I shouldn't. I say things that aren't important. I say stupid things. I say things wrong. I say things out of context. I just say whatever pops into my head.

There's a joke in my house. Once, I said "I'm mouthy in my thoughts." Turns out, it's not so much in my thoughts as it is out loud! Everything I do is out loud! I guess I should be sorry for that. Some people really don't need to hear everything I have to say, but at the same time, that's who I am.

So. I talk a lot. I write a lot. My thoughts are definitely out in the world. I'm sorry for the people who have to suffer through it, but I actually enjoy it (mostly).

In fact, have you noticed, that this particular blog is just a bunch of words that I'm just writing, and aren't really making much of a point except that I use too many words? Ya. That's a coinkidink.

So. How 'bout them words?

Question

I see you falling, grasping, driving away what you once had.
Where will you go from here?
Down. Up. Or neither. Holding on to something brittle.

Speak. Listen. Understand the words around you.
Stand. Sit. Don't stir. Who are you?
Going, staying, and breaking the glass.

Watch with vacant eyes as it changes.
You change. But always the same.
Can you spare the truth?

Where will you go from here?
Who are you?
Can you spare the truth?

The Cowboy

The moon was beautiful as it illuminated the world around me. I could see a couple other trees shadowed in the moonlight and the gully that fell in front of my. I sat with my back against the tree, gazing at the empty world around me. The horse I had rode, Jay I think his name was, was walking loose a few yards away. I could hear him munching the grass.


I had rode hard and fast for as long as I could before stopping. It had been only sunset when I had sneaked out the back gate, but now the full moon raised high above the plains. No sounds except my horse and the gentle gliding wind could be heard. I sighed. Fully aware of the situation I was caught in.

I had given up, that was for certain. Life had been weighing on me all day, and I had finally caved. I knew I was going to quit, give up, and throw in the towel. I had plans to run away and hide from all society and all pressures. I would find a job where I could just blend into the wallpaper. I didn’t mind being ignored. I wanted quiet and solitude. I didn’t care where.

My chin rested on arms, crossed over my raised knees. I took a deep breath, trying to release the pressure in my chest, but it wouldn’t go away. I don’t know what I had expected when I had finally got out here. I suppose I thought some sudden clarity and peace of mind would just wash over me once I was alone in a quiet place. But here I was, all alone. No sounds. No movements. Just me. And still I didn’t know what I wanted or where to go next. Jay snorted and I blew out the air I had been holding in my chest. I wonder if he could sense how I felt?

At first, I thought the sound was only the blood rushing through my ears, but then it began to be louder. The repetition of the beats was familiar to me and even Jay raised his head to look. Someone was galloping across the barren plains. I could tell by the way the sound began to increase that they were getting closer to me. It barely mattered who it was.

My emotions were torn. On the one hand, I wanted to be alone. I had yearned to be isolated from anyone and this mystery rider was sure to ruin that. On the other hand, my time in solitude had not provided me with any insight, so what inconvenience was another person? I shifted my weight to look around the large trunk of tree and saw the dust fly up behind the lone rider in the moonlight.

“It’s probably Tom.” I said, glancing at Jay, but he paid me no attention. “He would be the first to come looking for me.” I glanced again at the rider approaching. All I could see was the dark shadow moving across the ground. For no reason, my mind started playing tricks on me. Thoughts of a creepy horseman who haunted the night flashed through my mind. I shivered and turned away. “It’s probably Jane.” I tried to reassure myself. “Jane probably comes out here all the time.”

Jay on the other hand could care less who was approaching. Thoughts of fleeing floated through my head again. The urge to see who was closing in on my overwhelmed me and I glanced around the tree again. This time the rider was slowing and I could see his outline a bit more. He wore a cowboy hat, true cowboy to the core, and I could see as his chaps flared around his legs.

I turned away. Not wanting him to see me. I closed my eyes, trying to strain my ears and listen as I heard his horse slow to a walk. It was easy to tell when he dismounted on the far side of the tree from me. The crunching of dirt under his boots and then a soft and steady whistle floated on the air.

I heard Jay shift and I glanced at him. His head had popped up from eating the grass and now stared at the rider on the other side of the tree, out of my view. His ears flicked back and forth and his eyes were alert.

“Hey boy.” The man’s soft voice floated on the wind. Jay walked forward until he was out of view. I didn’t recognize the man’s voice at all. “That’s a good boy.” The man’s words were slow and almost felt strung out. It was a simple way of calming a horse with smooth and slow words, and I could tell this man had a lot of practice.

The sounds of clips and leather could be heard on the other side of the tree. I still remained motionless, hoping maybe the rider would just take the horse and leave. I would walk back, or maybe walk somewhere. It didn’t matter, really.

“You keep an eye on him, will ya Jay?” The man clearly knew the horse, which meant he was probably from the ranch.

The ground crunched as the rider moved closer to the tree. I barely dared to breath and kept my eyes straight ahead. The man came to the tree and stopped at a ninety degree angle from where I sat. He sighed, groaned, then sat down with his back against the tree. Best I could figure, I was looking East and he was look North.

The sound of horses chewing and ripping at the grass was the only thing I could hear. There wasn’t much grass around the tree, so the sound of sand falling to the ground added a rhythmic beat to the process. I still sat quietly.

The cowboy breathed out heavily and readjusted against the tree. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He was young with rough features and a clean shaven face. His chaps were worn but his boots shone in the moonlight. I could tell he had worked for a while on the ranch because his arms were swollen with the years of manual labor. His eyes stared straight ahead, reflecting the moon.

I couldn’t stand the silence, so I asked what was bothering me the most. “How did you find me?” My words were soft in the still night.

“If you’re going to steal a horse,” his words were still calm and slow. “Don’t steal the horse of a well-trained tracker.”

I blushed, not even thinking that Jay could have been his horse. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was yours. I just knew he was a good horse and that his owner wasn’t around much.” My embarrassment dripped from my words. I really was a ditz sometimes. “Did you come out here just to see who took your horse?” Thoughts of Tom calling this man and informing him that his horse was stolen, then this lone cowboy angrily searching the plains for the thief burned holes in me.

“Nah.” He said, stretching his legs out. “You just happen to have impeccable timing.”

“I’m sorry.” That was all I could think to say. I wanted him to yell at me. I wanted him to tell me that he was going to press charges. I needed something to happen.

But there was just silence. We sat there for a long while, listening to the horses and staring at nothing. I wondered what he was thinking, and concluded that he was wondering the same thing about me. But he wouldn’t speak. I thought that if I waited him out, he would finally say something, but he just sat there.

Cowboys, I thought, they have all the time in the world.

I fidgeted restlessly, trying to find a way to break the silence. Finally I started simple. “What’s your name?” At least I could find out that much.

“Drew.”

The word was so short. He had no intention of adding any more. I looked at his face, but he ignored me. Now that I saw his face, I did recognize it. Once, when I had first gotten to the ranch, I had seen him in the barn. But I didn’t know anyone there and he didn’t know me, so we never even stood near each other. But that was the only time I had seen him, and it had been for less than a minute.

I turned away, back to the deserted land ahead of me. Jay had wandered back by me and I now saw that he was tied to another horse, Duke. Duke was one of the ranch’s lesson horses. I felt foolish for taking Jay, such a handsome and young stallion, and forcing Drew to ride Duke, a middle aged lazy bum.

“We should get the horses back, I suppose.” My voice felt soft in the night.

“Ready to leave already?” Drew sounded genuinely curious. “But I just got here.”

“Oh.” I said, sitting back down by the tree. I didn’t know he had wanted to stay.

Again he said nothing, and I ran out of things to attempt to say, so I just sat there, awkwardly fidgeting.

It felt like forever as the time passed. My mind began to wander back to the issues I had been so desperately trying to unwind. Again I slumped against the tree and let my eyes glaze over as my mind traveled to distant places.

“So is this what running away from home is like?” Drew said, not moving anything but his lips.

“Um.” My mind whirled back to the present. I had almost forgotten he was there he was so quiet. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’m not really running away or anything.”

“I see.” Drew turned to look at me from under his hat. “You left your home, am I right?”

“I suppose.” I said, confused.

“And you rode Jay there?” He nodded to the dark horse.

“Yes.”

“Was he running?” Drew’s eyes were serious as they watched me.

“I suppose he was-“

“Than that means you ran away from home, doesn’t it?”

I only nodded in an answer. I was shocked into silence. What was he trying to get at?

“Well, than this must be what it’s like.” Drew turned his head away.

I just sat there, staring dumbfounded at the side of his face. Who was this man?

I didn’t care. I decided that he meant nothing to me now. All he wanted was his horse back and now he had him. I would take Duke and leave Jay for this mysterious guy to ride back. With a final jolt of determination, I shoved myself up from the ground and headed towards the horses. I loosened Duke from Jay and prepared the reins. Drew didn’t move from his slumped position. Once I mounted the horse, I turned Duke towards the way I had come so long ago and headed back. With a final glace over my shoulder, I addressed the still position of the man. “I’m sorry I stole your horse.” I tried to sound as sincere as I felt, but when he made no response, I squeezed my legs and moved Duke into a gallop.

...Something's Just Not Right...

I've been trying to redo my life lately. I've been trying to figure out what I really want, and just failing miserably. I've tried everything to get this all worked out.

A clean room is a clear head: Not for me.

A bike ride will get the blood flowing and things will work out: It still hasn't worked.

Just pray about it: There's just no answer.

It'll all work out: But what do I do to make that happen?

Just relax and think about what you want: I can't tell what I want.

Follow your heart: My heart is leading me down a billion different paths.

These are all things that I've been struggling with. And I just can't figure out what's wrong. I'm not unhappy, not really. But where I am in life compared to what I could be doing just makes things seem....not quite right. I don't think I've really ever felt this way, and I don't really wish it to go away. Because if this feeling just goes away, what does that mean about where I am now? If it goes away, am I truly happy in the place I want to be, or have I just settled for where I'm stuck? I don't want to settle, but something's just not right....

People Watch

He is not subtle in his approach though his body language stresses otherwise. He tries too hard to be casual, but she finds it adorable. Everything about him makes him appear unaffected by her presence. Even his eyes are distant. But he has one giveaway, one sign that he is consumed by her. His legs, though she cannot see them, will not stop moving. They bounce. They shake. He does a sort of dance with them out of her view, but he does not give way to his nerves. And now it is awkward. He has said something and she knows not how to respond. So they sit, awkwardly in silence, both striving for something to say. Will he leave? Should she return to her studies? No. They are both far too engulfed in the other, no matter the uncomfortable situation. But their relationship is doomed to fail. He is far too uncertain, no matter how obvious her hints, and he will never make any advance on their relationship, leaving it to her. But she is no help either. Tradition is dug deep into her roots and she will wait forever for the man to make the rocks begin to slide. So what do they do now? They part with loving smiles and awkward glances, wising for more, but knowing they are stuck in this limbo they cannot escape.

And now our eyes wander across the empty chairs to the other guy. He tries to recover the years of wasted time and unattended studies as his sloppy handwriting fills the pages of the assignment that was due yesterday. But it's not his fault. He didn't mean to forget, things just came up so quickly that he didn't have a chance to keep up. And now, no matter what he does, he cannot remember how the equation once went. Could that have been the day he missed? He didn't mean to skip, but he was so tired. And now how does he solve it? He moves on. That's only one problem. He is sure he will get the next one. But he is yet again faced with the dilemma. Why can't he remember this one either? He turns to his notes but they are useless. He never was very good at taking notes. He sighs in frustration. What does he do now? He puts it away, fully aware of the consequences. "I'll do better next time." He swears. "Next time, it'll be different." But he knows he lies, yet he zips his backpack and leaves without looking back.

To Write

The wonders of a pen are great.
There are many things it can do.
It always takes me to a place,
And gives me life anew.

I spend my time dreaming,
And writing it down in pen.
But it seems what I am dreaming,
Will never leave my head.

I must use the light to my advantage,
But the night has its own draw.
I cannot decide if I love it,
Even when I cannot see at all.

My thoughts, my thoughts,
They are twisting in my head.
And I certainly have a hard time
When I try to go to bed.

I should sleep with my pen in hand,
And my paper next to me.
So no matter what time of day,
I can write all I want to be.

Oh good heavens.
This really is so sweet.
Except when I have to rephrase it,
It isn't just as neat.

The House

The house knows more than the neighbors do,

So they watch it moan and groan.

Only from the sky would it appear to be a nice place.

But anyone who gets closer knows the opposite is true.

It used to hold such beauty, it used to shine with hope.

But the years of loneliness has made it ever so gloomy.

No one is thought to live there, yet she can still be heard.

Her voice is beautiful, but her cries overwhelm.

She does not cry for a lover, like many seem to think.
She cries for the complexity that has become her simple world.

Always in the sun and always in the moon, she is there.

But it is in the fog and rain that the house is full of still air.

It's Been Forever

Gosh. It's been like a century and a half since I've blogged anything. It's pitiful, really. But here I am, ready to express all that I know.

Life is complicated.
This is something I've come to realize over, and over....and over again. I keep thinking that things will work themselves out, and I have complete confident that they will, but between now and the end, things are so complicated.
For instance, there are certain things you try not to get your hopes up over. You try not to look to the future too much, to guess what's going to happen, to assume happiness. This dilemma comes in all shapes and sizes. Guys, careers (ie books!), grades, religion, friends. It's all complicated and they all come with their own hopes and dreams. I love being in charge of my emotions. I like the idea that I know what's coming around the river bend. I love being able to plan my life (or so I say). So the idea that my hopes take me off to a place I know I should never be is completely frustrating to me. I suppose though, if I really had the choice to plan my whole life, I would opt out. I don't like predictability, which I know conflicts with my previous statements, but really, repetition is obnoxious. I dislike routines. So what do I want? Spontaneous planning. Is there even such a thing?

People are complicated.
I keep trying to figure people out. Perhaps that's why I'm a psychology major. But I've come to a conclusion, I cannot, have not, and never will be able to understand people. They pretend they hate you, just because they like you. They pretend to like you, just to use you. They pretend to hate you, and actually do, but you don't know it. They pretend to like you, genuinely, and yet you second guess it. Why are relationships so complex? It's because of distrust and fear of failure. But, again to contradict, no risk, no gain. But why so much heartache??

But it will really be just fine.
I truly believe that. I have this amazing theory-amazing because so far it's worked- that my life will always just work itself out. It might not go the way I thought, or as smoothly as I wished, or even to the right destination, but it always works itself out! That, I'm convinced, is due entirely to a stronger power who likes me, and I appreciate that. I have this really amazing friend and she tries to look on the bright side of things. She tries to be positive. She tries to focus on the good, instead of the bad. Now I must say, she's quite fantastic at it and I should take a lesson from her. What a happy life that would be. Now even she admits it's hard, and not always can anyone be successful in such a tough situation, but man. If everyone was positive, then what a wonderful world it would be. How cliche.

Some Things Never Change

Horses have always been a huge part of my life, but their importance seems to be growing.

For six years now, I've worked for Front Range Equine Rescue. It started out as just a way for me to get my horse fix, but now it has turned into a lifestyle! Working for the rescue, I see so many horrible, saddening, heart-breaking things, but I also experience some of the most powerful and heart warming experiences of my life. I see horses go from starved, skinny, scared horses, to animals that any family would love to adopt into their lives. I don't know how my love of horses started, or where it's going, but I certainly know what it's doing to me now. I work hard every day to help these horses who are unable to help themselves. I teach others how to love them the way they deserve, and I learn what it is I am capable of. The people in the horse world are not like those I've known before. Cowboys and cowgirls are a completely different breed of horse :) It's almost a more sincere, caring, and respectful environment, qualities that the modern world seems to be lacking. I really enjoy all that I do with the rescue, and I so enjoy every horse that I come in contact with. There is not a horse that I've come across that I haven't loved, and I plan to keep it that way!

The End Of Something Good

All dogs may go to heaven,
And some cats might go to hell,
But horses are the friends of champions,
And have a place all to themselves.

Across the rainbow, to a field of green,
Beautiful horses pass, though some unseen.

It's always hard to say goodbye. Whether it's for now, for awhile, or forever, it's never easy to let someone go. I have an especially hard time, it seems, with horses.

Lefty was a beautiful black Tennessee walking horse. He was so loving and caring and absolutely gentle.

But the poor thing was abused.

Due to cruel and uncaring handlers, Lefty was pronounced unable to walk well. His broken bones in his front legs healed incorrectly due to the lack of veterinary attention which damaged his life forever.

Yet he continued to love.

Thursday afternoon was when the decision to put Lefty down was finally made. He could hardly walk and spent most of his time standing around. He limped and hobbled, bearing the pain.

There was no happiness in a life like that, for a horse like Lefty.

When I realized his pitiful, yet humane end, I cried.

I couldn't help it. As I worked, he would watch me. Standing so quietly and gently breathing his calming sweetness.

It was hard to work with tears in my eyes, but he helped with a nuzzle to my shoulder.

Lefty was always so caring.

Friday morning I cried the whole time as I watched him eat his last breakfast. He was the only horse I've ever known who was insulin resistant and unable to eat certain grains and hay.

But he happily rests with a stomach full of foods he wasn't allowed to have.

Poor Lefty could still be alive had he been cared for properly. His selfish and stubborn owners who so relentless abused and neglected him shortened his life with those who really cared for and loved him.

He was a beautiful horse.

I like to think he has joined my own companions, Running Legend and Black Beauty, in their acreage in the sky. Where green grass does not lack its lush. Where grain is as common as the dandelions. That is where they run.

Lefty will run.

Though his owners made him incapable of walking on earth, Lefty will run with clouds.

It does not make it any easier to say goodbye. Lefty was loved and always will be. He could cheer anyone up. He tried to on Friday. He didn't understand, yet he nuzzled me with comfort as I tried to dry my tears from his black coat.

Such a sweet a life. Such a preventable a death.  If only someone would have cared earlier.

Rest well, beautiful Lefty.

Words, Words, Words

Reading makes me giddy. I love being totally caught up in a fictional world. When I'm in the pages of a book, my thoughts are completely consumed, no matter where I am or what I am doing. It's as if the events of those imagined characters are my own experiences. It always lingers in the back of my mind throughout my entire day. Every waking moment, every beat of my heart takes me back to a place I've never been, with friends I've never met. They so fully consume me and demand from me a higher loyalty that is reserved only for those of fictional characters. But, with such devotion comes easy heartbreak. When I read, I have such high standards for the character's choices in life, thus it is easy for them to disappoint. But even through all of their decisions that make me grimace, I kindle hope in my heart for their end. But, no matter how beautiful the journey or how hopeful I am, it is the ending that creates or breaks the beauty of a novel. A good ending is like a sunny day. It warms the heart and gives a lightness to my mind. It opens doors of wonder and loveliness. It encourages and rekindles any dying hope. It gives satisfaction and a sense of wonder like none other. But, just as the good ending of a book can create a world of joy, so can the tragic ending create a feeling of complete and utter misery. The poor ending to a book is like a bite from a poisonous snake. The initial sting is painful and fearful, but long after the ending has subsided, the wound is left to fester. So does the pain of a bad ending endure. It too, consumes all of me. My mood is easily fooled and my words abruptly harsh. My day is long and the pain is cruel. My thoughts are burdened and a bile taste fills my mouth. Why should I react thus? It is merely words on a page. I fear, for my own sake, that the poor ending of a book will be like the horrific ending of my own life. Will I face such an end? Will my story be one to disappoint? I fear it might and thus my reactions are more personal than might first be hinted at. All our lives are stories. How will they end? 

Immense Imagination

Can you visualize a rose? Not just recognize that you know what one is but really see the rose before you? Can you smell it? So many people lack the imagination to visualize such a beautiful creation. For me, I do not struggle with this aspect. Sadly, sometimes my imagination is overbearing and distracting. For example, this exact moment is a point where my imagination has gotten the better of me, rather than the class I am sitting in. If you are one of the many who struggles with mental creativity, allow me to try and share mine with you. I would tell you to close your eyes, but that wouldn't do either of us any good. So, instead, just relax and read my words with an open mind.


Roses are beautiful. They are soft, yet defensive. Simple, yet profound. And their meaning goes far beyond a simple gesture. The dark red color of the rose engulfs many shades of red in its petals. The light is shimmering on the petals and lines the edges of the rose. The stem is long and straight with a full green color embedded in every point. The small dragon scales that thrust out from the central line are remarkable. The tips take the shape of razors and darken with extension. But as the tops are hard, so are the petals soft. Their sheen almost depicts moisture and they bloom loosely to encompass a vast space. As the rose sparkles in your eye, so does the smell tingle in your nose. The fragrance is overwhelming, yet so tentative that it seems it might disappear any moment. As you breathe in deeply, the luxurious smell releases the relaxed feeling the spreads through your body. The fragrance moves into your body and runs in your veins allowing you to be calm. The wonderful smell is so radiant that you can almost taste it on your tongue. Its hard to believe that such a powerful sweetness comes from such a small source...


Did you get it? Did you picture the rose? Did my lending of my imagination help you? If so, I hope you enjoyed the experience. If not, perhaps you should try harder, for the imagination is both a wonderful and scary thing. Easily overpowering, but simply beautiful. 

A Taste Of Something Long Awaited

This is a chapter from my book that I'm working on. It's called Not As He Seems. All material is copyrighted! No stealing! :)

“Wednesday. Half way there.” Vicki mumbled when she finally figured out what day it was. The next problem was figuring out what that loud, obnoxious noise was. She realized it was her alarm and she quickly turned it off. This was the worst part of taking sleeping pills; they made you all groggy the next day. But at least she wasn’t tired, or freaked out about some man chasing her.


Vicki got ready for school like she always did. Perhaps today would be the day things would get better.

“The funeral is going to be Friday night at 6:00pm.” Mom announced as Vicki entered the kitchen. Vicki’s hope of a better day vanished with that sentence. “Is that okay with you?”

“It has to be.” Vicki mumbled under her breath. How would she ever survive?

“Sweetie, we are all doing our best here.” Mom kissed her on the forehead. “Want some eggs?”

“I think I’ll just have a granola bar.” Vicki grabbed the small bar from the pantry. “Let’s go, Jackie.” Vicki called and headed for the car.

Jackie was close behind, a trait that was very likable in her. The two headed to school. Vicki ate her granola bar with one hand and drove with the other. The parking lot at school was filling up with student’s cars. Vicki found the closest parking place and headed inside. Her head still felt cloudy from the sleep pills.

“Feeling better?” Luke’s locker was next to Vicki’s so it was only logical that they met up.

“Yeah. A Bit. Although, I really hate taking sleeping pills.”

“Yeah. Those put you in a weird state.” Luke closed his locker. “Having trouble sleeping?”

“I’ve been having this really weird dream. It just bothers me.”

“Disturbing dreams are common after a traumatic experience like a death.” Luke was going to by a psychologist. Leave it to him to conduct therapy with anyone, right in the middle of the hallway.

“And how would one get rid of these unwanted dreams?” Vicki was more humoring him then actually being interested.

“Address the problem. Work for a solution. And resolve the conflict.” It sounded so simple. The bell for first period ended their therapy session.

“Thanks, Luke. I’ll work on that.” She smiled and headed for class. Luke headed the other direction.

Psychology wasn’t as therapeutic as what Vicki would have hoped it would be; Luke did a much better job in the middle of a crowded hallway. The class was more lecture-peutic. They were still discussing the brain, though they had moved on from the lobes to the nerve paths. It was deathly fascinating. Vicki could feel the headache coming on. It was like an expected friend whom no one liked. It just wouldn’t go away. Finally the bell rang. Perhaps today was a good day to slam her head in her locker. Vicki smiled at the ludicrousness of the idea. Still…..

“Vicki!” Allie met Vicki at her locker. She quickly wrapped her arms around Vicki. “Hi.” She smiled. Not the sort of happy smile, but the ‘I will try and make it better’ smile. This, in turn, made Vicki smile.

“I brought you a Teddy Bear.” Allie handed Vicki the soft white bear. “You can name him, if you want.”

“Thanks, Allie. That’s really sweet.” Vicki took the bear. He was soft.

“Well, I gotta go. But I hope you like him. You can tell him anything. He’ll keep your secrets.” Allie smiled and headed for class. Vicki grabbed her Business book and headed off, leaving teddy in her locker. She was beginning to think a little clearer, but not much. She had run into several other students and a wall already this morning. Perhaps sleeping pills were not a good idea at all.

Business was its usual boring self. Vicki learned absolutely nothing in that class. Well, that’s not completely true. She did learn that she could in fact fold a piece of paper eight times before it became close to impossible to fold it another time. She had also learned that the hang over from the pills, made her hand eye coordination impossible. She had knocked over a waste basket on the way out of class.

“Kill me now.” Vicki complained when she saw Jen. Jen was sweet, but she didn’t do well with other’s pain, so she just stood and nodded. At the moment, that was all Vicki needed. She threw her business book in her locker and headed for calculus. They had a test today and Vicki was sure she was going to fail. Miserably.

She dragged her feet all the way to class, pausing only slightly at the door to take a deep breath. She walked through the door with every intention of letting the breath out in a long sigh, but the air caught in her chest.

Tyler was back. He sat at his desk with his back turned to the door. Vicki couldn’t see his face, but it was definitely him. Only when her lungs started protesting did she finally let her air out and suck in a deep breath.

This was dumb. What else had she expected? Of course Tyler was here. This was his school. His class room. And his chair. Of course he was here. Vicki looked at the ground and headed for her chair three rows behind his. She bumped into the desk at the front of the row, several students turned to stare. Never again would she take those pills, she swore, as she smiled shyly at the students. The pills were giving her too many bruises. She walked down the aisle, carefully avoided anything that might fall over or cause her injury. She was so focused that the warm hand on her arm made her jump. She looked up with wide eyes at Tyler. His smile faded and he instantly released her arm.

“Sorry.” He was concerned; it was obvious in his face and voice. “I didn’t mean to scare ya. You okay?”

“Uh. Yeah. Don’t worry about. I’m just having an off day.” She walked towards her seat. She needed to sit down before she destroyed something.

“You need anything?” He was following her down the aisle.

“Nope. Just a chair.” She sat in her desk chair, dropping her books on the wood desk.

“Okay.” Tyler crouched next to her desk, staring at her. She avoided all eye contact.

“You look…pale.” He said, “Are you feeling okay?”

“Peachy.” She tried to reassure him as she fumbled with her books.

“Peachy?”

“Yup. Peachy.”

“Peachy. Okay.” He didn’t buy it. “You gunna tell me the truth?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Um. Don’t want to?” She was wavering, and he persisted.

“Sure ya do. Tell me what’s up.” He looked at her with his beautiful eyes. Vicki had to focus to get her train of thought back.

“Don’t you remember last week at all?”

“Yeah, but it’s not that.” He was analyzing her now. She sighed. He wouldn’t leave her alone until she told him something.

“So, perhaps I may have taken a couple sleeping pills and perhaps they may have affected the way I am able to concentrate now. And perhaps my coordination. And thinking ability.” She trailed off, considering all the side effects of the pills.

“Sleeping pills?” He sounded a bit relieved.

“Sleeping pills.” She reassured him.

“Well, then. Peachy.” He teased as he got up and walked back to his desk. Vicki sighed. That was…well, new. He sat down at his desk, than turned slightly to glance at her. She smiled. He just shook his head and turned to face the front. Vicki mumbled to herself. Peachy? What kind of an idiot says peachy? Oh well. It could have been worse.

“Class. Clear your desk. All you need is a pencil and a calculator.” Mr. Bernen announced from the front of the class.

Test time.

Vicki did as the teacher instructed, sending one last prayer towards heaven that she would pass. Mr. Bernen handed out the test and the moment the test sat in front of Vicki, she knew the outcome. She groaned.

“I should have studied.” She said just loud enough so the boy sitting next to her could hear. He snickered.

“Me too.” He whispered.

Death by paper. There was such a thing. And it was called a test.

Vicki gave it her best shot. She was usually pretty good at calculus, but today was just not her day. Or was it? Tyler had showed up. That was good at least. She thought about Tyler as she took the test, never once thinking about Jake’s threat.

She finished the test with ten minutes left in the period. She walked to the front and handed it to the teacher. Then she turned and headed back to her desk. She glanced at Tyler and caught his eyes. He smiled. He was already done with his test. Stupid smart people.

The bell rang and the class emptied. Vicki walked out with the herd. Before she knew it, Tyler was at her side.

“How do you think you did?” He looked confident. Too confident.

“I think I failed.” Vicki kicked a wadded piece of paper.

“I’m sure you didn’t do that bad.” He ducked to see her eyes. “Right?”

“Nope. I’m pretty sure I failed. I would bet money on it, actually.”

“Hm.” His spirit didn’t damper. “Maybe you could bribe him to give you an A? I mean, you have had a tough week.”

“Yeah right. He’d probably want a million dollars, which I don’t have.” Why was Tyler being so nice? This was unusual even for his friendly personality. And why was Vicki telling him all of this. She suddenly felt uncomfortable, for no real reason.

“I’ve…gotta go. I’ll see ya in Physics. Another test to bomb.” She tried to smile, than headed for her locker.





Tyler watched her leave with a confused look on his face. Unsure of why she had taken off so quickly. Did he say something to offend her? Who knows. He shook his head. Hopefully she wouldn’t ignore him in Physics. Or, maybe she should. The thought brought a dark spot into his mood. There was one thing about Tyler that no one knew. One thing no one could ever know. And that was that Tyler was no good to be around, and he knew it.

Tyler’s happy mood had dampened. He had been looking forward to seeing Vicki after spending the last few days out of town. It was annoying for him to have to disappear for days, than come back with little to no explanation why he had been gone. Plus, the make-up work was a killer. Lucky for him, he had help with his homework.

Now that he had finally seen Vicki, he had made her mad somehow. He wasn’t sure what he had said, nor why she was avoiding him. Was it because he had been avoiding everyone for all these years? Tyler felt the anger boil in his chest. He needed a punching bag to hit. Lucky for him, his locker satisfied as one.

The hard hit to his metal locker cut his knuckles, but it was only minor and barely fazed him. He had suffered many worst injuries then the small cuts that bled on his hand. He could care less about the students that watched him as he popped open his now slightly bent locker door. The books were arranged the shelf in a messy fashion, but there were only a few books in the locker, so it didn’t appear to be too messy. Tyler didn’t have to try very hard at school. He was already advanced past the high school level, but he still had to graduate and get a diploma if he wanted to go anywhere in his life.





The day passed a little smoother for Vicki, to her relief. She talked to Tyler a little during Physics, though the test put them both in a bad mood it seemed. Then in English they made paper footballs together and launched them at each other across the room when Mrs. Delenga wasn’t looking. It made the entire class giggle, but Mrs. Delenga just ignored Vicki and Tyler, and continued to teach.

That night Vicki played scrabble with her family. It was a quiet game, but it felt nice to have the family together. Things just hadn’t been the same since Wednesday.

Vicki slept without sleeping pills this time. Instead, she drowned out all thoughts by listening to her music loudly through her headphones.

“Baby don’t worry cause I’ll be there in a hurry.” The song was a beautiful piano piece with an amazing male vocalist. “You’ll be okay when I get there….” Tyler’s face flashed in Vicki’s head, but it was gone before she could question why it was there. Then sleep came and she slept till her alarm woke her.

Thursday and Friday went almost the exact same way as Wednesday had, minus the horrendous tests, which Vicki had in fact failed. Vicki was feeling better. More confident. That is, until Friday.





It was Friday afternoon and Tyler was walking Vicki to her locker, it was becoming a routine now. People had started to take notice that they spent more time together, but Tyler blew it off. He liked hanging out with Vicki, and that’s what he wanted to do. The bell announcing the weekend had rang, which released the mass amounts of students.

“Tyler?” Their conversation about polar bears had died, and her voice held a serious tone to it now. He noticed the change immediately and watched her expression. Tyler was becoming more familiar with Vicki, which made reading her face easier. Though somehow, she still always seemed to be hiding something. He couldn’t blame her. He was hiding something him self.

“Yes?”

“Will you be coming to the funeral tonight?” She looked like she was on the verge of crying. A small pain shot through Tyler’s chest. He hate seeing her sad.

Tyler had paused before answering. Vicki looked up to see his face. He was trying to figure out if he could come. He was scheduled to leave town that afternoon, maybe he could postpone it…

“You don’t have to come.” Vicki said. She averted her eyes.

“Do you want me to come?” Tyler didn’t know if she was being kind, or if she really wanted him there.

“Yeah. Of course. But I’d understand if you don’t want to. I mean. It’s just a funeral.” She got to her locker and opened the door. He leaned casually against Luke’s locker. Tyler could smell her sweet perfume. She smelled like wildflowers.

“Then, I’ll be there.” He smiled, but Vicki didn’t seem to see it. Her eyes were filling with tears and her face had lost its color. Tyler could tell she was worried about the funeral. He cradled her chin with his hand, lifting her eyes to his face.

“Hey.” He tried to comfort her, but didn’t know how. “It’s going to be okay.” He watched as a tear fell down her cheek. Gently, so gently, he brushed it away. She sniffed.

“Thanks.” She sounded like a frog. More tears started to pour down her face. “Sorry.” She said and wiped away the tears. But the word wasn’t very convincing as her cheeks still glistened with moisture. Tyler wrapped his arms around her. His embrace was warm and strong. Very protective.

“You don’t ever have to be sorry, Vicki.” He held her tighter. Vicki leaned into his embrace. Tyler wished he could help her. More then anything he wanted to help her. “I thought you were okay. You were doing so well. But, now I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

They stood there, Vicki wrapped in Tyler’s muscular arms, tears pouring down her face, for ten minutes. Then, slowly, Tyler could feel Vicki began to regain her composure. Tyler not once loosened his arms which were wrapped around her waist and shoulders. When he was convinced she was done crying, he let her loose. Only enough for him to get a good look at her face. It was red and tear streaked, but she looked okay. For the time being.

“I’m fine. Really.” Vicki said in response to his scrutinizing stare.

“I’m going to let you go. But only under the condition that you tell me when you’re not okay, alright?” She nodded in agreement. “Okay.” His arms fell to his side.

Vicki took a deep, staggered breath and turned back to her locker. The door was still open. She grabbed another book and headed for the car. Tyler walked her, he tried to smile, but he knew it wasn’t genuine. Tyler opened her car door for her, and just as he was about to close it, he reached in a stroked Vicki’s hair. Pain creasing his face and filling his chest.

“It’s going to be okay.” He said, then he closed the door and was gone.

Broken Toys

When you were young, did you ever go running to your dad, broken toy in hand, crying because you had destroyed your favorite play thing? And how often did your dad tell you that it would never be fixed and you should just throw it away? If he was anything like my dad, that was very rare. In my house, super glue could fix anything; several times. My dad would graciously fix my toys and return them to me for my pleasure, until I broke them again. But even with the most patient of fathers, there came a time when my dad would say that this was the last time he'd fix it, and if my toy broke again, we'd just have to throw the toy away and play with a different one. To me, this was a horrific idea. But to my father, it was no threat at all. Of course he would never throw away one of my favorite toys. He just knew that I needed to learn to play carefully with my toys. And I would learn.

I can't help but compare this childhood story to one of a more recent occurrence. All too often I find myself running back to God, with my life in ruins, and saying in the most pathetic, childish of voices "daddy will you fix it?" And as always, he does. God takes the broken pieces of my life, and glues them back together. Then I promise to take extra good care of it and do exactly what he told me to in order to make my life run smoother and more enjoyable. But just moments after I walk away, my life fully whole, I trip and it shatters yet again. But God would certainly never tell me that it's time to discard my life and try again with another one. Of course that's ridiculous. But what if he could? Would he? Would he roll his eyes and say that it's time to move on to something different? No. He would lovingly and caringly dry my tears and glue the pieces back together so that I may have yet another chance at happiness.

 It's a wonderful God I serve.

Precious Moments of Sheer Idiocy.

This is just a little something that my sister and I wrote via text message while we were both bored at school.

You're strange.
Like an orange.

Let's go dance.
In a prance.
I have ants in my pants.
And an awesome stance.
And do a chant.

People are stupid.
Their brains are made of liquid.
I will shoot them with an arrow, but not like cupid.
They're going to get frigid.
And get pooped on by pigeons.

Some music is annoying.
It seems like it is toying.
But it may be enjoying.
Sometimes it goes ding ding boing.
And then turns to boring.

There are a lot of notes.
I want to throw them off a boat.
Be a good citizen and vote.
Without your goat.
Because it will bloat.

The weather is bipolar.
It gives me quite a molar.
hahahahahahahah. It seems to be solar.
It makes me get colder.
Then it seems like I'm older.

La Fin!

Fleeting Glances

 Is the ideal greater than reality? Is the imagined better than the truth? How long must this torment continue? It's becoming humorous how caught up I am. I have become that which I swore I would never endure! Could it be that I am being led along for a purpose, or is it just pleasing to my eyes and good enjoyment for the moment? I appreciate the gesture of entertainment for my eyes, but my mind is hardly able to cope! Oh if I were a stable person, I would have been over this weeks ago. If there could be just an opportunity, something for me to work with, but fleeting glances are not enough to even build a familiarity. I must laugh at myself, really. I have succumbed so easily to a man who hasn't even spoken a word to me. Yet, all these years I've sworn I would never be submissive to any man, no matter what. But, here I am, fully compliant to a complete stranger. Am I so easily swayed? All it took were pretty eyes, a wonderful smile, and a wild imagination. He provided the first, and I, in all my glory, have run wild with the last. Should I wish I could surrender my intense imagination for something duller? But it would be to destroy a wonderful world if I surrendered my imagination and creativity. If anything, though he torments me so, he has certainly inspired my artistic side.

Totally Prepared to be Caught Completely Off-Guard

It's ironic how mixed emotions can be. I spend my time planning, arranging, organizing, only to find that I must drop it all and experience true and utter spur-of-the-moment feelings and adventures. What a difficult task for someone who so unwaveringly loves to be prepared. I've been told by two very wise people in my life to just 'let it happen.' But let what happen? Certainly I must be prepared to let it happen. To know exactly what's going to happen, before it happens, so that I may make the most of what happens. Isn't that correct? Of course not. It would be too simple that way. Experiences are about letting 'it' happen. Whatever 'it' may be. That way, when it does come along in our lives, we will find ourselves standing on the brink of a new life, new lessons, and new love. Let it happen. Learn to be you. No matter what stands in your way. Learn to experience things as they come, and don't plan them so strictly, because then you might miss out on everything!

Let it happen.