This is what I mean, when I say I love you.

When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.

When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, "I am in the heart of God."
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.

Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.


And when I make love with you, this, is what I'm doing.

goodbye blog

Every single thing

Everything about this city reminds me of her. I hate it. My new roommates are listening to Lady Gaga, reminds me of the car ride where I sat in the back of her truck and cried. She held my hand. My hands may be different now, but her's always feel the same. Shosha told me that when she and Taylor broke up she couldn't do anything without it reminding her of him. I feel similar. While I'm unpacking I think of the first time I unpacked with her. She brought me cookies, break and bake, but I didn't care. I have since had another friend of mine make me real cookies from scratch, and although delicious, they are easily forgotten. The last song we danced to is in my car, all of Brandi Carlile reminds me of her. I read her blog today, she had that dream again, that horrible awful dream about having a stillborn child. I don't know if I'm in the dream anymore, but I just want to hug her, tell her it's all okay. I hate it when she's in pain. I hate that dream that has plagued her for some time now. I was going to go on a bike ride today, but I turned around when I saw the parking ticket on my car and I can't help but be reminded of all the times at the beginning of last year that I didn't go bike riding with her. A picture of her bike is what came up on my phone when she called me, that is until my phone microphone broke and I had to get another one. Now all I hear when she calls is "I through it all away when I'm hollow". I eat feta, I think of her. Every place I like to eat here I think of her. My parents took me to Andolini's last night, I couldn't help but think of the times we went. I was really horrible this past year, all the stupid arguments all my petty bullshit. When I'm depressed, I push everyone away, and the harder they push to be there, the more I shove. and I shoved and shoved and shoved her. I was a dick to my parents, to my friends, to my sisters, and to her. But she got the forefront of it, because she was here, and she tried so hard to always be here, and the more she was here the more of a dick I was. I want so badly to show her what I can be now. It makes me uncomfortable that she reads this. I feel like my blog sounds more like a plea, and that's not what it is, this is my expression, and it will continue to be mine. She doesn't want to spend time together for six months, it's a very difficult thing for me to grapple with. It's a very difficult idea when someone is what you think about before you fall asleep and then your first thought when you wake up. I miss talking to her. I miss when she would ask me how my day went. When she would talk about her day, and what annoyed her, and what she liked. About what her friends where up to. I've always been a listener, but I lost too much of that over this year. I wish I could listen to her now. She used to be proud of herself for not contacting me for three days. I miss that, I wish I had talked to her more, but she wanted in, and I didn't want anyone in. I wish she wanted in now. I want in. I want a trip inside your head, spend a day there, hear all the things you haven't said, see what you might see. I would get mad over the stupidest shit, she went out of her way to help me see a friend of mine, and I got mad at her for it. She didn't deserve that shit. I'm actually really glad that she stood up for herself and walked away. She did what was best for her, and when it comes down to it, that's what I want too. and if I ever want to be best for her, I have to show that anyone who get's my love is lucky to have it. And that starts with friends and family. I love my family, but I take them for granted. I've been an ass to Spencer, I've lashed out at him when all he has done is cared about me. I've also been an ass to myself and all I've tried to do was the best I've known how. I love my family, I love my friends, and I love myself, but love, only exists as a verb. Your God may be the God of love, my God is Love, and I've been losing touch with God. Everything about this city reminds me of the love I've shared. I love it.

What to say

I'm not sure what to say. I know what to do. I guess that's the important part. I wasn't ready for what came my way when I was sixteen. I cry every day, but these tears only fall into a sea. But maybe one day, all my mountains will turn to rocks and all my oceans into drops.

A love like this, comes but once. This I do believe.

It's been a while.

I saw an attractive girl downtown today, and in my mind I thought of every way Calynn was prettier. I asked her to marry me, for all the reasons I should. She said no. I was finally able to do what I've wanted to do for a long time, and it's too late. I don't know how to deal with this. I've never known grief like this. And for the first time in a long time, some of my ducks are in a row that haven't been. I know I can be best for her, and furthermore I can be best for me. There is no doubt in my mind that no one else can share the amount of joy and wonder that I can with her. I didn't really believe in that meant to be stuff before I met her, and I am forever changed. I want her to be happy above all else. And if she can never get over the things that prevent her from ever wanting to be with me again, then it's her loss... and mine. I may not be able to articulate best at the moment of who I am, but I know who I will become. I will be a great friend and a great person who makes mistakes, but a person who will never fall into the Pit that has held me for this past year. Someday I want to be a daddy, and today I want to be a husband. So now I shall be a friend because both a father and a husband need that basis, and whether I ever become those things or not, I will be a friend, and I'll be a damn good one at that. This love may be silent, but it is not without voice.

God forgive me. It's something I've never been able to do, depression or no. What if there is no god? maybe we invented gods to help us live with ourselves. or maybe Leonard Cohen convinced us.

I blog when I'm unhappy, so I guess I'm doing better. I feel really unmotivated and I'm a bit worried about some of my grades, but I'm going to do the best I can. I miss her sometimes more than others, but it's always there. I live in every grey area imaginable and it'd be nice sometimes to have a black and white. "Your blacks are blacker and your whites are whiter, my greys are greyer" actually i'm pretty sure it should be grays and grayer, but fuck you English, I'm doing it my way.