Broken Skulls

I don't want your self-less thoughts. They mean nothing to me unspoken.  Don't you understand that I can't feel those thoughts. Because they are merely thoughts.  I can't sense them.  I cannot hear them in your voice. I can't read them in your writing.  Why do you keep these thoughts contained by your skull?  Why even think them if you just hide behind a blank expression?  I want to hold these thoughts, memorizing them, fantasizing about their futures.  I want to break the skull and let the thoughts run as free as the pulsing blood from your harshly contained brain.  You are waiting for me to have the capability to read your mind. But I don't even know to try.  What isn't said, just isn't.  It isn't being, it isn't happening.  It is just an invisible cloud of thought, so untouchable.  No matter what the thought contains, it means nothing to me, it doesn't even exist to me.  Try and exist. Do this for me, do not be so self-less.  You're happiness matters. It matters to me.  What if I want the same as you?  Why hold back, when we could have it all.  For once, please break the skull.

“If somebody likes me, I want them to like the real me, not what they think I am. And I don't want them to carry it around inside. I want them to show me, so I can feel it too. I want them to be able to do whatever they want around me.”
-Stephen Chbosky from The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Worlds Collide.

Everyone has different worlds inside of them. Our perceptions and thoughts create a realm in which we live as individuals.  We can never fully understand how someone else thinks or what someone else's world looks like, because we don't live there. As much as we think we know someone, they have their secrets about them.  These things make us so insanely mysterious and different.
Our secret worlds make us incomparably distinct, and endlessly alone in life.
But there's something beautiful to the life alone, it means you can be different, and you can choose to let some one see your world, and you can choose to see someone else's.  There's intimacy formed when two people begin to breakdown their walls to share their life. There's trust in that, and there's love in it sometimes too.  Yes, perhaps the beauty of having your own world is finding someone to share it with.

Summer Lovin

While talking to my beautiful friend from New Zealand, I realized I missed a time when she and I, and a group of other amazing girls, all lived together in a blissful little place. We were camp counselors for an all girls camp in the mountains of North Carolina.  We did everything together. We shared hardships, stories, heart breaks, and sisterly love.  We all loved Jesus, and we were all were so different.  But I swear, those were some of the best days with them.  I remember we made a trek up to Catawba Falls.  We climbed to the top and slid our way over a mossy and slippery wet fallen tree to reach the rock where water fell over the cliff.  It was the most dangerous and uplifting thing I'd done.  I can close my eyes and still see the beautiful, clear mountain water as it flew past me.  Life won't ever be that way again, and I won't ever be with all those girls at once.  But I know I won't forget those times, and despite all the things that went down that summer, like being underpaid, gaining weight, losing a relationship, and taking care of 12 eight year olds at once, I'll always love my time in that camp.  It's not because of camp, but because of the girls that I have grown to love.  The mountains will never be as beautiful as they were that summer, and my friendships with those girls will never be forgotten.
I love yall.
Always will.

The mind's creation falls short.

Fantasies

The idea of someone you don't really know, is the most misleading thing.
We build and build a figure that won't withstand gravity.
An imaginary character that would only exist in a different world.
But here it can withstand it's figure.
It wobbles and strains to keep balance.
Something that perfect can't withstand.
Time starts to seep in the crevices,
Cracking the foundation,
Breaking the frames.
I stand holding the figure with arms sprawled out.
Grasping for a figure that is bound to tumble.
When it falls I will still be holding on.
Since it is my fantasy, I imagine a vine growing.
Attaching the broken pieces.
I think I have fixed the problem.
I take a step back to admire the creation.
Each step back is it uglier and uglier.
Because I am not God.
I cannot create a beautiful person.
I cannot create the man I need.
As much as I try, my plans are rubbish in comparison.
But this is something I have attempted for so long.
It is my creation and though it is horrifying and disgusting,
It is mine.
Soon it will fall and disintegrate.
And I will walk away.
This time looking for something real and living.

Who I am.

Who I am today is who I am.  The thought scares me.  I want to be so much more.  I want to be someone that doesn't exist. I'm not skinny enough, or smart enough, or stylish enough, or fun enough, or witty enough, or happy enough, or Christian enough, or loving enough.  I am just this.  This is all.  This is who I am.

Roots.

Late Night Stories.
A short tale of heartbreak.

He saw her. Some kind of look she had.  She had a sadness about her you can't repair, just one that you had to love.  The sadness that made the happier times better.  Their time kept brief, but just enough to realize something was real and planted inside.  The roots were shallow but protruded into the areas of the brain that never really make sense when analyzed. The parts of the brain that have no explanation, but is categorized as feeling. Feelings like a fluttering heart, shakes down to the shins, and makes your body tense.  The roots grew over time, but they got tangled somehow. The twisted roots grew but never got deeper.  But they still trigger a soft feeling of attraction.  Like stepping into a wet puddle, it doesn't consume you, but you feel it.
The triggers start with a familiar combination of characters.  Bringing the feelings back but stronger, because even though the roots haven't grown deeper, they are twisted up creating thicker and over-lapping roots. In every denial she can't shake the growth that as lane dormant for so long. The memories rush back like a blood rushes to a fresh deep wound. And it hurts her, she's bleeding out.  the trigger made a large impact, because it ignites more than memories. It brought to life the confusion and regret and flowed like a river into the open air.  Now there is pressure to make things right, the way things should have been.  But time isn't on her side, and as she stares at the pool of blood and realizes without the blood the roots will die soon.  She stands with her head down, eyes closed, hands close enough to her eyes to catch the tears.  Time never stops despite her despair. She only has days left before the roots run dry and so does the hope of ever having been.

The Way Life Works

I found this. 

Not sure who the author is.

A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, he wordlessly picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full.. The students responded with a unanimous ‘yes.’

The professor then produced two Beers from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar effectively filling the empty space between the sand.The students laughed..

‘Now,’ said the professor as the laughter subsided, ‘I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things—-your family, your children, your health, your friends and your favorite passions—-and if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house and your car.. The sand is everything else—-the small stuff.

‘If you put the sand into the jar first,’ he continued, ‘there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life.

If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff you will never have room for the things that are important to you.

Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness.

Spend time with your children. Spend time with your parents. Visit with grandparents. Take your spouse out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house and mow the lawn.

Take care of the golf balls first—-the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the Beer represented. The professor smiled and said, ‘I’m glad you asked.’ The Beer just shows you that no matter how full your life may seem, there’s always room for a couple of Beers with a friend.

Hamster Wheel

There is a consistant norm that we must follow.  It goes against our natural desire and way of thinking.
 We must be perceived a certain way to be accepted and loved. It isn't true to most of us. It isn't how we would act if we didn't believe we wouldn't get accepted by breaking these conformities. There are things we can't say and things we aren't supposed to do.  We are all stuck in this hamster wheel, forced to keeping going in the same direction or get trampled by the rest.
 
Well, at least we aren't alone.

Quote I love.

Don't feel stupid if you don't like what other people pretend to love. - Emma Watson

The things we used to treasure.

Remember the complexity of our life as children.  We were sheltered from the worst of things.  Those things were in the hushed voices of our elders. We knew the voice but not what it meant.  But our life wasn't simple.  No quite the opposite.  Beautiful in fact, because most of it wasn't real.  Or at least mine wasn't. We weren't able to see the reality that we faced each day.  We didn't see that the man on the streets that looked dirty didn't actually have a bed to get into, or someone to feed him when he is hungry.  How would we have responded to that man?  We want to help.  But we also didn't know that that man may be dangerous, a sick man that shouldn't be around a little girl. We didn't realize the way he got to the street corner, because we didn't realize that our decisions define us.  That our parents had to protect us from that man, from the reality of the circumstance.  Our parents understand that their decisions affect their children's life.  In childhood our decisions are a trial run.  The question is do we make less effecting decisions because we don't understand reality, or because we haven't been corrupted by it?
There are so many things that I wish my eyes haven't seen, my hands haven't done, my mouth hasn't said, and my mind hasn't thought. I didn't have this guilt as a child.  Maybe my mind didn't have the capability to register a memory such as guilt, but in even in recollection of my memory I don't feel the guilt.  From what point to we leave innocence?  The kind of innocence that shelters us from the guilt and shame. Where does that come from?
Changes in life aren't abrupt steps. Life is a slow change in color.  Like when an watercolor artist smooths out a color into another. Brilliantly we transition without even knowing we left one color or entered another. Trying to figure out when you entered a new color is about as easy as trying to remember when you entered a dream. It's when we are in the deepest darkest part of the color do we realize we are in a new place.
The fact is we cannot know when we are coming to a new stage, like entering into the shame and guilt we all know so well.  Because we don't understand where we are going. Despite the fact that billions of people have all gone through the exact same disposition as us.  Life is a collection of experience, thoughts, and feelings. We won't ever break any cycle, because we learn in progression.  So maybe it's pointless to ask questions like mine. But to understand the stages of life gives insight into how we used to be, and maybe recreation of the past can occur.  Can we be as happy as we were as children if just could remember how we got there and how we left?  How wonderful life could be if I could still find pleasures in watching my sister play Spyro for hours, or the fascination of watching cookies rise in the oven, or splendid view of a snowflake landing on my tongue.  Can we get that back?

Time to Wonder.

Somedays the worst thing anyone could tell me is you will never live anywhere but here.  I want to see every bit of this earth, the beauty and sickness. All the things I could learn away from all the norms that I know so well.  I hate the idea of staying somewhere too long.  America is comfort and greed and modernization at it's finest. I want a chance to live on a different continent with different accents and different faces.  Oh the things I have yet to learn.  What keeps me moving is the hope of learning what the world has to offer.  There so much more to life, I just know it. I just hope I am lucky enough to find it, experience it, and love it.

Spiritual Warfare and Faith

Listening Prayer

Tonight I had the opportunity to spend time in prayer with a friend that is going through spiritual warfare.  I talked with him about the experiences he is having. While listening to the stories, I was asking to hear from the Spirit. The Spirit spoke and I was dreading what God was asking of me.  He told me," take his hand and pray".  I didn't know him that well and I was nervous about it. But I did it.  I've been praying that I would not quench the Spirit, as commanded in 1 Thessalonians 5:19.  I sat down held his hands and listened to the Lord.  In prayer with another person, I have a tendency to feel things, anxiety, stress, pain, and other feelings.  With my hands in his, I entered prayer feeling tension. Then I saw evil images, and eventually felt pain emotionally and physically.  Tears rushed to my eyes at the pain he was enduring.  Then the Lord sent the word fortress into my head.  We sat for about 15 minutes in silence as I focused on the Lord. As the prayer was near over a peace came over me.  It literally flowed through me.  My body relaxed my hands became loose in his.  I ended the prayer and went searching for fortress in the Bible. We ended up with Psalm 18. I read it aloud to him.  He smiled and laughed like he knew it was speaking into his heart.  I was happy to help, but I really didn't do anything, God gave me a word and I used his Word to find it. The Lord will have His way with or without us. The Lord has lit a fire inside of me, and tonight I let it burn wild.  There is a war all around us, and we were Sent here for a reason.  Together I believe we can bring His Kingdom down to this desolate earth. Tonight was a small step, but there is more brewing I can feel it.

Waiting

Waiting kinda sucks. But when you really think about the word it's confusing.  Sometimes we are waiting without realizing it. Like I am waiting till I graduate, but I am waiting for so many other things at the same time that are pressing right now. For instance, did I get an A on the test I took today, I am waiting for that.  Somethings we wait for don't have the capability to consume our thoughts.  Somethings we wait for don't matter so much to us. Like when you apply to a school you don't want to go to, and your waiting to see if you got that scholarship you don't really want.  The worst waiting however is the kind that has no deadline or time frame, and it consumes us. Maybe you don't realize the effect of waiting.  Sometimes we wait for big things, like marriage, or a job, or a family.  Those things don't normally consume me though. They are too far in the distance. The things we wait for tell us about our lives and ourselves.  The waiting that consumes us, show us our desires.

Our willingness to wait reveals the object we are waiting for.
-Charles Stanley (Based off of Isaiah 64:4)

My Version of the Flower Girl

            An Innocent Little Tale for Charming

Upfront (Young Blood- The Naked and Famous)

I sat in a cabin, that was more like a miniature house, surrounded with about thirty other people my age.  “We all are young naïve still”.  We were completely filled with happiness by the thought of spending an entire week with some of our closest friends. It was spring in the mountains, cool, crisp, and completely beautiful.  I sat with legs twisted Indian style and bare feet, like I always did.  I was early; it took about five minutes for people to start trickling in.  My face was gleaming with excitement about the topic of the class. I was sitting upfront not to be distracted by anyone, other than the teachers of course.  I'm always that person, you know the one who likes to answer questions and actually read the textbooks before class.  However, this class would be different than the normal class; it was all about prayer. The kind of prayer you probably wouldn’t have done in your Sunday school class.  Praying to a Father so worthy that words aren’t the only form of communication.  I was excited and nervous. This was my first Christian camp, and I’d been daydreaming about it for months. Hearing wonderful stories about the experience of a lifetime, meeting people you’ll always remember.  I brought a notebook to record the week; I mean why not, it was supposed to be one of the best weeks of my life.

A Twist in the Plot (Saw You First- Givers)

He sat in the back. Yes, “I saw you first.”  Lets call him Charming.  Yes, the name Charming isn’t really so creative and spectacular.  But you’ll understand why such a classic name fits him later on.  I noticed his tan skin against beautiful blue eyes.  His face was perfectly proportional, sharp, with and angled jaw, high check bones, and a sturdy brow. I know these things because I obsess over the details of the face when I draw.  And his hair was light brown in color, and pushed back ever so slightly. He was tall and slim with an athletic shape. He had some kind of confidence too. You could just tell by how he walked with a smirk on his face. Seeing guys in my classroom was refreshing after an entire year at an all girls’ college.  I was suddenly more aware of myself at this point.  Realizing that the blood was rushing to my face as I gazed at the handsome man joining my class.  He walked searching for an open seat; he didn’t have much of a choice since he was one of the last people in the room.  He settled for the back row and directly behind my seat at the front.  I figured he was probably used to the back row, because he didn’t rush in as if a horrible accident had happened. He was calm; I figure he was one of those guys who talked a lot and had a hard time leaving point A for B.  Those guys enjoy the present so much that the next thing on the agenda isn't really a priority.  Living in the moment is beautiful and a hard action to learn. In the days to come, he was always one of the last ones in the room.  I had to look at the door 28 times before he would waltz in with his Birkenstock clogs. Those shoes made me smile; I used to have some in middle school when they were the latest fad.  He sat beside a pretty girl with curls. I thought he liked her, or she liked him. I never can understand guy/girl friendships.  I'm not sure how you label the feeling of seeing an attractive guy with a girl. It's not quite jealousy because you don't know all the facts just yet.  Perhaps curiosity fits, either way I felt it. I turned back not to get caught staring.  It took focus not to make a 180 glance, but it was do-able.  I had an entire week to see the males in my class.  My attention was straying. The fact that I was thinking these thoughts made me disappointed that I wasn't entirely focused on the material in the class. This must have been the by-product of being cooped up with all girls for a year. So here I am in co-ed class, learning again how to ignore the handsome guys scattered about the room. I am in ninth grade again. I start to envision our first conversation.  And then reality breaks my train of thought; I don't know how to speak to the guys. And when I say guys I mean the attractive stranger guys.  I was very rusty with my male interaction skills. Ever since starting college at an all girls’ school, I was slowly becoming more awkward.  I had never really understood the flirting concept either.  In high school guys never really talked to me. I had guy friends but they never pursued me like that.  I mostly just got "checked out".  My reputation of "high morals" always preceded me. Everyone said I was intimidating. I can't explain that one.  I never meant to be unapproachable, but it was for the best, at least that’s what I'm told.  At any rate, I wasn't experienced with flirting or making small talk.  To be honest, I hate small talk. It annoys me, and bores me, and I forget most things in the small talk portion of conversation.  But it is necessary for deeper communication, so we all must enter the small talk phase at some point. I figured I'd have to start small talk with him, if I could muster up the courage and all.  Class was going smoothly in the background of my rampant thoughts.  We heard the basics of every first class: the introduction of instructors, the reason for the class, and the outline of the class.  I knew this all too well, everyone did.

Staring Problem (Sweet Disposition- Temper Trap)

The next class I sat on the front row again, still hoping for success in paying complete attention. I decided not to stare at the door this time. I really didn't need to look for distractions again. But he came in after me and sat perpendicular to the speakers and in front of me.  I could feel my stomach drop a little bit. This class would be much harder to focus.  Great.  He noticed me and we made eye contact.  I kept thinking how awkward I must look, like a deer in headlights but still attempting to look coy.  Oh well, worst-case scenario he thinks I am weird, which is entirely true.  You might be thinking just play it off, nope, not possible. I have this staring problem.  When I look at a person their glance doesn't scare me away. Most people get caught staring and immediately turn their head away. I hate that. Just own up to it, you were looking so what?  Plus eye contact isn't bad right? I mean I love eyes. They are the most beautiful things on humans. So complex and perfect, God really out did himself with eyes.  I have a way with my eyes.  It’s more of a curse than a blessing.  It’s not just the eyes it’s the face as a whole.  You can tell exactly what I am feeling by a glance.  It was so apparent that in multiple instances a coach or teacher would point this curse out and ask me to conceal these expressions.  I finally glanced off. But I wanted to admire his handsome face again. I tried to hold a steady stare at the speakers. You can only hold of two magnets for so long. My gaze hit him despite my efforts, when I glanced at him he looked back at me.  It was only “a moment and I wouldn’t stop till it was over.”  He smiled, not a big one, but his lips moved.  That was all the interaction we had during that class.  But that’s all I needed to feel the butterflies. I made my way out alone. 

Small Talk Scenario (Fresh Feeling- Eels)

Small talk happened in the night class.  As I said before, small talk is all-important. I never know the appropriate reactions I should make when I ask questions.  I don't think people ever really need to think about that sort of thing.  The way you talk to people should come naturally.  But I think I missed the normal way of things growing up. Like when he says his name, and I say mine right after. Then what? You have the handful of questions you can ask, or they can ask the same ones.  So I just smile because I am afraid I’ll mess up the system.  He asks the rest of the perfect small talk questions and I simply copy his questions.  The small talk scenario became real.  Well, I got his name. Glad that's over with.  “He didn’t have a clue what it was like to be next to him.  I’m here to tell him it’s good.” Throughout the class I kept thinking about how I’d talked to Charming.  His voice was quite different; he spoke concisely with an occasional smile.  I was reassured of his confidence. He was easy to talk with; I figured he was homecoming king or something.  During the duration of the class I probably smiled more than what was appropriate for the lecture.  It ended just like the rest and I walked out alone.

Empty Seats (Camilo (Magician)- Said the Whale)

He skipped morning class. It wasn't the same without him.  I kept a seat open for him just incase he didn’t want to sit in the back alone. But “honestly, I know he probably liked to keep a mystery. But there’s a girl I know who’s sad.”  I hope no one noticed my smile was far less frequent or that I watched everyone come in waiting for him. I’m not going to lie; I was looking forward to seeing him.

Taking Shots (Mother I Just Can’t Get Enough- New Radicals)

During free time I played basketball, and volleyball. I was sweaty, my hair a mess. But I saw him, and well, I really wanted to make him feel bad for skipping. The problem was my blood was racing, and I wasn’t sure if my mouth would be able to configure the right words.  I figured I’d stick with what I knew best, the guilt trip.  I mean I saved him a seat!  I figured I would shoot a few shots and then approach him.  You know, make him wait a bit and hopefully make a few so I could build some confidence. I gave him a hard time, but by the way my face was gleaming it was still flirty.  He had a way about him. “There was something about him that tears me inside out whenever he was around.” He made everything into an elaborate story, and when he spoke it wasn't just speaking. He made words flow differently.  He was a funny guy though.  It made me wonder how he was as a kid, and how he talked to his mother. I don't know why I wanted to know that, but he was interesting.  I never skipped class, I was kind of jealous that he could just skip things.  He was really okay with it too.  It wasn't like, man I feel so bad for missing.  I on the other hand am terrified of skipping class or being unproductive.  I used to hate sleeping because I realized that there was so much I could do in life if I didn't skip a third of it sleeping.  I also couldn't stand the thought of missing good information and being behind.  I'm such a nerd it's scary. I am also so scared of silly things it's stupid.  Whatever though, he wouldn't skip again.  If his goal was to get my attention, it worked. I also realized he was much cooler than I was.  I left the gym with a bigger smile than when I entered. “Mother, we can’t get enough.”  I was intrigued by Charming; he was different.

The Pink Petals Turning (Flowers in Your Hair- The Lumineers)

Everyone at camp was so friendly. It was like a different planet.  I felt like I could really be myself.  Some moments I just wanted to sit and think about how Rockbridge was special.  Kind of like when you are sad and you just want to sit and remember everything about the sadness. Instead I wanted to dwell in the wonderfulness that surrounded me. I remembered being confused as to how we would lock our cabin door, and then I realized that no one would steal. It was safe.  I realized that the guys were nice. I could be with them and not worry they would make me feel uncomfortable. I felt like everyone had good intentions, maybe because people loved Jesus.  Nonetheless it was a little taste of heaven. I digress, back to the story.  That night in class he gave me a flower. It was pink and perfectly shaped.  I'd never gotten a flower from a guy before.  I felt like a character in a romance story written way before my time.  Maybe “he would romanticize the time he saw flowers in my hair.” This is just another reason he is Charming.  I can still picture the flower between his fingers. I'd never really been pursued in a charming way. He had such a nice smile. He probably noticed me staring at it. And his eyes were so blue, but not the normal light blue color more so aqua blue.  It was like he had a primer color underneath his iris that made the blue more brilliant.  I took the flower as we both noticed it matched my shirt. Rather interesting because that was the only pink shirt I owned. I really wasn't a fan of pink, I was a tomboy growing up and I never got the hang of feeling girly.  To be honest, I only wore it to look nice for him. That shirt just happened to be one of the nicest in my suitcase.  I remember my heart fluttering when he gave it to me all nonchalant. “He was so attractive; and by the way he moves I couldn’t close my eyes.”  I know I blushed, not everyone could be as cunning and effortlessly charming as him. There really wasn't a point in pretending I wasn't thrilled.  Even if I wanted to hide how I felt, I knew it was written all over my face. This time we talked about real things. I found out he was from UVA. Which I know is a really great school, and that my dad might approve. UVA is Dad's favorite school. I don't really know why, Dad never went to college.  Charming seemed like he wasn't sure what he was going to do after college, but he was content.  That made me happy.  I wish I didn't have everything planned out. I want to be free to change and choose what is best at the moment.  By the way he spoke he was definitely smarter than I was.  It didn't matter though; I would see him for only a week. He wouldn't have time to realize he was too smart and cool for me. He seemed really surprised I went to an all girls' school.  Most people are though; I guess it isn't really common.  He was sarcastic, it was funny though, not mean. Plus I love sarcasm; it’s a mechanism I use to keep people at a distance. Sarcasm is a subtle, mean way to show someone you are comfortable with him.  Its like adding negative one and positive one, it keeps you at the same place.  Sarcasm is safe. We talked about some other things.  All good things end…  I had to consciously stop myself from smiling. I felt pathetic. But I was lucky to sit by him if only for a few hours. The flower was my connection to him.  And there it sat, half covered by my mess of hair and planted between my head and ear. 

I kept the flower in my hair all through worship, my friends asked about it. I said a boy gave it to me. Immediately they jump all over the conclusions.  It made me blush.  I told them his name was ****.  They didn't seem to understand his name, which I couldn't blame them. The first time I heard it I had to repeat it to make sure I had the right name.  I was already happy so worshiping was especially easy, but I couldn’t get too wild in order to keep the flower in place. When I left worship I looked for him so I could show my friends, but with no avail. There’s always tomorrow.

Blue Sunlight (Five Years Time- Noah and The Whale)

The next day I saved a seat for him.  He was really my only friend in that class. I basically spent all the time I wasn't paying attention in class flirting with him. He did his cocky waltz into the room. He sat next to me and I was relieved for two reasons: one because Roger was starting to follow me around a bit, and two because I got to sit by him again.  It was morning and “the sun was shinning over him and me”; the way the sun hit his eyes made me melt. I thought how beautiful his eyes would be to paint.  It didn’t matter that in “five years time we might not speak”. These moments were worth it. We got to talk more and of course, we talked about volleyball.  As we both were competitive and wanted to have the best team possible for the tournament that was happening in two days. I quickly realized that his team would be way better. I mean of course it was; he was allowed to have two teams (therefore stack one the best players)!  I was jealous. I also wanted to play with his team, but not just because I wanted to win. I wanted to spend time with him.   My team wasn't too bad, if we could keep out the scrubs. But it’s a Christian camp so you can't tell anyone they can't join.  It was fun to talk to him because he didn’t make me feel bad for being competitive.  Some Christian guys think competitiveness is a flaw. I don’t buy that.  Anyways we went our separate ways for lunch.  While in the dining hall I couldn’t help but search for him.  His eyes still imprinted in my mind.

Charming Distances (Skip the Charades- Cold War Kids)

During free time I did the rope course with my friend Molly.  The rain held off just during free time.  The rope course was slippery, but it was freeing.  The rock wall was more challenging, it involved upper body strength and I could feel myself straining. I made it to the top and called it a day.  Then, there he was, Charming walking with the pretty girl.  It made me jealous; she was really pretty.  I noticed he was dressed for a run. He had the fancy running shoes, basketball shorts, and a tee shirt.  Standing from a distance I could see his toned body.  He told me he ran, but by the looks of it he ran more than he put on.   Unfortunately, I suck at running, mainly because my body isn’t right for it.  Ever since tenth grade my hips grew wider, and I ran slower.  My feminine body wasn’t built for the long distances.  Once and a while I get on a two week running streak, and feel great, and then I stop, and that’s that. I remember walking up to him feeling my knees weaken.  We chatted for a bit, neither of us committing to being together in order to avoid desperation. “Let’s skip the charades. Can’t we just speak plain?” I mean I wanted to be with him, and I would think he wanted to be with me.  But social norms always get in the way.  Anyways, I think he mentioned going swimming. I really didn't want to do that at all.  I don't like wearing bathing suits.  I'm insecure about it.  But it was at least good for Molly to see him. At least one of my friends knew who he was.  I ended up playing volleyball. I didn't really see him until it was time for me to leave and shower before dinner. I wanted to look pretty for Charming.  I couldn’t help but kick myself for not spending free time with him. But time went on.

Charming Seating Arrangements (He Wants it All- Forever Jones)

 In the evening track he sat beside me. His skin even tanner, revealing the sun he’d soaked up during the day. I remember I was wearing my green cargo pants and a white top with a gray sweater.  Akali, one of instructors, was leading for the first time tonight. She was on the keyboard singing “He Wants it All” and wanting us to dance.  I wasn't really sure how to go about that.  Of course Charming knew what he was doing; he danced with a blonde girl, twirling her a few times so that her hair whipped around.  She couldn’t help but smile. I just kind of watched and bobbed around to the music. I held my sweater by the edges and swayed.  I'd only ever danced in ways that you should only do with the lights off.  I had never done any swing dancing either. So I figured I was kind of stuck bobbing.  I was counting the seconds till we could sit down.  But, it just kept going, and some people were so into their element. I on the other hand, was so uncomfortable.  Charming had his gaze on me but never stared. So I showed him one silly move Molly taught me.  It was called the gangsta grocery shopper.  It consisted of bopping up and down as you pretend to walk down the grocery isle while stealing things and stuffing them into your shirt. It wasn’t all that funny, but he laughed, maybe out of pity. But it was nice to have him watch me, I'd like to think I am entertaining whether I am or not. After the embarrassment finally ended, we were sitting in the very back of the room all the way to the right of the classroom. Which was a complete change from where I started. He was the only reason I would sit in the back. I really don't like the back seats. I felt like a bad student, but he was absolutely worth it.  We started to really enjoy each other's company. I would watch his reactions to things that happened in class. He would watch me as I doodled eyes.  I don't like when people watch me draw. But I liked holding his attention.  I enjoyed sneaking glances at him as his face angled at my paper.  Sometimes our eyes would meet and we couldn’t help but share a smile.  The kind of smile you share when you hold hands underneath the table.  He showed me his packet too, and I examined it.  I wanted to see if he took notes and if he was a doodler like I was.  He had some kind of survey thing on the packet and a few silly pictures. I was bored with the class by now, or at least he was more interesting.  I started tallying up his rankings. He didn't have a score for the time he missed class.  We took the average of other classes to make it even.  He didn't really like the track as much as I did.  I figured maybe he heard all the stuff before.  I remember when we did listening prayer he prayed in front of the whole class. He was bold. That made me smile. He must acknowledge the Holy Spirit for that kind of boldness. When he prayed his voice was smooth and his words were elegant.  I know my voice would be shaking, but he stayed confident the whole time.  Anyways, I didn't care much about the survey; I just wanted to talk with him.  

Prayer Walk (Love Like a Sunset Part II- Phoenix)

The next day in track I remember he didn't sit by me. But we at least made eye contact.  We learned about walking prayer; which was by far my least favorite. Basically we walked around outside in prayer/observing and listening to God. The walk wasn’t so bad, but the worst thing was the recap of it. People were coming from left field with things like "I saw a tree and it reminded me that we are a lot like trees, we are connected/weathered/neutral colored.. and blah blah blah." I liked the walk though; it gave me some time to really look around and soak in the beauty of it all.  I looked at the picturesque “acres and the visible horizon.” When the walk was over we slid back into the room.  He sat next to me this time, so at least I could watch his expressions while people poured their hearts out about a rock, or a blade of dead grass on the cement. It was nice having him there.  He made things fun.

Charming Leads the Way (I’m on Top of the World- Imagine Dragons)

At lunch we sat together.  Sometimes “you can have it all but life keeps moving,” so I figured I would make a move fast.  I asked Charming if he’d like too sit with me at lunch, I was afraid if I didn't he would leave me for his friends. He looked surprised and kind of said yeah as he immediately searched for a table.  He was so quick to accomplish the task of finding the table it sort of amazed me.  He held two fingers up and poked his chest out as he waltzed through the center of the dining hall. We sat in quadrant four, I have no idea who sat with us, but that didn't matter. I remember we had burgers that day. I don’t eat red met so I just ate the veggie burgers without the bread.  The cookies were really good. But I didn't get to eat two because I was a little anxious about the tournament. I really wanted to have a good team, not necessarily to win, but to not look stupid. Lunch went too fast. But I was glad to talk with him.  I wouldn’t trade the little time we had together for anything.  I liked how he focused on me; it was like I was the only person at a table that seats 8.  His body was turned toward me the whole meal, he made me feel like I was worth it too.  Like I was worth skipping lunch with his many friends. We didn’t get to talk long enough.  But let’s face it; a week is just too short.  The meal ended all too quickly as I knew the week would.

Charming Leads His Troops (Vagabond- Wolfmother)

By some sort of miracle my team won the first game and headed to the massacre against UVA.   My team ended up winning one game then played Charming’s team.  We held our own for about five minutes.  Then Roger came in… When asked if he could play volleyball, he said, "I don't know I've never played."  Well we all know that means you can't play, but he played anyways (like I said, no one can say no at Rock Bridge).  He came in and served a ball backwards, I didn't know that was possible. But needless to say we lost.  We salvaged some points, but didn’t put a dent in Charming’s lead. I took defeat. I can honestly say I wanted Charming’s troop to win.  He was the leader of the team. You could tell everyone looked to him for a game plan.  He humbly shook my hand; I gave a playful smirk as if I could ever be mad at his face.  I journeyed up to the loser’s court. I played there for a while till he came over.  He was a good.  Once again he was better than he put on.  He could do it all, hit, set, and pass.  I played defense mostly, I focused on countering his hits, putting up the best pass possible. And if I didn't get the dig, my pride hurt a little bit.  We could play and be competitive, and I was extremely tired of playing with the rookies.  We played until the last possible second we could.  I had to shower before dinner, because we were all dressing up.  I wore a fun dress, asymmetrical hemline, subtle neckline, floral, and I paired it with a brown belt and strappy sandals.  My hair was down and I added some fancy makeup too.

Sadness Settling (Cameras- Matt & Kim)

 I didn't see Charming when I arrived at the dining hall.  I didn't get to sit by him either; I sat with my school instead.  Afterwards we took lots of pictures. Charming was still nowhere to be found.  Then I saw him with his school’s chapter.  I had no idea if he could see me. “ There was no time for cameras, we will use our eyes instead.”  Missed chances are the worst.   I was ready for track time. I figured I’d stop by the cabin and readjust my outfit. I took off the belt and jewelry before track to be more comfortable.  It was then I started to feel the end coming. It was a sad ending; I loved Rockbridge. I felt so free there. I’d had a rough first year. I took on too many things, and I lost a good relationship with God.  I got really depressed first semester. I lost weight and became kind of antisocial.  Honestly, I blacked out some memories.  Sometimes my mom will tell me stories about how I acted and I can't remember them at all. It's a scary feeling; I still don't understand it.  Depression runs in my family, but I never thought I'd end up there.  Christmas break I got on some medications that seemed to help, the counseling did too.  I started to be my own self again second semester.  I decided I was going to transfer in February.  It was a hard decision because I was starting to make friends. I joined Intervarsity in February too.  I started sharing the gospel again and serving people.  I could feel God again, and He was happy with me.  Rockbridge was perfect for me. But two weeks happened so fast.  I was scared to go home and struggle with all the sadness again.  I was sad to meet wonderful people then leave them, hoping to see them next year but not knowing for sure. Let’s get back to the story though.

A Picture of a Week (Born to Die- Lana Del Ray)

When I saw Charming he was as handsome as ever.  I was eager to sit with him.  He wore tan pants, a light blue shirt, and a red tie.  He was even tanner than ever.  He was glowing from his victories.  I tried to explain what happened during the downfall of our team; however, the cause was right behind me.  We chatted some more.  I wanted to leave class with him.  Go talk maybe about free time plans, or just enjoy each other’s company.  But it was enough just to sit beside him.  Class flowed on.  Charming’s next mission was a picture.  I wanted a picture too.  I was starting to worry though.  Maybe he didn’t feel the same way about me as I felt about him.  Was this one of the last times I’d see him.  I wanted to avoid that.  Was this just a picture so he could remember our week together? Were we just a week? But ill “try to have fun in the meantime.” Then I remembered I don't really like pictures. I don't really love the way I look.  But as much as I disliked pictures, I needed something to make our short-lived relationship real.  We lined up to the camera. He put his hand on my waist; it felt nice.  I smiled, and it wasn’t a fake picture one.  I was genuinely happy next to him.

Rampage (Creep- Radiohead)

We went to our small groups. I wasn't really a fan of mine. My leader was the staff worker Akali. She was nice, but she was always late and sometimes didn't show up.  But it was the last night, so might as well make the most of it.  But then they wanted to raid the room next door. I wasn't into that kind of stuff. It was too awkward. We were supposed to chant something.  I wouldn't have really cared, but it was Charming’s group next door.  How embarrassing! “I don’t belong here,” not in this situation. It probably lasted thirty seconds, but it felt like 20 minutes of pure torture. It was confusing when trying to leave. How do you leave a situation that awkward?  I will never know the right way. I pretty much ran.  

Please Stay With Me (Holding Out for a Hero- Ella Mae Bowen)

Worship was good, but I couldn't help feeling sad.  I didn't want to go home and get caught up in my thoughts.  While singing, my mind wouldn’t let me forget we were all leaving tomorrow. I knew this was the last time I would hangout with my friends from Meredith all together.  Worship flew by and free time was up next. I didn't know what I would do. I hoped I could hangout with everyone one last time or maybe escape with Charming.  I started down stairs.  Charming was talking with friends.  I wished I could telepathically ask him to take me away.  I headed up stairs with my friends.  Charming waltzed in the back room.  Hmm, maybe my telepathy worked. My friends wanted to play flail. I don't like that game.  I slyly showed my friends Charming; they'd heard some about him in the cabin.  He came over and I was almost too excited.  I was hoping he would rescue me. He ended up playing flail. Of course he was good.  It was fun watching him. He was humble about most things, but his confidence couldn't be missed. The game ended. I was really counting on spending free time with charming at this point.  But I was caught in the middle of my friends.  And they wanted to go to the work crew house to play signs. But I had played signs so many times I was starting to zone out. I played for about twenty minutes and made my way out. By this point I was getting really sad. I walked back to my cabin alone.  I was disappointed I wasn’t walking with Charming. It was a beautiful night. I sat down near the worship center and just thought.  It's nice to just sit and soak in the present.  I had to remember the way these two weeks felt.  I was thankful for the ways God had changed me and saved me that year.  I was sad that I had to go through everything to make it here.  I really wanted to change and apply everything I’d learned.  I sat there for a while. I kept a look out for Charming.  But I was starting to get upset.  I went back to my room before LOAQ. That was the first time all week I wasn’t barely making it to the cabin in time. I lay in bed remembering everything about my two weeks in the happiest place on earth.  I wondered where Charming was.  I fell asleep with Charming on my mind.  “Somewhere after midnight, in my wildest fantasies, somewhere just beyond my reach, there’s someone reaching back for me.”

Leaving Charming (Maybe- Ingrid Michaelson)

 The next day came quickly. It was foggy and cool in the morning.  Breakfast was the last meal all together. Time was moving faster and faster. I headed to track and Charming walked with me part of the way. I had to acknowledge his awkward wrist first. I could tell he was joking around with his friends and I was probably the cause of it. He looked like a peacock when he did that. He mentioned how the staff members caught him after being out past LOAQ. I wondered why he hadn’t asked me to go with him.  He was with the pretty girl again. I was jealous.  I ignored him for a little bit. But there was no point; I had a few hours with him, might as well make the best of it.  We sat in the back, my new habit. It was all bittersweet. I wished I would be able to see him all day, heck I wanted to see him all summer.  I knew I had to get his number. I'd rather him ask, but I really don't mind making moves either.  We sat together one last time.  He was still as interesting as the first day I saw him.  I knew there was so much more I wanted to learn about him be.  I wondered if I’d ever get the chance. Then so quickly class was over, for good. I remember taking a good look around and remembering all the people that made up that track. It was perfect. Everyone was weird and didn't care. 

It was sad leaving the classroom. I wasn't excited for worship because I knew we would have to rush out of there and clean.  Charming and I walked to the building. We were early, which was surprising considering our track was always really late. I had yet to get his number. So I pulled out my packet, it was the moment of truth and I wasn't sure what information he would give me.  He gave me his number, so I gave him mine.  I knew I was blushing, but it was pretty dark and hot so I had a way to cover it up. We went to worship and my spirits were lifted.  As we walked in we shared one more smile and we separated finding our friends. I noticed him on the right side of the room. He was really popular, but he wasn't the kind of guy that had to try at all.  He was so cool. That sounds cheesy, but I am so awkward I feel like I can appreciate when someone is cool.  Someone who is confident and relaxed and comfortable with who he is. I liked him. It was official. But I also liked who he was. I would watch a show about his life or read a book about him.  That was the last time I saw him too.  The image of Charming glowing around his friends would stick with me. The mass of people separated us.  We sang a few songs and sat through some closing remarks. Then we crammed our way out through the doors.  Cleaning up your room and leaving Rockbridge is torture. As if leaving isn't awful enough we have to clean too! I hugged everyone about three times wishing we could restart the week. I didn't see Charming.  I searched for him everywhere I went.  I wondered what I would say to him if I could say exactly how I felt.  Maybe something like, “I am so glad to have met you.  I wouldn’t mind if we continued what we’ve started.”  But time was running out. I finally got into the car. It was over at that point.  All I had was the picture show in my head. I could control every memory, and replay it all.  Somehow I had so much clarity in my memories.  I think we can remember happy times the most, even years later. It doesn't really make sense to me how something so wonderful is continually living in my mind, but never seems to associate with my other life.  That week is kept separate in my mind.  That is why I choose not to include the rest of our story.  I remember thinking maybe someday in the “future he’ll come back. The only way to really know is to really let it go.”  Something’s are so perfect left unchanged, untouched, and so gently handled.  Our time was fleeting, but so beautifully sweet.

Charming thank you so much for a wonderful week (Feel Again- One Republic)

Love,

Leanne