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Thursday, August 14, 2008

Free association.

I am lonely.

Obviously, as I am writing this instead of going out and having a good time, there could be no other explanation. Right? Or maybe it's just my emo side showing through-my cry for attention. Or maybe my lack of much social contact during this summer? There could be a few other explanations for my random spurt of blogging, but one thing is for certain.

I am lonely.

I have tried to escape this crushing feeling, with much success. But there are days like this, where I wake up from the most wonderful dreams, to find my reality... well... slightly less perfect. A bit more monotonous. But not only that- I could deal with the boredom and every day drudgery of a nine to five- I have somehow managed to convince myself that there's some kind of hope. I felt it on Monday, when I woke up from the only good dream I've had in over six months. It wasn't much- just he and I joking, cuddling, laughing, smiling... but it was so casual and so so real. I woke up with a huge smile on my face, ready to face the day no matter what came, because he was there. But he wasn't there. He didn't call or text, didn't visit our love cloud to say hello. Not a word. There hasn't been a word for a few weeks. Maybe I'm selfish for wanting more-for wanting acknowledgement. I know I shouldn't feel this way-he's on a mission to serve the Lord and he doesn't need any distraction. But MY FREAK it hurts sometimes, and it blows my mind that the "unfeeling cortni" can admit it. I guess it should be a good thing to admit- feeling any sort of feeling is always a comfort. The sharp pain connects me to this piece of world, to the frail connections of human relationships. The weird part is mine and Josh's connection- to call it frail would be a lie. I only knew him for a few months and I can already picture exactly what he would be doing right now. I have never felt for anyone else the intense feeling of love and belonging that I feel for him.

But there's more to the juicy story- another love, another home-wrecking nightmare, another savior, another dirty deed. Maybe what I'm feeling is not loneliness at all, but a divine inspiration to write again. To put my dramatic lines into phrases, into sentences, until all is lost in the labrynth of paragraphs (double or singly spaced, you see) But why put them in when i could fake it? Take some lyrics from here and there until the words start to blur...

It takes a crane to build a crane
It takes two floors to make a story
It takes an egg to make a hen
It takes a hen to make an egg
There is no end to what I'm saying

It takes a thought to make a word
And it takes some words to make an action
And it takes some work to make it work
It takes some good to make it hurt
It takes some bad for satisfaction

It takes a night to make it dawn
And it takes a day to make you yawn
And it takes some old to make you young
It takes some cold to know the sun
It takes the one to have the other

And it takes no time to fall in love
But it takes you years to know what love is
And it takes some fears to make you trust
It takes some tears to make it rust
It takes the dust to HAVE it polished

It takes some silence to make sound
And it takes a loss before you found it
And it takes a road to go nowhere
It takes a toll to make you care
It takes a hole to MAKE a mountain

Life is wonderful.

It's an eternal circle, with the beginning racing to the end, with the end waiting to begin. Or maybe just to never end? Does life lean more towards ending or beginning? People must die, but they must also live. Which brings me to my next point: You are the music while the music lasts.

Music doesn't have to end either. Put a repeat sign at the end with no coda and BAM! You've got Row Row Row your Boat. I will row my boat merrily down the stream. And when I can not face that chipper stream, I will stick my pole into its calm waters until I fish for a dream to hold on to. For a sweet reality, a sweet moment... anything to calm the waters of my troubled heart. It thuds as we speak, like it knows and is nervous. Nervous about the next day and what it will bring. Nervous of how this twisted complicated life will end up. Then again, the heart beats as long as it can take it- until the end. Maybe that is why we compare it to the feeling of love we all have inside- the heart is essential to our survival. Sometimes our hearts fail, because we did not take good enough care of them. Love can die, love can be lost, evaporated. But do not treat love like it is an object you can bottle up. Love is a VERB- to love someone. Only when you realize that, will you truly be able to understand what I'm trying to say. If there is something to be said at all. I'm sure you'll find a way.