Bedtime Stories

Once upon a time, there lived a girl named August.

August loved her brown wristwatch that ticked the seconds by faster than the clock on her dashboard.  She loved things that were out of place and the wristwatch stood out more than your regular one.  She decided one day it was because she had found it in an antique shop.

Kevin worked the night shift at the antique shop.  It was a lovely place that was open 24 hours, because you’d be surprised how many people needed something old in the middle of the night.  One night, around three in the morning, the bell that hung from the front door of the shop rang out and Kevin lifted his head to find a girl walking in.  She was unlike any girl that Kevin had ever seen; with red hair to her waist and green eyes that reminded him of grass.  He stood dumbly for a moment before quickly coming to her aid.

August told Kevin that she had found her wristwatch in the store.  She went on to explain that she was looking for an identical one she might someday give to the person she cared most about.  Instead of strange, Kevin found this endearing and so they searched together for a matching wristwatch. 

Hours it took, wristwatches were searched; many like the one that August wore, but none that ticked the time the same.  August nearly threw the search into thin air when she noticed something shining on the counter of the shop.  She inquired of Kevin what the object was when Kevin fell silent, his eyes resting upon the same object. 

It was his watch, he replied and gingerly lifted an identical wristwatch into his palm.  August, stepping closer, asked if she could see it and the watch was exchanged into her hands.  Leveling the clock with her own, she found the time matched more perfectly than she could have ever imagined. 

She stared for a long while at the plated glass and wondered aloud to Kevin what it could possibly mean.  Lifting her green eyes to his blue ones, he replied that maybe instead of waiting for the time to come when she would find the person she cared most about, the time waited for her.   

What Am I?

I am many things.  

I am ignorant.  I am naive.  I am insightful and sensitive.  I'm morbid and terrible.  I'm beautiful and sinister and messy and a handful.  I'm a girl and an adult and color blind and sorry.  I'm jealous and forgiving and believable and homesick.

  

I guess I thought when I told you I was leaving that I wasn't contributing to my own disappearance.  I thought when I said that maybe it was my fault that I hadn't started it in the first place. 

We can point fingers and scribble names.  We can abdicate ourselves to the finest form of confinement and say that we are free.  We can tell each other that no matter the amount of miles between just the 'I' and the 'U', that I'll be closer to you than the original years.  

I am many things. 

To YOU, I am many things. 

I am a liar.  I am your closest friend.  I am a song writer and blog idiot. I am annoying and obsessive.  I'm so kind and so manipulative.  I am the only one who gets you and the one that you wish would leave sooner than I already am.

We can say goodbye a thousand times and never remember our hello's.  We can laugh for our tears and consider the times that we felt that nothing would come between us.  

I am many things.  

To YOU, I am many things.  

But if there is one thing I am not, it is sure. 

Dull The Sky, Dear City?

I don't get nights like these very often.
The kind of nights where you forget the world around you.
The kind of nights where you see something other than the way you felt.
I didn't realize I liked him until tonight.
I thought maybe we would be friends, but it turns out when you're afraid and when you grasp a hand in your own, feelings ensue.
I thought he might taste like vanilla coffee and his laugh would sound like the way I cried during the show, but in a wonderful way.
I thought that it is God's way of punishing me;
I've been in the state called "Heart Break" for far too long,
and the moment it fades, He'll set the stage for "Moving Away."
But it was a beautiful night.  And I felt my heart beating again.
The last few months, I'd been wondering if I was still alive.
So, I guess God is showing me that I'm still here.
And although it may be offensive to be called 'worldly'
or 'earthy', I've found that I've been closer to a boy considered both.
And the further from God I become, the more I miss Him,
But God, I think you'd like him.
He is remarkable.
He makes me feel like I can be myself.
This boy makes me feel like I can walk through the canyon at night and count the stars in not-so-dark sky because the city lights are bright after all.

 This 

Vs. 

This