Today

Marks the beginning of a new chapter.

That is all.

December 4, 2011 and beyond – all good things to come.

 

23: My Time to be Nostalgic

Pretty hard to believe another year has gone by, and I’ve celebrated another birthday. Life really has a way of just creeping up and surprising you, doesn’t it?

This time last year, I was still working weekend mornings and middays. I hadn’t quite figured out exactly who I was here in Iowa – I was pretty miserable, still. I can say this truly has been the most tumultuous year yet – but it’s been one full of triumphs and overcoming more than I could’ve ever imagined.

I feel like I’ve learned more in the past 365+ days than I ever have before. I have built great relationships with people in Iowa – some I know are friends for life. I think that almost surprised me, as I wasn’t quite expecting to build such close relationships. Iowa will never be home to me, but the friends I’ve made here have made it feel as good as it can be.

If anything, living here has humbled me to no end. It’s taught me what I can be, and who I can become. I’ve learned I can bear the bitter cold, I can live among people who are very different than I am, I’ve learned to listen more than talk (even though I still talk a lot), I’ve learned to embrace change and roll with it, and I’ve learned the life you planned is hardly ever the life you lead. But it’s all right.

It somehow always is.

Cheers to 23.

 

A Bittersweet Battle

I’m fighting a bittersweet battle. On the one hand, I am thrilled to have lost weight. On the other, I constantly find myself thinking about how things would’ve been had I looked/felt this way in the past. Moving to Iowa and starting a career felt like the perfect opportunity for me to finally lose weight.

 

I did. But there are days – like today – I am nostalgic. What if I had looked/felt like this when I was in Spain? Israel? At ASU? Would I have experienced things differently? Would I have seen things differently? Would people have treated me differently? Would I have treated myself differently? I understand those questions will never get answered, but they linger. I think of the way I feel today, and I wish I could tell 19-year-old me to figure my stuff out so I could feel it all the time.

 

I guess it’s all for a reason, and I’ve done this now as a supplemental challenge to moving to Iowa, away from my family and friends and the sun and all that I’ve known. Getting healthy and fit has been my distraction, and it’s been a great one.

Now, I want to do something about this knowledge I’ve gained as a result of the 55-pound loss. I want to inspire those looking to make a change. I want others to know how much more there is to life than food. I did.

It’s a bittersweet battle, but it’s worth fighting.

 

…

I am never staying.

You are never leaving.

Time has never been good to me, beneath the trees of my second fall.

I admit, I wasn’t always myself then, but how beautiful it is I can be now, beneath the leaves of my second September.

Do you hear it?

I’m always dragging my feet around you.

This is where we fall together. I’m done falling apart.

 

Thoughts From the Sky

I’m hitting the pavement harder than it’s ever been hit before.
And if it means I have to leave you behind, I will.
My lips are cracked, and our energy and chemistry aren’t cooling the earth down.
I’m not settling for a summer spent arguing about whether I’m the one.
I am.

I’ve tattooed my mind with the people who love me.
Your name’s already faded away.

I still haven’t unpacked.
You still haven’t fixed the light bulb in my hallway.
It’s all so fleeting.

So fleeting, so for now, I’ll settle for something I can’t put into words, (I’m a city girl.)
while I wait for something to feel like home. (New York is perfect for me.)

But, right now, I don’t need balloons or water towers.
I have you.
You have let go of me
I have to go.

When We Sleep

You could (‘ve) be (en) the love of my lifetime.
Simple like staying in bed on a Saturday morning, the dim light pouring through my windows.

We keep writing our story, pages pushed aside.
When it’s over, we’ll have learned novels of lessons.
When we sleep, we’re still learning each other.

and I’ve told you a dozen times,
it’s never too late for now.

The calendar tells me it’s springtime.
Another season, gone like the days of shoelaces and sleeping bags.
So let’s move on, together.

and keep on practicing for the real thing.

Minutes to Miles

I’ve been searching my entire life for a moment I can’t explain, buried beneath the floorboards and under a bed–not sure if it’s mine or yours.

I think I found it;

But I wonder if you: remember my wit,
or the moment I forget what I’m thinking,
or me at my ripest, forgetting who I’ve forgiven, turning my back on the sunshine.
(did you find it, too?)

I think I’m my own worst enemy—but I like the enemy, a lot.

If daylight was painted green,
I’d pretend to turn off the lights so our hearts could ignite under the sky.

Some people are here to show us what we deserve.

I just want the chance to cross another bridge with you.

Turning to Spring

—

I’ve always felt at home in the city that never sleeps.

But I can barely breathe in the town where I sleep.

Where I come from, there’s no such thing as  gravel road or a farmer’s family.

–

No one ever said growing up would be easy;

but I guess no one ever grew up thousands of miles away from home.

I’m turning to spring… where the trees turn green;

the sky lights up the night, and my hands are warm.

I’m turning to spring, where I feel alive in the sunshine;

and I think it’ll start to feel like home

when my smile can’t hide behind pink lips, and the chill of winter is behind me.

holidays won’t be an option; and hours meant for sleeping won’t make my heart (and eyes) feel so heavy.

You told me I wouldn’t fall apart.

I won’t.

 

Inspiration Vacation

We’re a couple of sleepless souls, but if you would, I’d

Rest my bones on yours and show you the secrets behind my scars.

Sink your teeth into my heart. Put me on the

Front burner, and I’ll bury your

Dreams on my balcony and kiss you on the mouth.

The screams of summer have been silenced and now the

Sidewalks need sweeping, but when I brush my

Skin on yours I feel like I’ve never been afraid of anything, and the

Bridges of your back bring me home.

When I feel like I don’t have one anymore.

I don’t.

Getting There.

I turned heat on for the first time in my adult life. I know it sounds so trivial, but there are so many things I’m realizing I haven’t done yet …and now that I live in a place that gets bitterly cold, there are plenty more new experiences to come. I love new experiences.

I’m learning a lot. I think every day is a learning experience, and I feel immersed in what I am doing. It’s a pretty great feeling when you leave after a long day of work and you feel accomplished, and that hard work really does pay off.

I think sometimes it’s hard to stay grounded when I sit here, miles away from all the people I love and the people who love me, with the places I know so well so far behind me. At times I wonder what I would be doing had I decided to move back to Sevilla, the greatest place I’ve ever known… or what I’d be doing back in Tempe with the people who I love and understand the most. But then I am reminded, I’ve left and made so many places feel like home, and all the people I’ve left behind won’t ever leave my heart or mind.

And I hope I’ve left my mark on the people and places like they’ve left on me.

Things get hard when I have to go to bed at 7 p.m. It’s a crazy feeling; it sometimes feels surreal. But I love it. It inspires me. It drives me. And this is something I want to do for the rest of my life. I am now certain it is. That alone drives and inspires me.

I gave up a lot to start my career at 21. I gave up late nights of partying, traveling around Europe, and being surrounded by my best friends. But I know it’s worth it.

I guess I’m just settling in. I think growing up is hard to do, especially after the four years I had at ASU & in Spain. But I think I’m getting there.