events become feelings, feelings become events

it's about exactly three years ago to the minute that you got yourself kicked out of that midnight volleyball game and flopped down next to me, feet kicked up behind you. funny to think that three years ago, i was trying to get over a breakup but didn't quite yet realize that i was already exactly where i needed to be. funny to think that the two kids drunkenly laughing in the grass three years ago had no idea what life had in store for them, and could only think about the night and the moment and the smell of the grass and the sand that turned up between our sheets the next morning. march 2009 was one of the happiest times of my life - the heralding both of spring and of a new life for me - a new life that, i'd come to realize, was always meant to be shared with you. here's to those two kids smiling at the ground, breathing in the south bend night air and the start of a time full of wonder, of beginnings, of the finding of something you've been searching for your whole life.

you always told me you wished you could get a postcard from your future saying, "everything turns out ok, everything turns out ok." but i think if we really had that postcard and that power, we'd hold back on sending it, because the thrill of figuring it out for ourselves was just too wonderful to be true. and yet, it was true: every sun-drenched moment, every moon-kissed minute, every, every, every.

i wear my heart upon my sleeve, like a big deal

living in the present is hard
when you're stuck somewhere in between
neither a rock nor a hard place but
living underground, holding your breath, waiting
for the chance to go outside
the sun is warm on your face but the gray clouds betray the sky's intent
and when the droplets drip then tumble down upon you
all you think is, i should have known
some days feel more real than others but still
you're living in a twilight zone
diamond on your hand catching the light of your childhood bedside lamp
sleeping with a teddy bear when you'd rather it was he by your side
all your ages coming together at once and looking at you, wondering
where you came from, and where you're going
time goes by both fast and slow
and life is like a pile of papers on a desk, building steadily
as you think, i'll get to it tomorrow
and then tomorrow's just the same
and the way this feels
can't be translated to handwriting or pixels
so you close your eyes, head tipped back, heart full to bursting
and as you type you know it's not what you had in mind
but somehow it helps all the same