fresh pair of eyes.

Birthday

Putting you on notice
That I notice you
Though, I never really wanted to
But you’ve always been there
I guess
and I guess
I just never noticed
I’ve caught your stare
A few times, I think
Think I even made you
Smile
I know I did
But I'm pretty sure
I made you think
Maybe not as much as me
Or maybe you just won’t admit it
And that's ok
But I know
Even for a blink in time
I had you shook
and you saw me shine
Bringing out a playful side
That’s been hiding and
Patiently waiting
For a reason 
or a season
just a small moment in time
where my girly side was feeling safe
and nothing could replace
This feeling
Feeling free
For the first time
in a long time
the funny thing is
It wasn’t even about you
more about me
But I’m glad it was you
Who for a second
saw me
Who I am
You sought me
And I couldn’t fight it
You tried to look
And I couldn’t hide it
Not sure what that day meant
But I know
I noticed you
And for a split sec
I think
you noticed me
too.

Above is a poem I just found that I wrote over 4 years ago, about a special person and a special birthday that left me feeling like the happiest and luckiest birthday girl in the city of angels. So much has changed since then, but I will always have this moment. Cheers to my best friend, for finding the quote that states that in our lives its moments that are remembered. This one holds a special place in my heart. <3

jesuis aime'

(Image: Sergio Rossi ad)

Love and Wednesaday



Wednesday

I was meant to love you.
Love you, like I did that Wednesday.
And not in an obsessive
I can’t breath without you kind of way.
But in the way it feels when
millions of butterflies are dancing in the bellies
of those sharing a first kiss.
Nervous and flawed,
Not perfect but always honest in its intentions.
I remember falling asleep
To the rhythm of your heart beat.
The beats sounding like waves breaking on cliffs
Beautiful, strong, silent.
Having never felt a real closeness to another human being,
I realized on Thursday
I was truly a part of something special, intimate.
A secret language of lovers, honest and real.
I found purpose in loving you.
And not that I mean my purpose is you.
But I found purpose and truth
in my ability to love so freely, and be so giving.
Never perfect just honest and warm.
In the moonlight and breeze of the pacific ocean
I knew I belonged to you
As much as you to me.
In this moment and vulnerability, I found myself.
I was connected to my heart, and my heart connected to you.
Like puzzles pieces no matter where they are placed
There is only one true and perfect fit.
I had no doubt we were a part of moments larger the we knew.
Understanding love and the universe, sacred things.
Distance would soon separate us,
But having seen lifetimes in your eyes,
and melting into warm embraces I hadn’t known
And will never stop hoping to feel again.
I find comfort in this memory, where sadness is a gaping hole.
We were never perfect only honest about feelings
and instincts.
Tuesday brought sadness
I will never forget, and not one of loss
But one of knowing it would be long
Before I felt these things again
Years later, we are still not perfect
But honestly connected
Because we shared secrets
Most will never know.
And I guess it was never meant to be perfect
But it was honest, soulful, and full of life.
And I was meant to love you, maybe not everyday
But just on Wednesdays when I find myself alone
And being honest.

*Original poem written by me over a year ago, edited, revised, revisited and loved again. Not perfect, just an honest reflection of a very real moment in my past life.

Jesuis Aime'

(image: classy-in-the-city.tumblr.com)

happy place.

happy place.
I hate that I still get nervous when you call.
Even after all these years, the butterflies are still there.
I hate that when I convince myself to forget and let go,
that stupid song comes on the radio, out of no where, for no reason!
I hate how when I think about the happiest time in my life
we are back on the road up the coast and driving through miles of smiling cows.
I even hate that my simple pleasures, my hobbies, all somehow lead me back to you
And remind me of the times I spent beading butterflies and prayer beads
Stuffing envelopes full of love and me
I hate that sometimes when I close my eyes and silence the noise in my life
I can hear your voice whispering “sweet baby” and feel goose bumps still.
Vividly I remember the scent of your skin in the morning pacific ocean air
And the places we were in, and the many stolen kisses under sunlight, moonlight
And everything in between.
I hate that I feel breathless and almost childish each time you paint me beautiful.
I seem to forget feeling anything but happily peaceful when I listen to your sighs.
I hate that no matter how much I say I hate these things
It never seems to change how I feel about you.
Most of all I hate that I know I can feel this way about someone
And be without them, missing them, and feeling jipped .
And to be completely honest I have never hated how I feel
Only that you’ve never known how much I hate that you are not here
That I am not there and that we are not on that road, looking at happy cows
And catching a glimpse of what happy looks and smells like…

Another original poem written over a year ago, edited, revised, and I think finished for now. A happy memory, and a happy place...how I wish I could smell that ocean air on the cliff..and wave at the happy cows on my way to the purest happy moment my heart has ever known....

Jesuis Aime'

(image: sunsurfer.tumblr.com)

the language of letting go.

Sometimes you just have to keep that past in it's place, so that you can remain in the present and keep hopeful of the future. No matter how deep the pain runs, how much the memories sting, we have to remember that it is now over. And while we can not change what has happened, we can learn, grow stronger, and overcome obstacles displaying the highest of our human potential. We have survived and lived to breath another day. We can forgive ourselves mostly, and learn to love and laugh again without fear. Perhaps scarred, and a  little bruised, but always knowing that we made it through and can find our spirits reborn from anguish to shine brighter. I'll be completely honest, I didn't use to think this. I would hear it said more times that I care to repeat. But it took what it took, and finally I felt and believed these words in my bones. I felt myself rising from ashes not to forget the mess I made, but to understand that in that bloody mess, I found myself. I was able to take my own hand and walk out of the tunnel shining my own flashlight to the end. I was able to quiet mini storms of my regrets, doubts, anger and fears in order to listen to the tiny voice inside my heart, I had forgotten was there. When all is said and done, I can now say that I helped save myself, purely out of my own recognition of self worth and love. I also owe infinite thanks to the many hands that silently and invisibly kept me from failing too deep, that created pockets of love around every part of my being. From the birds in the trees singing morning songs about new days, to the leaves blowing freely on the wings of the wind, to the sweet purity in my nephew's laughter. I realized how small the chaos was in the grander scheme of things. My bad days were lessons in humility I had left to learn. And just as I once read, it may not always come wrapped in a pretty bow, but LIFE still remains and will always be a gift.

Jesuis Aime'

memories and rambling...

memories and ramblings.

My love for you is rooted in memories.

And I’ve often wondered if they’ll fade with time?

We have.

It all seems so long ago…

Sometimes I ask myself if they feel the same as when we made them.

Asking myself if they are as real as the empty void I have left.

A gaping hole taunted with memories of everything we had

I read old letters and look at pictures

Things seemed so different then.

Both guided by what was in our hearts, ruled by feeling and need.

We both were different then.

Me, in my innocence and willingness to be swept away by you.

You’ve seen the very part of me no one else has seen.

Vulnerability, unguarded, unconditional willingness to love and be loved back.

The look in your eyes has always been so peaceful.

A saving grace when the reality of this world is too much for me to bare

So willing to gaze me at ease.

My ego wonders if the price we paid was worth it.

We swam in many rivers fighting currents and our fears.

Many voices of concern and mocking what we attempted to make work

And here we are today…

So separate, so distant…

And yet while you look back with fondness in your reveries of our past,

I can’t seem to let the feelings and memories go...

I use to think it was you, grasping

…at the only pieces of myself

left open…and available…

Now I realize it’s been my soul clutching

To you…my escape from loneliness.

My love…

Things are so confusing now...

And these memories…

Are like ghosts haunting my heart and thoughts.

Pointing out my missteps, reflections, future and my need for a happier present.

And it’s so easy getting lost in you…my happy place

My most peaceful state…

The scent of you still lingers like heavy hearts and my heart bound like hands

Clutching to keep reality at bay

I think about the words that left me then, which I speak in silence that

My love grows still and always, and these, my memories

count passing days hoping to manifest in flesh…again.

An original poem written about a year ago, reworked and edited, like all my writing is still and probably will always will be a work in progress.

Jesuis Aime'

(image: details to come)

Excerpts and such

Ok, so I had another idea (or rant) to jot down as a part of this idea for a story I have swimming in my head. Once again, written in the shower. (I need a separate post to explain my affinity towards creative ideas that tend to happen in the shower)...anyhow here's another moment from my future novel!

"And so it seemed to me that everyone seemed to be getting married but me. And if they're not getting hitched, they're becoming engaged, living together, or parents. And then there's me, NO husband, NO boyfriend, NO baby, and not even the slightest idea as to when this is suppose to happen. My mother said to me the other day, "you know, you're not letting me die in peace." As I glanced at her with a look that can only be described as a cross between confusion and being mortified (at what she was going to say next) she says " I want to see you happy, with your own family, and it's just not happening." As if that wasn't bad enough, it gets followed up by an email from my brother about online dating sites and his future birthday gifts to me. My brother, my older brother who never even so much as talked to me about dating is GIVING ME tips! Is the world conspiring against me to return me to my days of awkward teenage girl writing bad poetry trolling AOL chat rooms?  I look to heavens wondering if God was still listening, and I think to myself, something has really got to give. Having a "Carrie" moment, I couldn't help but wonder, "always the bridesmaid, and never the bride" or "always the godmother, and never the mother" and I suddenly started to wonder is it to late to become a nun?"

Jesuis Aime'

(image via refinery29.com)

Novel Idea

The idea of being able to disappear from the routine of my everyday life to go and experience the world with new eyes has always been a dream. To then come bcak and become a hermit and write a novel about these experiences or the stories that develop as a result is another dream I have yet to fulfill. I have been writing since my horrid teen years. it has always been my escape from the life that sometimes chooses us more then we choose it. Just as a good book can serve as a much needed mental vacation, writing to me is a much needed emotional break from myself. Because I tend to write in spurts, from time to time I will post excerpts of my someday completed novel. (haha) Below, is one such piece of inspired writing that came to me one day while I was in the shower (or as I like to call my sanctuary) more on that later...

"Suddenly there he was, and everything I ever knew about love suddenly didn't matter. What mattered was this moment, in which two people that felt like they had no more left to give, discovered  they had eachother. There was no visible fireworks or the romantic sounds of rain, there was just two people standing honestly and with both hearts open. My own movie moment I thought, and though this guy was not as I had always dreamed he would be, he was everything I never realized I needed. Suddenly my mothers' word flashed across my mind, she always said "life doesn't always give you what you think you want, but is merely waiting for you to open yourself to what you really need." We stood silent for a long time, both hearts beating fast, and as the sun set, smiles beamed from our faces. I don't remember quite what he said, but I remember the warm grasp of his hand clutching mine, and the scent of him as I lay my head on his shoulder, and how safe I felt in this vulnerability. We walked with renewed purpose, and a thirst to really get to know eachother this time. And as we were seated in the corner of the most perfect coffee shop, I still didn't know if this was my perfect ending, but I was sure that this was the perfect beginning on the rode to carving my own slice of happiness."

Jesuis Aime¢

(image via sminspiration.tumblr.com)