Just one of those days?

The day went kind of smooth today; had class, went to class, and dropped off some things downtown. Spent most of my day at school, in and out of it, and then hung out at a friend's place. Got into this huge conversation about American soft power, and Republics, brushed across Ernesto Guevara, and even touched on the Boston Tea party; or the origins, there-about. Briefly mentioned writing and allowed time to focus on the upcoming future. But, mainly on civilization, and where it is headed. What I am doing in school and all that jazz; then, somehow, someway, a little bit later, the conversation focused on my English Professor. She is pretty cool, but one of the last people I thought would know in common with a perfect stranger. He mentioned the first name of a friend of his, then noted something about her, and I supplied her last name for him. Huh...it is one of those things that kind of tap you on the shoulder and go, "Hey, you need to pay attention to this." You, see, my English Professor is the one that will be editing my book - and if you are reading this, I am working dilligently on it - and it all seemed like a little sign. One of those puzzle pieces fitting together, so to speak. It makes me realize that my calling is to be a writer, that all these things happen for a reason, for my own purpose. It is like another friend of mine, Caitlynn: we both know the same person, and in the same fashion, we both found out by my giving a description of something, and her acknowledgement of the same place. She mentioned a friend who talked of it, said her first name, and I dallied up her last. She also died a few years ago, not too many summers ago. And Caitlynn's connection to writing? Only that the last time she wrote for herself, was when Katie Maddox died. Funny hey? Not funny ha-ha, or funny amusing, and definitely not funny like a clown. I miss her sometimes, and I have her picture on my wall so I know she is always around. Tonight also taught me that I love the art of conversation, even though it sometimes seems to be getting fazed out. The things you may find out if you only listened instead of waiting for your turn to interrupt.

"Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul."
- Oscar Wilde

Down comes the pedestal...

Peaceful: (peece-ful) adj. peace; free from worry, trouble, etc.

Warrior: (worr-ee-ur) n. a soldier or fighter experienced in battle

I spoke to her tonight about so many different things, the most important being us. The fact that she is playing the game safe from all angles, and more than that; that I cannot do it anymore. It takes so much of me to tell her what she means to me, only to have her tell me that she does not feel the same. You know what sucks more than that? The idea that she hides from me...I know I am going to pay for that, but I could not say it tonight. I told her it will be the last I speak of it to her, but it will not be the last I write of it. How many of you out there have had a person touch you in a place you never knew existed? She has and I cannot help but tell her what that means to me...what she means to me. This is not a sad story people, it is not meant to make you cry, or feel similar emotions, or anything like that. It is my way of understanding why things happen to me in my life, why these angels seem to feel that I am a place of solace and compassion. Tonight, I spoke of a pedestal that is built for two - that the person in my life would be up there with me, to view our world together. I was wrong...it took another woman to explain that to me tonight. A pedestal is not what is needed, for they are usually made of soft crystal, and bound to come crashing down around you. A platform is key, yes, but it is one that will be built with two sets of hands, not one; and will be built in tandem, not man-made. This is the hardest thing I will ever do, to deny feelings, and keep my thoughts hidden from her. I just cannot go on like this anymore, I am just not able to do it to her, but, especially, will not do it to myself anymore. You know what is really funny about it all? She understands...of course she understands because that is Nelly's way, right? She speaks of signs, and I plan on disregarding the ones that come my way. I only know of the most important sign of them all: That I am on the right path, and finally headed in the right direction again. When it all comes down to it, I am doing this for me because when the time comes for her, and she sees me for who and what I truly am...then I can look her in the eyes and see the truth for myself. Like I told her - she will either give me mine back, or grant me something in return. I am sorry, but I do hope you understand why I am doing what I am doing. Who am I kidding...of course you understand.

"Para o bom entendedor, meia palavra basta."
- Brasilian saying