My heart strings and yours.

"An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of the time, the place, or the circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but it will never break."

I never planned on meeting you. I wasn't hoping to get my heart invested in this place or this group or these mountains. I tried to guard my soul. But as I got closer to my new home, my whole being danced in the slack of the red thread between you and me. It had been pulled taut for so long but the connection was certain. I couldn't avoid it. My little finger was tied to your little finger and no matter how much it was pulled and knotted, I was destined to be here in this place, at this time, with YOU. All of you. 

You have made me laugh so hard I thought my abs would never recover. You have made me cry so much I thought my tear ducts would be eternally empty. You have made me feel more confident in myself than I've ever felt in my life. You have made me question myself and examine myself closer in the mirror and wonder what I'm doing wrong. You have understood me better than anyone. You have made me feel alone and unloved. You have taught me to love others unconditionally. You have taught me patience. You have made me a better me. You have made me sing and dance and run and scream and I can't thank you enough.

That red thread will always connect us, no matter the distance of time and space. I will always walk with a lighter step because there's a fine union between my heart and yours--and that union only became fonder as we swayed in accord, walked for a cure, and sent praises heavenward. 

"I'd like to believe everyone who comes across this blog was destined to do so for one reason or another". In some small way, whether I know you well or not, you have touched my life and I hope I've touched yours; for wherever our paths go, we will forever have this red thread--this life line--that binds us together. And it will never be severed. 

When you are bored during an AP test...

Haikus aplenty:

I hate AP tests;
they are no good for my brain.
Let summer begin.

With mouth open wide,
the heaven's light was absorbed
and knowledge received.

You do not steal hearts,
my dear, you're more devious.
You steal fingerprints.

Darker the night fall
and deeper the stark silence
when you are not here.

No love at first sight.
Though I saw you first today,
I knew you before.

In my eighteen years,
I've learned that life is about
taking wild risks.

Windows down, bare feet.
There is nothing more perfect
than those summer nights.

Happiness, my dear,
is not a goal to achieve,
but a way to live.

The light, effulgent,
penetrated my great soul,
and God smiled down.

Palpitations

Her cheek felt smooth and cold on the stone,
but that wasn't what enticed her to stay; 
it was the steady beat
that radiated from something so solid. 
She was no animist, 
but she felt a pulse in that pillar
that was life-bearing, 
familiar, 
for it was the rhythm
she had been dancing to 
for eighteen years. 
It was not only contained in that stone, 
but it embraced her universe--
perpetually reciprocal to the electricity in her heart.
 
Her mind steadied as she felt the beat on her cheekbone 
but the current in her veins experienced a short. 
She had, what the doctors call, 
a palpitation. 
The short sent her heart beating 
for one tantalizing, breathtaking moment, 
and then, an awakening--
the rhythm that had dominated her existence since 
her mother's womb was 
changing. 
Her heart's sporadic throbbing
was only a symptom
of the cosmos
shifting. 

Peaches

Your cheeks always reminded me of peaches. They were perfectly round and soft and sweet and life-colored when you smiled. I used to rub my cheeks on yours so mine would be as beautiful. As you carried me up those sentimental stairs, I whimpered because I didn't want to be banished to a room, far away from you. I wrapped my arms around your neck and pressed my dimples to yours. You stopped on the staircase and looked me in the eyes with tenderness. You told me I was precious. That helped me relent to the rest of the journey to your great, pine bed. My little body felt littler in the king-sized covers, but when you climbed into bed next to me, your arms were my comfort. 

The ritual of nap time endeared me to you. First, we would decide whether to sleep side to side, front to back, back to back, or front to front. I remember I thought I might hurt your feelings if I said, "back to back," because it meant we wouldn't be as close. Then, we would practice what "Goodnight Moon" taught  us, and say goodnight to every object in the room. "Goodnight window. Goodnight ceiling. Goodnight dresser. Goodnight pillow." We would say goodnight until there weren't anymore goodnights to be said. I always woke up from my nap to find you were no longer there, and that sent me into a moment of panic. Knowing you were just one floor away brought me relief.

It's all very poignant because the bones of that child you put down for naps are the same bones that live inside of me today. I still sit next to you on the second row and look at your peachy cheeks and hope I inherit your beauty. I still hold you as tight as I can because I know these are fleeting moments. You still tell me I'm precious. And now I'm crying because our "goodnights" are becoming goodbyes. "Goodbye window. Goodbye ceiling. Goodbye dresser. Goodbye pillow." Soon, I will turn over in my springy dorm room bed and you really won't be there and my panic will not be assuaged by the knowledge that you are just downstairs in your office.  

But here's to the electricity between our souls and the dancing in the family room. Here's to the yearning after knowledge and the badgers in the backyard. Here's to the divine talks and the giggling past curfew. Here's to the exploring and the accordion man that made our night so quintessential. And here's to the many more dimpley, peachy cheeks ahead, for after I pack all my t-shirts and journals and move to that springy dorm room bed, we still have eternity together; and we'll never run out of good mornings and hellos.

Happy Mother's Day, best friend.

A haiku about how I felt tonight.

Every bone inside

Wants to be anti-social

And I must fight them.