Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Girl In The Arena by Lisa Haines


336 Pages.

Favorite quotes:

Still pending.

I liked the idea of the story of a modern female gladiator. I enjoyed the edgy side of the protagonist, and I like the "sci-fi" they added with the whole machine that makes her dead fathers look like they are really alive. However, I am kind of a grammar prick. I could not get passed the incorrect conversational grammar. I do admit, this is more of a personal thing, which may have no effect on the actual story; which was actually a fun concept to read in modern times, instead of the usual Colosseum/Roman settings.

Her Daughters Dream by Francine Rivers


592 Pages.

Favorite quotes:

"God loved her, even if no one else could." - Page 132

"Life without him was as colorless as the apartment." -Page 400

"They curled together like two spoons in a drawer." - Page 408

This book does great justice for so many torn relationships, not just in the book, but in real life. It's amazing how most of us will never care to find out the true story behind the pain someone may have caused us. It gives us all a great lesson on understanding and forgiveness.

Monday, February 20, 2017

Loving You With All My Pieces

It is a recondite concept that of one being whole.
Is one whole when you are one entire piece?
What if an entire piece shatters, but you still have all the pieces?
Is that, then, not whole anymore? Or whole, but in fragments?
What if it is in fragments awaiting to be sculpted together?

Will it be whole once sculpted? Or has it been whole as it is frozen still in bits and fractions?

I find that the answer doesn't matter at times.
Finding joyful fulfillment or dire dissatisfaction in the answer
It would make the difference that one drop of water would make in a desert.
It doesn't matter if my heart is whole or not.
I love you with all it's pieces, whether it is in one piece or one hundred of them.

Have you seen me love you?
Have you watched me fall in love with you?
I lost count how many times it has happened.
And every single instance of falling in love with you is astonishing.
It is like in-taking the sunset saying goodbye, as it tucks itself into an orange blanket of glistening rays.

Except you don't know how to say goodbye; you just disappear.
Did you have withdrawals of me when you left? Torturing reminisces?
Or did I become the ashes that filled an urn in the corner of your memories?
It was as if I became a mirage of gloominess, walking the shadowy streets.
Visible, but invisible; alive and undead at the same time.

Do you have any idea of the catastrophic wounds you so disastrously declared on my heart?

Loving you is the easiest thing I have never had to try to do.
It is effortless, a survival instinct; like breathing.
I've never had to try to breathe. It just is.
It's like opening my lids to wake up.
Or like putting a foot in front of the other to walk.

There is no experience more vibrant, more amazing, or more satisfying than loving you.
It's like walking into the art gallery of life
And your whole being inducing your mind to choose one painting to stop your heart.
And so The Mind blackmails The Heart saying it will let my heart beat again
But only if it chooses you.

So how do I let go without ripping out a part of me?

For years I thought that forever was a long time.
I couldn't fathom such a significant & life-changing commitment compressed in a few vows.
And now I am at the watchtower of this goodbye with an eagle eye's view.
Everything looks so small, delicate, fragile, brittle, but still tangibly in reach.
Forever is a long time for most, but for us it was too short.

So now, as I walk away to the shards of glass that were once my heart
I stare at it with betraying eyes, as I lie telling it "we will be okay."
However, the truth is that she will simply manage
Manage to piece her heart back together with lethargic emotions, numb senses, and aloof enjoyment.
Or maybe she will just leave it there, in scraps; useless residue in what is now a grey & cloudy world.

So I ask again the inconsequential question:

Since my heart is in bits and chunks, but all the pieces are there, is it still whole?

Regardless, it's still my heart. And I love you with every single one of its pieces.

Sunday, February 12, 2017

Knock, Knock, Knock (Who's there?)

A: Knock, knock, knock
B: Who's there?
A: It is he, looking for a whole heart.
B: I'm sorry to say, it is not me.

B: Knock, knock, knock
A: Who's there?
B: It is she, a broken heart.
A: I'm sorry to say, I did that.

He fell in love
With a whole heart:
Strong & adventurous
A heart with no fears.

But he changed it all.
He made it vulnerable
& fragile. Full of fear.
Dismantled it into particles.

He wants to keep loving a whole heart.
She tried to teach him to love a broken one.
She thought he could learn.
He said that he would.

But he kept slipping into the comfortability...
Of loving a whole heart.
Little did he know...
He was only juggling
All the broken pieces.

"I miss you" he said
With a knock, knock, knock.
But he missed the heart he fell in love with...
Whole and ready to conquer all.

Oh, how she wishes that he would want to love her broken heart...
After all, it was him who broke it.
But simple requests became complex
And her eagerness for time, a beggar's desire.

Pictures became stabs.
His public announcements of love morphed into the sting of a thousand bees.
Each word with its own formula of poison.
Every secretive silence
A forest's fire of fear, fiercely spreading.

How could she teach him to love a broken heart?
When all he wanted was to love a whole heart wholeheartedly?
Yet, the equation for it was so transparent and effortless...
Or so she thought.

She did not have what he wanted to love so comfortably.
That same comfortability with which he abandoned her heart; left her alone.
It is now, also the same comfortability with which he announces his happiness with another.

She did not have the whole heart that he so desperately wanted to love.

A: Knock, knock, knock
B: _________________

And so she left.