When we were younger…


I remember when we were younger.
When did our lives pass us by?

Like a blur of colors
Lost in the sea of motion
The days are long
But the years fly

It seems almost impossible
That this is us now
When just yesterday we were new

They always told us then
To hang on to our youth
For when its gone so are you

We are now lost
Lost in what we used to be
Stuck between this world of yesterday and fantasy

But much like before
We will build memories for tomorrow
For this melancholy feeling of the past
Will only build hopes for prosperity tomorrow


Meet Me at Half Court

It does not matter what age you are romantic blunders, mishaps, dilemmas, and drama begin at birth. Drama does not discriminate based on age, sex, gender, or sexuality. If you want to unite the world share a simple dramatic moment and you will begin to realize we are not all that different.

The line dividing the center court in the gym did not mean offence and defense for St Thomas Moore’s kindergarten class. This line was the sacred division that separated the boys and the girls at recess. For a young heart in love this line divided all that mattered in the world. It meant twenty minutes of separation from the blonde haired blue eyed boy that I shared every secret with. The line dividing center court prevented this relationship to expand to dodge ball, jump rope, hop scotch, and tag. Blondie and I would meet right in the center, ignoring all our friends’ demands to play other games. We put all these temptations aside and made our relationship work. This was until my brothers and father learned about our secret love affair. Looking back it’s obvious that they were more amused with the circumstances than worried; however, when you are six years old and in love the approval from adults means more than that line dividing you two at recess. I stopped going to center court to meet with Blondie in fear that the eyes in the back of my father’s head would be able to see that far. Shortly after another girl from my class started meeting him at half way mark. My six year old soul was crushed and my six year old heart was broken. All that had mattered about recess was soon taken from me. This was until I discovered dodge ball.

Today, my half court has grown. The dividing line is much thicker now and it does not represent the division between offence and defense. This line is the Atlantic Ocean and it separates North America from Europe; him from me. I met him while studying abroad, a musician that captivated my heart. His hair is not blonde and his eyes are not blue, but this love story is not much different from the one that crushed my heart over sixteen years ago. The pain is just as real and the emotions involved are just as complex. The division became too much to handle and the second I backed away another girl stepped in. Left with nothing more than my education to distract me.

These moments define us. These moments shape us. These moments give us character. Remember these moments. As life progresses you will soon realize that your problems from St Thomas Moore’s kindergarten class are no different than your dilemmas from Professor Kim’s undergraduate class. We will always have that Blondie we will go to half court for and suddenly when things do not work out we will find something new to distract us. Years down the road our old stories will simply be stories and no longer problems, forgetting that our new obstacle are not that much different. Learn from life’s lessons and continue down this path with confidence knowing that when the cycle repeats itself you will be prepared. Dividing lines and public approval- we’ve all been there. Know you will always have someone to confide in because we are not all that different. 

Distracted by Sirens

My head is pressed down on the cold kitchen counter with my eyes closed. I hear the banging of pots and pans as my dad prepares dinner. “I hate boys” I told my father as he shuffles through the refrigerator. “Well, ya know, Kate, boys are stupid and I don’t blame you.” I sat there thinking my mind was made up, this is it, I will never date again. I hate the feeling of disappointment after so much anticipation. It’s like flat champagne when you’re expecting the POP!

My dad could sense my disappointment. When I picked up my head and noticed my father staring at me, “Kate, do you know the meaning of love… love is the feeling of responsibility for someone else’s happiness.” Until then I never really knew how to describe love. I have been out searching for this magical feeling but really had no idea what I was looking for. I’ve always had such wonderful examples of love in my life, but never REALLY understood what it meant. I look at my father and his love for my mother. I think of my grandparents and their kept promise of till death do them part. I also think of their journey to finding each other.

Love is like pirates and treasure. Love is gold. Love is hard to find. And the journey to discovering love is priceless. Even if I never do find the treasure the journey getting there has been filled with glorious tales of the high seas. Homer and the Odyssey. I will now no longer look at disappointing dates/relationships as flat champagne, but rather Odysseus’ trip home to Penelope. Each terrible date is just a swerve off the road distracted by sirens. One day, hopefully, maybe, I will be in a place much like the wonderful examples in my life; but if not, I have one hell of a story to tell.

The Junk Drawer

Everyone has that drawer… the top one… filled with all your belongings that don’t really fit anywhere. Mini stapler, used post-it notes that you may (or may not) get back to, bobby pins, random necklace you never put in its proper place, receipts from Godonlyknowswhere, earbuds that no longer work, an empty pack of cigarettes that were never yours to begin with, and an outdated issue of vogue. This is the junk drawer. When spring cleaning comes around the majority of those things will wind up on the trash; but, until then rests the items that are rarely needed and often forgotten.

 Sometimes we are like that with people. That friend we only call when everyone else is busy, that boy we only mention when we’re looking for a boost of confidence, and that family member we just happen to remember when rent is due. I wish I could tell you that I’ve never been in that drawer, and I wish I could tell you that I’ve never put someone in that drawer. I have been there, done that, and I am not proud of either.

The best way to avoid this (for both scenarios) is to take a step back, be silent, and observe. Evaluate your relationships and evaluate yourself. Sometimes we are so caught up in our daily routine we don’t realize the harm we are causing other people and we fail to see the harm other people may be causing us. One day you may realize that the boy you call for confidence might be the only gentleman you know. He might actually be what is right for you. At that point it is too late. Just like that post-it you threw away during spring cleaning with the forgotten pin number written on it… OOPS.

 Just remember when putting people in that drawer, they may be your last resort but you could be their number one priority. That top drawer is for junk you’d rather not deal with, it is not intended for people. For those that I have put in my drawer: this is a public apology. And to that boy who only calls when things are sour: this is a public announcement that it’s too late. 

“All men are bastards and if you forget it they will remind you.”

There are countless men that have come and gone; just don’t ask me to name them all because I won’t remember their names. Out of all these men there has been a beginning and an end. The key factor in an unsuccessful relationship is the end. If there is never an end you’re you are either extremely unhappy or in a successful relationship. Some relationships are so terrible that you learn something; some relationships are so wonderful that you learn nothing. The bad ones, the ones that truly make you want to punch a wall, are the greatest and let me tell you why.

Branden, the most remembered out of all those countless men. I will forever know his name, even if I am struck with a tragedy that causes amnesia. Branden is known for the flowers, candy, and love notes. Sounds like a catch? Hardly; these gifts only followed after competitive screaming matches over meaningless disagreements. What did I learn from this two year vacation from reality? Everything I need to know about men.

Men lie, men cheat, men can rarely be trusted. Throughout this tale you should remember that there are exceptions to the rules; but you must know what is the rule and what is the exception. Men lie, men cheat, men can never be trusted- the rule. “But, my cousin Becky is dating this incredible gentleman from San Diego, they’ve been together since the second grade!”- the exception. Let’s be honest ladies, because this is all about honesty, men are bastards and we must never forget it. This wisdom (or bitterness) can all be achieved by a Branden.

During a relationship with Branden your heart will be torn, your perception of reality will be warped, and yet you will still keep your eyes fixated on him. Once the relationship is over the hypnosis will not yet be broken; it isn’t until you spend an incredible night out on the town with your girlfriends that you will achieve your single glow and become enlightened. There is life after death.

You must think of an awful relationship like Plato’s Allegory of the Cave. A prisoner sits in the darkness of a cave chained to the wall. He has been there for so long that he no longer knows about anything other than the dancing shadows in front of him. One day this prisoner is able to break free. He turns around and notices the shadows are simply projections from a fire and puppets. Suddenly, his reality is altered. The prisoner is intrigued and continues to walk out of the cave. The prisoner notices and light at the end of the tunnel. He follows it. As he gets closer he realizes soon that he is outside. The light so bright hurts his eyes. The prisoner then wants nothing more than to go back into the darkness. As he goes back everything seems idiotic, unwise, and fake. He then decides he’d rather be outside of the cave in the light of reality than in the dark shadows of ignorance.

Now, this may be bitterness but I would rather look at it as enlightenment. Seeing couples reminds me of nothing more than sitting in the cave looking at the shadows on the wall. Leaving a relationship is like walking towards the light; sometimes it hurts to see reality so you go back to that person; but, once you leave the cave you remember how much better it is to be single than watching the shadows on the wall.