Twenty Sixteen, This Is How I Want to Remember You

A lot of life happened this year.

Time moved slowly when things got tough, and sped up when it was all really good. I was clumsy with my heart and unkind to myself when I should have only poured love into my soul. Not all moments that were captured were perfect, and all the undocumented ones happen to be some of my favorite. I learned a bit about what we’ve got to do to be happy- with ourselves, our lives, and our world.

Not all things last forever. Not all people will stay. But it’s the things that last and the one’s who do that I will carry with me moving into this next turn around the sun. I stopped waiting. Stopped waiting for tomorrow, for that someone to call, for the next big ‘moment’ to celebrate. That’s when life grew ten fold- when I started, just started something. Started running when I wanted to do a half marathon. Started saying no when I usually would have said yes. Started smiling at strangers more. Started practicing a lot of self love. I learned to stop looking down at the pavement and my phone- I was awe struck at least once a day, by something beautiful.

The music stayed constant, headphones and speakers turned all the way up. I kept on dancing even when all the lights came on and there were no more songs. I sang a lot of ‘Sweet Disposition’ in the shower; thanks Temper Trap. Television got good again, and there were some nights of binge watching hidden in between the days; thanks Westworld.

The news was sad at times and we said goodbye to many people. Loss, loss, loss. We lost a lot this year. People, elections, love, our minds. The human condition keeps moving forward, so we keep moving forward. Disappointment lingered, happiness appeared. The paradox of the last 365 days. So I made space for more patience and change- all good things take time. I’ve got a lot of time, and a lot of good things.

Choices, I made so many of them. Some were wonderful, some were terrible, some were sad. They led me to new cities, new people and new depths of my heart and soul. People are enriching, the stories they tell and the hope they bring. I wove a lot more love into this tapestry of my life, it colored in what was once very dull, very average. I am lucky, so incredibly lucky.

Dreams became reality, fear became hope. Words were redefined this time. With their magic wielding- allowed me to get lost in other worlds, carved out the path to a new career. I wouldn’t know how to be, who to be, without them. Big love and many thanks.

Forgiveness. It’s that simple. Forgive yourself, and forgive others.

I drank a lot. Coffee, tea, water, GIN. Drunk words and sober thoughts all met in the middle somewhere. And this time, I cried a lot in happiness instead of pain. Stayed up far too late talking peoples ears off about the good ole days. I liked those nights, those memories, those people. I owe you guys one, drinks on me.

“Parting is such sweet sorrow.” I said goodbye to a number of things, which in turn brought me something beautiful in the end. Who I am learned to take the time to be selfish. It all came at a price- whether it was letting go of people or places, and the memories they held. The idea and the reality should be one in the same, if they are not, please always remember you can walk away. Especially if there is no more love, love yourself enough to walk away.

Twenty sixteen, you were like a 90’s hip hop song. Far too long, but still so good. You were a ‘Golden Era’ in a time when everything was a little dismal and we were all a little weary. This is how I want to remember you- reckless and wild. And so incredibly important. Thank you for your ways, you brought me more life. Thank you for the days, each one is the best one yet.

-m.j.t.-

 

 

All Good Love Does Not Burn Like the Sun

They never prepared me for someone like you. Every single past one, was a star in my world. But you, you were the sun. Drawing me into you, with your gravitational pull- something like your own kind of orbit. I lost myself in that, slowly careening towards your surface, plummeting into your atmosphere with all my might.

I caught fire like a projectile breaking in from outer space.

Alight, I could not be stopped. Alight, I was something that felt like yours.

But you are not a planet like me, you are not just another star in the sky like the others. You are warm, too warm, the brightest star I should say. The deadliest star of them all.

I am merely a planet, and like planets do, we revolve around you. So I plummeted into your bright orange hues-the coolest of all fires- but I wouldn’t know that until much later. I let you mar and dent the surface of my world. I let you light me ablaze. I let myself burn into you.

I would not know I was dying, I would not know I was burning- in pain, rather than lust- I would not know I was ash and dust until I reached the very blue core of you.

The hottest of all fires burns cool like the smooth ocean surfaces. This is where I laid myself to rest, wanting the ocean instead of the flame. But like all lovers do, I mistook the flames for oceans, and burned out like the stars.

-m.j.t.-

California Was for Lovers

How warm does the California sun feel on your skin?

Does the beer taste any sweeter on the West Coast?

Is the Padres crowd igniting all your senses?

Does the sun sink down behind you in a slow serene dip?

Because I can’t help but wonder, if the three time zones, and miles apart

brings me closer to the person I know,

Or farther from what we built under languid summer skies.

But all I know,

Is that there are days that separate you from me,

And miles can take the place,

And time can fill the space,

But you are the first thing that sits on my morning mind,

The last thought that leaves the pillows at night.

Missing you is just as fickle as the tide

and I have to ask-

Does the shore echo that longing in you too,

While you look at the Santa Monica Pier?

-m.j.t.-

(originally written 9-8-16)


it was 2:00 in the morning, and the world was strung together by trees and crashing waves and the view of the pier. you shared this with me, and I never told you, but it was my favorite moment shared with you.

I cherish your inspiration and all that happiness we created, most.

Late to the Party

We’re fourteen and sitting side by side through the days. Lunch, classes and locker life talks are all a blur. We ride the wave of being so young, so unsure of what we’re doing. We’re friends, and I like the way you laugh at my jokes, and the fact that everything is so serious. We aren’t tainted by the people we will both love. We are here and it is steady.

We’re seventeen and the world is bigger now. We make playlists in the cold of winter, but the solid strum of guitars make me prefer this state- a deference for the darkness keeps our bones warm and our hearts beat out to the way Foo Fighters intended.

We’re nineteen and some couple hundred miles away, still singing to the sounds of something sunny. I know we’re still thinking about clever titles for playlists. Thousands of songs fill my stations, but the angst of Paramore still reminds me of you. So we reach out, we hold on, we give it another round of songs that say everything we couldn’t dare.

We’re twenty one, and we know that the world is ours. Separately, we’ve done all we could. We listened, we learned, we kept on living. We sat side by side again, the steady hum of the road beneath us. We traveled through the night, and I was fourteen again. But it was only then, in the middle of a dark room, where the music stopped, and our voices filled the spaces- we poured out our hearts.

We’re aging, slowly against the tides of life. And maybe we’re not ready for it all. And maybe we’re waiting to hear just the right string of words. Just know, I’ll be listening with ears wide open. I got it though, I realized then; I don’t need confetti, I’ll take the party for two.

-M.J.T.-

Ask Me How to Remember You

They’ll ask you things, like “how did it feel?” And you’ll respond with “happy, exhilarated, over the moon” But it was more than that, it was the way that old things became new again, and sharing your life with someone meant that compromise was always a steady and easy “alright.” Because it didn’t matter so much if it was your way or theirs, but that you were together. Nothing was ever boring, and the silence never felt heavy or over bearing. It was more than just the phone calls and never ending stream of words that constantly poured out of you all hours of each day. It was the way that you called them your muse, drawing out colors and capturing sounds with only 26 letters- creating worlds that could go into infinity. And maybe that’s what it was-infinite- a steady flow into each day, feeling as if it would last forever. Tasting the warmth that this could be all the days, for the rest of your days. I hold onto the idea of long lasting moments with you, and every other person I will ever love. Because I am inexplicably drawn to the promising grasp in the arms of always, knowing that there is the possibility in my soul for so much more than here and now. My reality has shifted, and maybe it won’t always be so beautiful, so vibrant, so much. So, how did it feel? It felt like time warping around two souls, bending light, space and gravitational pulls to make sense of something that can’t be explained plainly. It was the back breaking weight of nothing and everything, molding bones into new forms, offering up our most sacred parts to another, lending a hand, piecing together a heart. It was more, because it changed me. And I hold onto that most.

-M.J.T.-

My Mirror, With Gratitude

The people we crave in the moment is a mirror of the kind of person we ourselves have become. We are all comprised of every person we have ever had the good fortune of meeting. Maybe it’s in the way that your laugh starts off slow and gradually builds into a full on cackle. Or when a song comes on and you have to turn it up a little, do a dance with your shoulders and round it out with a point of a finger and your hands in the air. We learn by watching, observing, absorbing our surroundings. Enough times, and it becomes a habit. You see, before people leave, they gift you with something- the friendship that precedes the falling out. It changes you for a moment, and then forever. It’s subtle. And people will come, and people will go. But it’s what they do in the middle between hello and goodbye that stirs up your life, your soul, your very being. It strips you down to the core, and questions your belief. It creates you. The people we relate to and surround ourselves with are all our mirrors. Good friendships will flatter all your good angles, your best sides, the parts of you that are easy to love. Bad friendships- that seem good at the time- introduce you to parts of yourself that you don’t always get to reveal, but those people will tear it out of you, coax it to the surface, let it dance with your soul for a little. And maybe you won’t see it at first, and maybe you’ll never be able to admit you were just like them. But for a little while you were. And whether it was a friendship, or relationship, or just someone to fill the time, they were there. And they stayed. And maybe you wish that they would have remained for another moment, or that you never met them at all. But what you don’t see in the loss, is that you stopped seeing yourself in them. They stopped reflecting the kinds of things you wanted, the beliefs changed, everything shifted. But take this as a gift as well, that you changed. And time will make sure of that if the people you love don’t. So when the mirror disappears, and its just a ghost of the person you once knew, walk away. Walk away with gratitude. Because someway, somehow, you changed each other. And isn’t that what life is all about? ¶

Get Busy Living | Here I Am

After a month of radio silence, sleepless nights, early mornings, and putting my life back into a schedule- I am here.

These past few weeks have allowed for both moments of reflection, and some goal setting as I ring in another year of life. The last 365 days were all filled with so much love, encouragement, support and growth. It’s true what they say- about growing older, and getting wiser. I don’t claim to know everything, but I’m beginning to understand the most important of all: me.

As you age, you handle loss better. For the most part, some things will never change. Once something is your favorite, it will always be your favorite. As the days rolled on, I started collecting my favorite things. Favorite place, favorite book, favorite happy song, favorite sad song, favorite moment so far, favorite goal, and favorite time of day. I realized it’s important to keep these things with you, to remind yourself of them often. They are things that are solidified, steady, and something you can always hold close- you’ll never lose these things.

That is another thing about age; the finality and permanent smudge that everything eventually wears. This all becomes tainted by time, and carried over in waves if we let it. So, sometimes the things we cherished and loved, we must let go. Not all things are here to stay. Not all love lasts forever. Not all moments are as pure and whole as others. And sometimes, they’re so good to us, we carry them on us like limbs and scars.

Time decorates you. Time completes you. Time allows for things to be new again, old again, young again, free again. Embrace it if it lets you, escape it if you must, but never turn your back on it- you’ll never get this back again.

The last and most complete lesson, is to write every day. Write about how you woke up, and rushed out the door. Pick apart those moments between the snooze button, and the last sip of coffee. You’ll start to realize that waking up to a quiet house, is the sound that you like best. That the smell of bread as it begins to toast, is a comfort of its own. Turning on the computer, and the slow ping of emails and updates; reminding you that life is calling. There is a laziness to every morning, that even fills the most chaotic and rushed. Let it in, let it in.

So as I sit here, and age a little more between the words. I welcome you back into my life. I welcome some more reading, some more writing, and a little extra love.

Cheers to another year.¶

 

Get Busy Living | In this for the in between

Sometimes I feel like I live my life in extremes. I’m a little too happy. Sometimes a little too sad. I give too much. I never take enough. I am forgetful that sometimes I’ve got to be here for the in between.

Between all the great days, and the days we can hardly make our way out of the house- let alone our bed- we live the normal days. The ones where another pot of coffee has been made- and it’s just right. The ones where we forget that we filled the tank of gas over the weekend, so you make it to work on time without a hitch. Especially the ones where we make it through the end of the day, so spent on flitting from place to place that we forgo the shower, and just hop straight into bed.

It was another day where you lived. You took all the time you had, and just used it all up. It’s another day where small, tiny, commonplace miracles happen.

I say this because, when you stop complaining about all the long days, the over burnt coffee, the empty tanks of gas, missed meetings, and the unwashed sheets. There were days where all these things fell into place, and you took them for granted.

So, live for the extremes. Live for the in between. Live for it all. It’s another day that has come and gone. Spend it all, spend it well.¶

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