nope. that's a pigeon, harold.

sometimes i think i put too much faith in people.
i can lift someone up so high, they think the stars are touchable.
i can comfort and elighten. i can trust and give tender care.

when i was a young girl, i had a best friend.
her name was alexis and we rode the bus, together.
her brother, alexis and i would play together and took turns pushing each other on the swings.
as a loner, i had very few friends. this made alexis very special to me.
then, one day, as we were riding home on the bus, alexis held my arms behind my back while her brother repeatedly punched me in the stomach.

i never really told anyone about that.
i couldn't even be mad, i didn't know what i had done.
i racked my brain for hours, trying to understand what i did.

the next day, i went to school, and alexis was gone.
her and her brother moved, disappeared.
i never saw them, again.

.

this person that i've written about on this blog, this man ...
he is a good man. he is capable of loving. he is someone i love.
yet, once again, i am clenching my stomach, curled up in a ball, trying to understand why people do the things they do.

in the case of alexis, she was a young girl who intentionally hurt me - maybe to see what it felt like, maybe because she did not understand what friendship is and how willingly i gave it.
in the case of the man, he is old enough to know; but it was not intentional.
sometimes, our feelings, our weaknesses, our pains manifest themselves as arrows, launched at the hearts of those who care about us the most because we know they can survive anything.

i am a survivor of many things.
i have survived deaths and births, heartache, various illness, divorce, marriage, car accidents, stitches, bike accidents, my teenage years, love, so many things.
but when we survive, we do so because it is the only option. a man in the sea, alone, must swim to survive or float to die. yet, in this case, i don't have to survive, i can just choose to understand and let the current move me to shore.

.

i will spare the details, but say this: it is so hard to have faith.
to wake up every day and try to believe in something or someone. to know that each moment of our lives may be adding up to some great plan. to give, willingly, to a stranger. to understand, without question, because we must and can not explain the miracle of another human being's life.

my days fill themselves, but i decide whether or not to enjoy their taste.
some might call this "psycho babble bullshit", a chain of meaningless statements which allow old women with cats to feel better about themselves, food for therapists. ... and i might agree.

but i don't care.
i am my mother's daughter.
my therapist who loves to collect sea glass and listens to enya of a mother's daughter. and i thank God that i am.
because then maybe i would never know how to have faith.

today, i read the bible for the first time in a very long time.
i read about Job and his struggles and how God answers him, practically railing at Job to explain the universe to him. and Job is, of course, speechless. and God says, pray and you will be forgiven. understand that you are just a man, one small man, and that your only importance lies in what path i lead you towards.
and Job prays and is forgiven and is blessed with bounty.

i am upset with God, sometimes. but then i remember i am but one woman in this large universe. and that i need only to remind myself that there is a path for me and every person i meet. and then, i feel more content.

whatever you believe - i hope faith is a big part of it.
faith in love, faith in your passion, faith in people.

and to my harold, i have faith that he will be happy. and we can someday be friends. but for now, i must understand that my happiness comes first.

goodnight, all.