You're Amazing, Just The Way You Are

"Just because women in the early 90's decided that women needed to look like 12-year-old boys doesn't mean you need to let it influence you."

"No one ever said you needed to have big boobs. Well, they did, but fuck'em."

Even the kindest of men have a socially constructed idea of beauty. This isn't their fault, not entirely; If someone tells you that something is a certain way all your life, you aren't likely to forget it easily.

My beautiful boy is crass and sarcastic, and not always good at expressing his emotions, but he lacks the idea of "beauty" programmed in to so many of his peers. He may never say "You're beautiful"(maybe because he knows that I wouldn't believe him anyway), but he often reminds me that there's no need to worry about being skinny or endowed, because it doesn't matter.

Of course, it's not as simple as all that. Just like the men who've had the concept of beauty thrown at them, so do women. Like it or not, it takes more than a few sweet words to raise my self-esteem.

But hey, if he keeps talking, I'll keep listening.

Nothing Gold Can Stay

And weeks pass
And months pass
Seasons fly

Still you don't walk through the door
And in a haze
I count the silent days
'Til I hear you sing once more

It's my new, strange addiction. I'm living for that next moment I see him. Why? Why this hold on me?

I think it has very much to do with the separateness of it all; There's no depth, no worries, associated with him. There's only joyful memories. Never has he made me feel awful, or said an unkind word(about anyone at all).

It's very pure, and that's what leads to the happiness. I'm sure someday he'll find a way to bring himself to Earth in my eyes, but for now, he's higher than a mountain. He dances with the stars. To look up and find him brings me joy, and for now, that's enough.


(Have a listen to the song- Ramin Karimloo is the best Phantom ever: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=47dUc4iMAvQ)

Imaginary Friend

I wish I had an imaginary friend
To perch upon my shoulder
Right next to my ear, so that he could hear my deepest thoughts

Every time I thought I was a failure, he could remind me of my successes
Every time I feel ugly, he could list my attributes

He could remind me to be happy when I'm sad,
To smile anyway,
To write and laugh

I guess everyone could use one of those

Unstuck

Words can't express the joy that's settled into my bones.

After eight or so years after my last I-don't-know-this-director audition, I decided to get back on the horse and try out for Fuddy Meers at the college. I begged my Facebook friends for audition tips, and took the afternoon to get ready. There was a part of me that hoped to see my darlin' there, but it wasn't my main focus.

I sat waiting in the lobby, being one of the first to arrive. Every time the door opened, I would look up on instinct, with only a glimmer of hope. No matter how many times I looked up, I always felt the sting of disappointment. When he finally walked through the door, I lifted my eyes out of habit, before looking down without recognition.

Then a body came to stand in front of me. I looked up, running into gorgeous brown eyes. Those eyes were beautiful, and dangerous, and I knew them.

He smiled and hugged me so tightly it hurt just the littlest bit. He called me sweetheart(which, usually, I don't allow anyone to call me but my beautiful boy-but I decided to add an exception) and told me how good I looked. He said he was doing alright(and even though his friend took his life only a week ago, I somehow knew that it was the truth). He said he wasn't auditioning, just taking a walk. His focus was on me and only me. Finally, he turned to go(incurring the wrath of a few other girls that he'd neglected to speak to). In his joking way, he went back to the door to reenter and "get it right this time". When he walked by, I reached out and touched him- just a small laying-on of my hand against his back as he passed. The gesture felt right.

As he left the building, I watched him go, and it occurred to me that he hadn't been going through the building. No, he'd come to the building. He'd gone out of his way. He had come to see me.

He told me to text him any time, and to text him after auditions to make sure he had my number. He had hugged me and called me sweetheart. He swore to come see my apartment. I know he's not forever-he doesn't have the missing piece of my soul- but he is a phase that I'll pass through gladly.

And to add to this warm feeling, the audition was fantastic.

Stuck

I love my beautiful boy more than anyone or anything, but there's someone that has captured my attentions so fiercely that it's driving me insane. What is it about you, darlin', that has me wandering around this campus with the hopes of running in to you? Why does part of me just want to be around you?

It isn't a romantic sort of feeling(though I think kissing you would probably be sort of nice). I just want your friendship, your presence in my life.

I remember the time spent with you backstage. No one could get me in a picture, unless you were on the other side of the camera. You told me to smile, and I did. You tied me up in my hoodie, and it was funny. On my birthday, you found me a card and planned a party-my first ever. That card was one of the first things I hung on my new bedroom wall. You told me that life could be something entirely different from what I'd thought it would be, and believed that I could accomplish it.

I wish I could call you now, darlin'. When I heard that someone died this week, I thought of you first and I was so scared. And now I know that you're hurting, and we aren't close enough now for me to call you. But, I can wander around the campus, hoping that fate will cross our paths again. Maybe this time, we'll be going the same way.

Eulogy for a Stranger

Dear Aaron,

I don't know you, or your life. And I will be honest-when I heard it was you, and not my friend of a similar description, I felt relief before anything else.

I understand the feelings you must have had last night. You felt like you were going nowhere, you felt alone. You were on the ledge, and you thought no one would pull you back. You were wrong, honey. I know because I gathered with everyone else at noon in the square. I've never seen so large a crowd together in such a silence. There wasn't a single voice. Not a single voice.

I doubt you were religious. Even so, the prayer was lovely. I've noticed that in Chestertown, there seems to be an agreement between the religious establishments that in times of tragedy, faith leaders can speak for the entire religious community. The solidarity is nice. I don't know how much of Chestertown you ever got to see.

I guess I don't have much else to say. You'll be missed. I hope anyone who is having suicidal thoughts can see what's going on now and how people are feeling, and decide to talk to someone. I hope friends are holding tighter to each other, and the kids call their parents a little more often.

In time, your friends will become accustomed to your absence, though they'll still wonder where they were at 6pm last night. Some of them were just across the hall. They'll fall asleep without crying, be able to share stories of you without summoning a raincloud. They'll be ok, but they won't ever forget you.

With so much love,
Cass.

Forgiveness is the Attribute of the Strong

Imagine the scenario: To celebrate Labor Day, he wants to head to a bar, and she wants to take advantage of the college library. They have a plan- he texts her when he feels drunk enough, she'll pick him up, and they'll get dinner. But the bar isn't open, and he ends up at the one walking distance from their apartment. She forgets that the door is locked, and that she holds the key.

Fast forward about an hour and a half. She's in line at the store with dinner, and she gets a text. Oops! She answers that she's sorry, and on her way home. And when she gets there, she sees that he has kicked in the door.

What the fuck, man? To make a long story much shorter, he spent the remainder of the night being a jerkface. Rather than snap at him, I stayed silent and let him do his thing. He let me be, and fell asleep on the couch.

Of course, in the middle of the night he came back to our bed. I didn't snuggle, or really acknowledge him. I wasn't mad anymore- I'd fixed the door, handywoman that I am- but I wasn't ready to gloss over it, either.

So this morning, he comes to wake me up before he goes to work(ahh, now he remembers). He hugged me, and I was nice again, because I felt that was the closest to an apology as I was likely to get. But lo, during his lunch he texted me again:

"What I did was really stupid. I'm sorry."

Okay, sweetheart. All is forgiven. I'm proud of you for apologizing, even when you knew I'd let you off the hook without it. I love you. I'll see you when I get home.