Somebody.

Two thousand and eleven gifted me with sleepier eyes, sadder lips and the promise of a new beginning. I felt artistic, unsure. The days seemed no different from the many before and tomorrow seemed so distant. But it’s already April, we’re a quarter of the way through the year. Where does the time go?

It’s strange how I want to write about this, because in a way I don’t. A part of me is saying – you’re actually pathetic. But the truth is… I am, right? I’m just sitting in a lecture with five hundred or so other people and my heart is just racing. Pathetic, isn’t it. I mean, after all it’s just some random girl. But there was something about her that made her seem so different to everything else. It was weird because never before in my life have I been attracted to someone without even knowing their name. After all, she was just a little crush from last year, maybe. It was sort of an “oh-look-over-there-it’s-so-and-so” thing. But somehow in a matter of seconds this developed.

The lecture goes on (as it does) for fifty or so minutes in silence. No eye contact, no nothing, none of the scenarios I had in my head played out. And afterwards I was just like. Damn. What if I never talked to her… what if at the end of the semester I never saw her again. Because I knew I would never forgive myself if that happened.

Something like two weeks went by and there was still nothing. I snuck the odd look out the corner of my eye at her sometimes – just to see who she was with, what she was wearing; that sort of thing. I hope that isn’t freaky. Whatever.

Then the day came when she was sitting alone. I hesitated so badly. I think I tripped a little as I started to walk away. But an abrupt “are you going to take a chance or not?” forced me to take a seat next to her. And I remember it felt so amazing. I remember asking here where she was from, what papers she was taking this semester, about her family and all that jazz. She seemed great, perfect perhaps. She had an open mind, a sweet smile and her laugh, wow. Funny thing is that I found out all this stuff about her but I never got her name.

But that night I was cruelly reminded about a lesson I’ve been taught and forgotten many times – the more steps you take, the harder you will fall. And I think I fell at least six stories that night. I think the reason it hit me so hard is that… I had this expectation that it was going to be great and we’d talk more and get to know each other and all that stuff. I had been building up this false image in my head. It was all I had to hold on to. Expectations, I hate them yet I have them. Expectations and comparisons are just abstract, but I hate them so fucking much. They cause nothing but pain. Just. Fuck.

The thing about expectations it that you can try to overlook them but you can never deny that they are there. The expectations placed upon me and the expectations I place upon myself hurt me because when they are not met I feel like I have failed myself. I don’t care how people view me. I think what I need to understand is that I can’t change the path of others, but I may change the path I wish to take. Something like finding your significant other should be simple. Because that’s what love is – simple; we (or maybe I) overcomplicate it in our (my) mind(s). I need to learn to let go when I’m holding on, and hold on when I need to let go. You can’t love someone just by the words you say or the things you do. If you have ever hurt yourself for one you love, only then may you know what love is.

Wow, okay.

And/Forever.

January the twenty-seventh gifted me with Emily. She had bright blue-green eyes line with an untidy, caliginous black and wavy auburn hair that forever reached her shoulders. Every Saturday she would wait for me with a bouquet of daisies she picked herself and a box of heart-shaped chocolates. She told me to give them to the old lady that lived next door so that she wouldn't feel so alone. Emily always wore the same lacerated shirt - the one with the missing buttons, neatly ripped jeans and worn-out sneakers. They are comfortable, she would say. At least I'd never lose you in a crowd, I would always reply. And she would tenderly kiss me on the cheek. Every time.

February the twenty-eighth sat me next to Emily at our local cafe. Every Sunday we would share a stack of pancakes at our favourite table where we could come together in a strawberry and maple syrup kiss. Emily, with her snowy white top and caliginous jeans hid only a rainbow of colours beneath. Emily, who smiled so delicately was real. I decided this cafe would be my favourite place in the world. I decided I would always miss Emily when she wasn't around. Always.

March the twenty-second proved my thoughts about Emily being perfect. As we were taking the long way home we found a grey kitten with matted fur and bent whiskers. Emily picked him up and wrapped him in her own blue sweater - the one with the holes in the sleeves she made with her thumbs - and named him Lucky. As we continued walking she swore she would always love and that should would always take care of him; no matter what happened. She kissed the top of the kitten's head and whispered softly; the world is a big place and sometimes you'll get lost, but love is bigger and that's all that will ever matter. I asked her if she had enough to raise a kitten. She told me all she needed was her heart.

May the twelfth brought Emily and I to an opening in the woods where every star in the sky was visible. She awed at how beautiful the sky was and we named the constellation ourselves. Emily, slightly shivering in my arms held my hand with the biggest grin and asked me if I wanted to know why the sky was so amazing. I told her I did. She went on to tell me about how someone on the other side of the world would be looking at the same exact sky that we were. I decided this would be my new favourite spot in the world. I remembered what Emily said about the world being a bigger place and how sometimes we might get lost, but love is bigger and that is all that matters. I remembered the moment Emily's eyes fluttered shut as we fell asleep watching the many swirling galaxies beneath the many evergreen trees.

June the fifteenth found me curled and trembling beside Emily's naked body as we wove under her bedsheets. The way she looked at me with her eyes lined in black and flushed cheeks was immaculate. She slipped her fingers into my hair as she breathed my name. She was so delicate I was afraid I might break her breath. When she ceased she retrieved a box of chocolates from beneath her bed. She asked me if I would be hers forever. I told her I was hers the day we met.

July the third brought me a blue-skied morning, birds gently singing on the tin roof and Emily gently rasping at my door with a basket of strawberries and news I wish I had never heard. She told me the strawberries were the sweetest fruit she had ever tasted. Lucky the kitten was gently purring between Emily's feet when she told me she had been sick since February. I clenched my hands into fists but she easily unwrapped them and placed her fingers between mine. She was so strong. I looked into her eyes, now lined in red, and asked if she was going to be okay. I secretly prayed she would say yes. She said maybe.

August the eighth reassured me that a stack of pancakes could brighten my day no matter what. My stomach was content and Emily's fingers were locked between mine as maple syrup was trapped at the corners of her cherry red lips; I kissed them away from her icy cold skin. Emily, with her trembling hands and skinny wrists was still stunning. Emily, with her stitches and doctors on speed-dial was mine. I decided Emily's laugh would be the prettiest sound in the world. I decided I needed Emily and loved her with all my heart.

September the sixteenth reminded me of how much it hurts when you want to cry but you just. You just can't. Snow had fallen slowly throughout the week, forming a blanket on top of everything that existed. The wind that blew hurt my teeth. But then they came; tears rolled down my cheeks one after another and froze as they fell onto the pavement. My chest was heavy, I felt nauseated and I was terrified. I could hardly breathe. Three months is a long time she said. I asked her what I would do if something did happen. She told me the world was a big place and sometimes I might get lost, but love is bigger and that's all that matters. You'll always have my heart she said. I started praying for Emily every night.

December the tenth brought joy as Emily's eyes widened as she opened her birthday present. She told me it was beautiful and I leaned over to kiss her forehead. It was a photograph I had taken in the woods of millions of glittering stars against the black silhouette of the sky. I helped her place the frame on her bedside table so that it faced her and held her hand until a nurse came and told me I had to leave. That was the hardest part of my day - leaving Emily alone at night. I remembered to stop by her house to feed Lucky the kitten and as I stared into her empty room I was reminded of the first time she told me she loved me and her sweet vanilla lip balm.

December the twenty-seventh prompted me to visit Emily's fourteen-day-old grave. I replayed every memory of her I had in my head; her bright blue-green eyes, her wavy auburn hair that forever reached her shoulders. How she wore the same shirt - the one with the missing buttons, neatly ripped jeans and worn-out sneakers. And how her cheeks flushed when we wove under her bedsheets. Her epitaph was amazing; a heart-shaped stone with simple carved letters. I would visit her grave as often as I could. Every time I would read the words upon her grave one by one - life is short, but love is eternal.

And I knew she was right.

Fawn/Fair.

I think back to the reason that I started blogging; now that I have kind of stopped. I'm starting again though, because I remembered why I started writing in the first place. Because I had a lot on my mind and it was January. I don't think the month had anything to do with it though. So I wrote. And then I stopped.

And now two months. It's winter. And the season does have something to do with it. Something - I don't know what though. Some things I'll never know and I had to let them go. But. I can't pretend that I can't see this. Because I do. And with these eyes.

Now I think I'm taking this far. It's not your fault. It's purely yours. Oh I just figured it out. I'm writing again because of a fault. Damn. I can't say I'm sad. I'm just being ridiculous. I live my life. I get up in the morning. I leave the house. And I walk fifteen minutes down the road to catch a train into town.

And it's great. Because I always sleep in an extra five minutes or so in the morning. And that's great because I miss the express to town. But that's cool. And the train ride is always amazing. The seat don't all face the same way. That has nothing to do with it. By the train reaches the stop where I get on it's usually full - in the sense that each double-seat has at least one person in it.

And it's great. I'm not very picky about who I sit next to. I always get on the front carriage though because you avoid the riot when you get off in town. And the story begins. One day, somehow, I managed to start a conversation with the person next to me. And that's where the story finishes.

But that day. Was rainy. And a Thursday. And that's where the detail starts. Because I feel over-private about this matter although there is no reason too. But it was amazing. I was bored of listening so I decided to occupy myself by looking at stuff around the room. The smell of formaldehyde was really getting to me. Weird to say; but I kind of liked it. Kind of like petrol. But yeah. But when I turned my head there was just this specific something.

Actually. Amazing.

"I climb, I slip, I fall. Reaching for your hands but I lay here all alone; sweating all your blood. If I could find out how to make you listen now. 'Cause I'm starving for you here with my undying love and I. I will."

Piece/Quiet.

A few weeks ago I bought a healing crystal off the internet. And I admit, ever since I got it in the mail I have been wearing it like I have had it my whole life. I'm not sure what it is but ever since I have started wearing this crystal I have felt different. Being the curiously person I am, I consulted the catalogue at the local library and found a book - Wicca.

And from what I read, Wicca is kind of like witchcraft. To be precise, it is witchcraft. Needless to say, the book grew on me like a vine (in a good way) and to such an extent I am going to blog about it xD.

To start, the whole stereotypical thing about witchcraft is far from right. Of course, we all see the stereotype as something dark and evil; the whole casting spells and curses and hexing people. And this is true to an extent. Like a lot of things in the big bad world Wicca has been divided into Black and White. Black Wicca is similar to what I described above and White Wicca is the art of healing through spells and enchantments and whatnot.

As you can see I'm not very good with the whole Wicca thing yet and the book I read helped to develop a foundation for my understanding of what was classified as philosophy under the Dewey System. So far I have learned how rituals are performed, who does them and their effect. And there are oh so many.

However, back-tracking up a few paragraphs the reason I got this book was because I wanted to read about crystals and their characteristics. I knew my crystal was quartz and it turns out that quartz is a crystal that every crystal owner should have. The crystal or point pendent is cut precisely and at the end of the crystal all the sides come together at a point. This represents the harmony (I couldn't think of a better word) of the elements - earth, water, fire, wind and spirit.

And from this it has been suggested that a person wearing it will be presented with emotional stability and it may be used to cleanse an are where Wicca is performed. Incredible; I thought. So I kept reading.

And that is pretty much what I am up to.

And yeah, I'm working on a story at the moment about a girl who moves from New Zealand the to a country in the Northern Hemisphere - maybe The States or Canada by herself. The intro is below.

A tint of blue of a polished shade of grey rushed in my ear and out the other. The ground shook a little and a stream of crisp, golden air flooded my senses, causing my hair to flutter unnaturally in one direction.

I looked up at the giant clock on the platform; quarter to seven. Must have been the non-stop service that goes from Harrison Bay to out of town. It's mid-winter at the moment, there is only a matter of time before the snow starts to fall. I won't be able to leave the house because all of the doors and windows would have super-glued shut and the only source of heat would be that of the small fireplace in the living room.

Everything still seems so foreign. Back at home we didn't have subway stations and I had never seen snow before. The thought was frightening. If I were home it would be Summer; there would be a barbecue, birds chattering away in the large palm tree next door as the sun went down, family, friends. But here. Nothing.

Everyone was busy; all the time. No one on the streets would wave or say hi. If you didn't walk fast enough you would get bumped into and the back of your shoes would get stepped on.

Six fifty eight. Two more minutes.

[And yes I know, it doesn't really flow or anything at the moment because I was speed-writing it on paper and I haven't had the chance to edit it or anything.]

Save/Me.

I know you don't think that I am trying. I know you’re wearing thin down to the core. But. It’s just so cold in the mornings. The layers of clothing and the dark denim jeans were only a desperate attempt to keep me warm. And though they did, inside I felt like the snow falling gently outside these walls. I was confined, chained to thoughts. My eyes felt heavy as they squinted at the bright light of my cellphone. Quarter to six.

Tell me again, why am I awake? Why must I do this without meaning; without reason. I closed my eyes again. I might as well be dead. As I turned on the brightest and second brightest light in the bathroom the sudden explosion brought immediate pain to my eyes. My hands clutched at my head. I felt dizzy, confused, weak.

There was no cure.

I turned on the radio just before I leaped into the shower. That song I never liked. Perhaps the next song would be better. Nope. I hated that song because it was written for you. The steam started to gather and made it hard to breathe. I stood motionless. After dressing I forced myself to stop at the full length mirror. I didn't even care. You can never see what you look like. What you see in a mirror is just a reflection. What you see in a photograph is just colours that managed to arrange itself on glossy paper.

And you could never see yourself through someone elses eyes. I wouldn't want to anyway. The double-takes followed by muttering followed by nods and more muttering. What could they be saying? Oh, it's just one of them. Just a freak. Just a nobody.

I walk into a big white room and sit down on a plastic seat. I dared not to look up although the voice in my head was impatiently whispering - look up, look up; you'll never be able to. The feeling of hopelessness anchors my heart and sinks my soul into an ocean.

I was terrified. I knew I couldn't swim.

Fix your clothes and your hair, I told myself. So that nobody could see the sad truth of this lonely face in the crowd. Then it happened. The moment I would never forget for the rest of my life. Everything I could hope for. The moment that changed my life.

The moment I saw you.

Fictional/December.

Two stories I worked into one.

An absolutely perfect moment in mid-December. Black and blue hair covered both her eyes. Her snowy white top and caliginous jeans hid only a rainbow of colours beneath. Every step she made was hurried yet delicate.

Then she stopped; leaned forward and ran her fingers through the prickly grass. A dandelion. She breathed in deep.

She breathed. She was real.

A cascade of snow in the middle of summer.

I stood fixed on the pavement; looking down at my shoes. They were a faded shade of red, laced with white over and over again; until they stopped at what seemed like a perfect bow just beneath my ankles.

If only.

I looked up and saw her seated in the long grass. Her arms out behind her with her left leg over her right. The sun low in the sky. As I came closer she gestured me to sit down beside her.

'Can I see them now?' she asked quietly. 'Please?'

She lifted the camera from around my neck. She was so close. Her eyes not visible; her peppermint breath. No. Spearmint.

'Wow,' she exclaimed. 'These aren't bad.'

I looked at her.

'Actually, they're beautiful.'

'Not beautiful because I took them,' I paused. 'Beautiful because of what's in them.'

She smiled. Her braces gleamed in the sunlight. I raised my hand and used my fingers to gently brush the hair out of her eyes.

Eyes so violet. Eyes so green.

'Tomorrow?'

I smiled and closed my eyes.

I was lying on the freshly mown grass. The sun was warm once again and the wind whispered to me as it skimmed across my skin. The feeling was amazing. I didn't want anyone to take it away.

Shoes gripped at the gravel, sounding a definite crunch. I tried hard not to smile as the sound ceased. She was finally here. Whatever happened, I told myself, I would not open my eyes.

I felt fingers fill the gaps between mine. As I held on tight I felt something I had never before – reassurance. My heartbeat grew fast as her hair brushed across my face. The sweet scent of what seemed like strawberries and candyfloss.

She ran her fingers up my arm. I grasped them and smiled.

'Stop it,' I whispered. 'It tickles.'

She came closer. I braced myself. Her delicate lips touched mine. I felt her breathe on my neck. She knew this was my kryptonite.

I opened my eyes.

She smiled like always, exposing her gleaming braces as always. Her eyes lined in black; so green, so emotionless.

And tear fell onto my cheek.

'I love y-' she started.

Then her whole body shook violently as her eyes closed.

And she fell silently.

Summer. Summer.

Another day. On the way to uni on the train.

I woke up this morning without the sun and her warmth. It was quite odd because I woke up freezing. The sky was trying to hold on to the blue. It's been a tiring week. I have had to wake up at six or earlier everyday to go into university. Today was different though.

I was looking forward to this walk because the sky was grey which meant it wouldn't be too hot. So right, the bare essentials - top, jeans, shoes. Going off my street droplets started falling from the sky and before I could turn around it was full-on raining.

Summer summer.

It really is autumn now. I know because it's that much harder to get out the bed in the morning. The sky is a swirl of delicate blue with blotches of grey. And it just seems so depressing. What they say isn't true. Love at first sight again? I wish. It's just how it goes and I will never know. The idea should be in order to forget someone first you must find someone else. Someone brighter. As rough as that may sound it's reality. I try to make sure that every day is different from the day before it, I try to avoid routine, I try. But. It's just the same old thing. Just tracing my fingers around that circle over and over and over.

The idea makes me sick.