Thursday [The Way Things Go...]

it's come to my attention, 2010, 

that it is almost your time to be over.

i'm surprised at that, and honestly,

just a little sad.

you have been good to me.

truly.

more so than i could have ever hoped for.

there are no doubt a hundred thousand and one things i could thank you for:

for art school, and awesome grades.

for new friends and old friends and late night adventures.

for cute boys and cute outfits.

for somehow surviving a year without a job, even though i never thought i'd manage that.

for a newly decorated room, and an almost entirely new wardrobe.

for creativity and creating and creations.

but honestly, most importantly,

2010,

if there's anything i take away from you at all,

the most important thing in the world would be this:

thank you for the courage to finally believe in myself,

for the reassurance that the things i love and the things i believe in

are the things that work in my life,

the things i was made to do.

for the knowledge that i am capable of succeeding in anything i put my mind to,

and above all else,

thank you,

for teaching me to love myself again.

it was never going to be an easy task,

and it may have taken me a hellishly long time to get there,

but i know i couldn't have done it without you.

i'll miss you. 

you were wonderful.

and i'm looking forward to what you're next of kin has in store.

and your ghost will have to leave...

Wednesday [The Past, The Present...]

I found this:

"I've wanted words for this for so long, but they've never come when I was prepared, and the moment I was, they'd leave again.

And now? Someone else is writing the story I always wanted to.

If this sounds cryptic, that's because it is.

There's so many how's and why's and when's and so many things yet to be explained/discovered/understood.

The only thing I do not question, because it is written on my heart, and doubting it would be like doubting my own existence.

The only thing I do not question is that this is what I am here for. That giving my life to others is where my story begins and where my story ends.

I feel, as I read someone else's words, completely inspired and yet somewhat... hopeless?

The truth is, I do not know where to start in living out my story.

I do not know what word comes first.

There, I've said it, and it's out.

I guess really, it's a matter of beginning with the beginning, and since my beginning is to learn all I can, that's where I'll start.

In reality, it's where I should have started two years ago, 

but I didn't know all of this then.

I wish I did.

I wish someone had told me the story of a girl who was born to help people and would never feel accomplished, or even truly happy,

until she did.

I wish someone had warned me that once you learn what it is that has been placed in your heart,

the calling becomes stronger than anything imaginable.

I wish someone had told me that it was possible.

That it is possible to live it out without completely sacrificing everything that is necessary to you,

because once you start feeding your calling, the necessities take care of themselves.

I'm going to start my story now:

My name is Dominika. I am 19. I am engaged. I am at university studying psychology and counselling.

More than anything in life, I just want to help, whoever needs it.

And above and before all else, I believe this is the one and only thing that will make me happy, because it's the one and only thing God has carved into my heart.

The rest is optional."

It's four years later.

Oh, how things change.

Sometimes, I am so terribly sad for that girl. 

So terribly sad about the fact that all the things she thought were real and good and true turned out to be

all the things that weren't right for her.

And yet, I'm glad that she had a chance to exist. 

To be the person she was so that she could become the person she is.

I am none of those things anymore.

My name is Dominika. I am 23. I am single. I am at university studying fine arts and arts.

More than anything in life, I just want to create, however that happens.

And above and before all else, I know, without a doubt that this is the one and only thing that will make me happy. 

Because it's the one and only thing that makes me happy.

The rest is optional.

all things go, all things go...

Tuesday [The Thing That Is...]

so there's this thing...

i mean.....

it goes like this....

well, no.

once upon a time...

who am i kidding, those never work out.

is it strange that sometimes i spend days

in a daze

in a daydream

in a...

i'm not sure how this works anymore.

be patient with me, won't you?

smile.

stop.

stutter.

smile.

if i get to 2689 blinks, it'll work out.

oh.

there's no bargaining here.

hello springtime.

sunshine, blossoms, birds, butterflies

in the air, or

in my stomach.

it's been too long since the flowers grew.

there should be more moments like this.

let's grow old together

never growing old

at all.

ever.

all we can do is keep breathing...

Monday [The Complaint...]

dear boys of the world:

when will you understand that when a girl says no,

generally,

it means no.

not maybe, or yes if, or possibly, or one day.

that's not to say i don't admire your persistence.

it is, indeed, an admirable quality.

but you need to realise one thing:

the constant badgering and begging,

the displays of gentlemanliness and strength,

the promises and endless flirtations with hope,

are pointless

if she doesn't like you.

am i making myself clear?

in fact, 

if one might be so bold as to assume that this is the case for most girls,

if she doesn't like you,

and you do these things,

you may very well run the risk of losing her friendship altogether.

i guess it comes down to whether or not you think this is worth it.

i hope you can choose wisely.

is she right way up, or upside down...

Sunday [The Recurring Nightmare...]

why does my heart still race a little when i dream of you?

why does the thought of you coming back, 

even only in my subconscious,

make me a little bit melancholy,

a little bit lonely?

even though in reality,

i don't want you back,

i wouldn't ever want you back....

and yet...

i don't know if i'd say no if you were to suggest it.

i'm not sure if that's just because i want someone to fill that spot,

or if, 

deep down, 

i wish it had worked out.

this morning i dreamt that you told me you loved me.

even in my dream state i thought to ask you,

what happened to the girl you were marrying?

you told me not to worry about her,

but i knew, deep down, that you were still together.

what am i meant to do about you?

it's been three years since i saw you last.

my entire life is different,

wonderful, 

and going in all the directions i always wanted it to go.

you absolutely destroyed me,

and it's taken me this long to get back on my feet.

there are still things i struggle with, but i know,

those too shall pass.

the thing that shatters me most is that i know you don't care.

the likelihood of my name or face ever crossing your mind,

well, 

i'm sure it doesn't happen.

i guess i take comfort in the fact that the you i dream of sometimes,

isn't you.

he has brown eyes, where yours are blue,

a dimple that doesn't exist on your face,

and the best smile i've ever seen.

still, there are certain characteristics that are entirely you

and it is these,

more than anything else,

that sets my heart a racing.

but why?

i want to find someone worth loving again.

someday, you will, be loved...

Saturday [The Daydreamer...]

Sometimes, when I am babysitting, I pretend that the child is mine.

That there is a husband soon coming home to us,

and the clothes i iron are ours.

He woulld creep into our childs room and kiss them on the forehead as they sleep,

wrapped tight in dreams and love.

Come find me, by the fire place

[because i hate the cold and love,

like a cat, 

to curl up close to the warmth]

and he would sit, and sigh,

a release of all the tension built up during the day.

I would look at him and smile, 

a kiss lingering between us and then

i'd rub his back as he told me of his day.

A meal would be shared, simple, 

warming food, all prepared with love,

and eaten amidst laughter,

discussion, sharing and conspiring.

He'd reach for my hand across the table and tell me

he loves me,

and i'd smile,

safe in the knowledge that

should he never utter those words again in his life,

i'd know it anyway because it's in his eyes.

Later, we would curl up on the couch,

my head in his lap, and his fingers brushing out

imaginary knots in my hair.

The rain would drum its steady heart beat on the roof above and

we would stay

tucked up warm

safe in each other

safe in ourselves.

Sometimes, there would be arguments

disagreements

and days where he would come home to a cold dinner and an empty house.

But these moments, too

would pass,

and even in out most desperate, disastrous moments

I would always tell him that I love him,

before the blanket of sleep rendered all thoughts incoherent.

This kind of fantasy always gets sidetracked by one, sad, distraction.

This husband has no name, no face,

no shape to speak of.

I cannot tell you if his eyes are brown, or blue,

cannot tell you the colour of his hair,

or the sound of his voice.

I do not know his favourite food, the things that drive him and motivate him,

or the things that break his heart.

I only know that he is out there, somewhere.

That he will smile at me across the room

and ask me out for coffee

and that our lives will become so intertwined that we'll wonder how it is that we ever lived apart.

Dear husband:

I am waiting for you.

And in the meantime, I will work on making myself the best wife one could ask for.

Just for you.

Pour toujours.

maybe, one day, maybe, some day...

Friday [The Daffodils....]

in time of daffodils (who know

the goal of living is to grow)

forgetting why, remember how

in time of lilacs who proclaim

the aim of waking is to dream

remember so (forgetting seem)

in time of roses (who amaze

our now and here with paradise)

forgetting if, remember yes

in time of all sweet things beyond

whatever mind may comprehend

remember seek (forgetting find)

and in a mystery to be

(when time from time shall set us free)

forgetting me, remember me

it isn't late, but i am tired.

that makes me sad and yet,

my head is on overdrive.

as usual.

e.e. cummings fixes everything.

lover, come back...

Thursday [The Secret Garden..]

oh, hi.

i wish spring would hurry up.

words do not begin to describe how much i'm longing for warm sunny days.

and...

something?

someone?

a possibility

and a question without an answer.

i cannot give you one

at all.

it is cold and my heart is dwelling in warmer places.

not here,

no, no,

and not you.

[not that long ago, you told me to stop saying no.

i can't.

it is,

when you're around,

the only word on my lips 

and i,

made a promise that i would stop saying yes, when i meant no.]

i tried.

i swear, i did.

but my future is not this,

and no,

it is not you.

instead, it waits for the summer.

for twirly skirts and heels

[which you hate, and makes me wonder

how you can think that this will work]

for adventures and beach days and long drives with the windows down

picnics in the park and

sunshine.

oh

sweet

golden light.

come back soon please?

i was made for sunny days, and i was made, for you...

Wednesday [The Thing That Hurts Most...]

If I don't stand out like a star among the moons
If I am always late and he always backs away too soon
I walk the world with a skin so thin
I can wear no adequate protection
Everything comes crashing in.
If I'm too wide open for this place
But not enough for him to recognize my face

How will he find me
With no one's arms to gather me together?
How will he find me?
Only held by gravity, faded with uncertainty
No longer young and not that pretty
How will he ever find me?

It never seems to matter, the tears I cry.
There's a well inside of me that never runs dry
From being born I guess, and born in life until we die.
The music and the hope for love keep me alive
Still I wonder, how will he find me?

And what shall I do with a drunken heart
With goggle eyes and the troubling hunger
Reaching forward to trick mirror men
Leaning out and in again.
If love is a game how can it be creation?
And if I'm wasting my time
How will he find me? 

Tuesday [The Confession...]

Okay, so here's the thing:

I don't like girls.

I know this is a bit ridiculous, seeing as how I am one and all,

but its true.

I don't like the whole

I'm going to be so nice to you in person and then bitch about you behind your back thing

that seems to be so prevalent in the female sex.

I know,

guys do it too.

But it doesn't seem to be so pronounced, 

and guys aren't as good as disguising the fact that they don't like someone.

I think the reason I don't like that most is because I find myself doing it on occasion too

and yet,

it's apparently acceptable 

because I'm female.

What I don't understand is that we've spent so long breaking gender stereotypes.

Girls should be in the kitchen and never wear pants.

These things are harmless, really.

I love being in the kitchen.

I hate pants.

But when it comes to things that are truly harmful:

gossip, passive aggressive bullying, rumour spreading, 

bitching, back stabbing, name calling,

we don't seem to care.

Isn't it these gender stereotypes we ought to be looking at breaking?

Fixing? Getting rid of? Breaking through?

Really?

Wouldn't THAT benefit the world more?

i miss this face, i miss that place...