april showers...

i told jorge that i was going to sing karaoke last night. i ran through a list of my typical favorites to sing at karaoke.
i got a great text message from him just before midnight-

"time after time..."

i definitely wish someone had been there to sing Shania Twain and Dashboard Confessional with me.
that's a confession in itself.

what if i fail as a mother
because i do not know how to sew?
what if i fail as a mother
because my hands are not warm to the touch?
what if i fail as a mother
because i do not know how to braid hair?
what if i fail as a mother
because i do not know the rules of soccer?
what if i fail as a mother
because i am terrible at arithmetic?

what if i fail as a mother
because i'd love my children too much?

what if i succeed as a mother
because i'd love my children too much?

wind in my hair
harley ride at lunch time

the sun sure makes a mark on that leather jacket

i realized that i think i write about myself, but i really don't.
i'm not honest to myself.
i need to write about jealousy, about insecurity. about why i feel the way i feel. about the past and its ugly stains, the kind that you wash again and again and they don't come out.

i need to write about being a twin, and being compared. about needing to be more than, or better than.

competitiveness lies in me not as a tool but as a weakness, where i avoid that which i feel competitive with.

“Hover between hope and fear.”

- Virgil

this is a tenacious morning, sticky with wetness like the words that slid out of their mouths last night
five point five is what they noted in their grandfather clocks and iPhone calendars
but numbers don't matter in this life,
not by a long shot
togetherness is not togetherness until you are apart, and the ocean of what it meant to be close hits you. you're soaked and you're awake now, awake after all of the tendrils of tenderness have wilted away, and you're harsh now. the colors have changed now, grey, slate grey.

the blue awaits.

"I dream. Sometimes I think that's the only right thing to do."
— Haruki Murakami

she chased the light as it zig zagged across cheeks and police cars

the nights do not intimidate her,
it is your unhappiness that makes her recoil

I have a friend who made a joke once about the difference between men and women. I think he might have seen this in a movie once.

If a woman and a man are sitting on a couch, and the woman says "I'm thirsty," the man will get up and get her a class of water.

The woman might look confused and asked, "Why did you get me a glass of water?"
The man might say, "Um... because you said you were thirsty."
The woman might respond, "But honey, I didn't want you to get me a glass of water. I just wanted you to tell me that you, too, have known what it's like to thirst."


Men want to solve problems.
And that's great.
Women sometimes just need validation, or to voice a feeling they have and receive an acknowledgment.

Coming from different planets, it doesn't work all the time. It can't.

But you're still the yin to my yang, and my vulnerability is my own. I shouldn't rely on you to erase it.