heartbreak, life lesson, love, munich 2012, november 2012, write it out, writing from the heart

She forgot to leave room.

{Munich.November 2012}|

Once upon a time I was walking down one of my favorite streets in Munich when I felt an uncertain pang in my heart.

It wasn’t homesickness. No, that pang I am very familiar with. It wasn’t because I was nervous, or even because I saw a cute puppy and wanted to snuggle it for years. This was one I had never noticed before.

So I found the nearest (free) wifi signal and called him.

He didn’t answer. I’ve always answered his calls. My calls? Well they are rarely answered.

I was alone. Utterly, and completely alone. Not because I didn’t have friends that cared about me somewhere in the world, I do. And my family, they are always in my heart. But this time, I was lonely, for me.

The pang would not have ceased had he answered–no, this pang had possibly nothing to do with him at all.

That sounds incredibly odd. Bordering on obnoxious really.

But it was true. I didn’t even have myself to turn to.

You see, a few months ago I met someone here. I met someone and I fell hard (after much hesitation, mind you). But of course, he had me convinced, and I was trusting, and I dove in head first. I gave every ounce of my energy to not only the “relationship,” but to him. I have a history of doing this. And it’s not like I’m trying to say how “selfless” I was or how “caring” I am. This is not what I mean at all.

It didn’t work out. Well, things have taken a turn, and by that I mean I keep caring. Here I am standing, caring, thinking, and hoping. And him–well, I’m not really sure what he is up to–he suddenly doesn’t have the time to talk or write. (Funny how when he wrote me–even at my most stressed–I took the time to answer.)

Maybe in time. Or maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. Maybe it was yet another step closer to the real thing; merely another lesson learned about relationships.

While I am caring and give all my heart to all relationships–friends and loves alike–I sometimes forget about myself. So often in relationships I have thought, Well, whatever he wants to do, I’ll work my life out around that. I can always change my plans.

That is bonkers.

That is absurd and I (we) need to give myself (ourselves) some flippin’ credit.

We deserve to be thought of, cared for, and loved for our dreams and hopes, too.

I’m trying to treat myself a little bit better. And, as soon as I do, I’m certain the loves I encounter will treat me kinder, as well.

It’s sad that this is something I’m really struggling to do; being kind to myself, learning to love myself.

It’s even sadder that it is much harder said than done.

But here I am, trying every single day.

p.s. this is beautiful:

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quote of the week, recommended reading

{Quote of the Week.}

“Those who are truly enlightened, those whose souls are illuminated by love, have been able to overcome all of the inhibitions and preconceptions of their era. They have been able to sing, to laugh, and to pray out loud; they have danced and shared what Saint Paul called ‘the madness of saintliness’. They have been joyful – because those who love conquer the world and have no fear of loss. True love is an act of total surrender.”-Paulo Coelho, By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept

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november 2012, thankful, thanksgiving 2012

Every little bit of it.


For the highs and the lows. The days of being completely on my own. Days of pure joy. For those who have broken my heart. For those who have loved me more than I ever have myself. Those who have tricked me into loving them by wearing a disguise. The scary moments alone far, far away. The moments of utter embarrassment. The laughter-filled nights. The family I miss (but am always close to in my heart). The friends who’ve moved on and the friends who’ve stayed close. The tears of happiness. The tears of sorrow. And the tears ‘just because’. For confusion. For clarity. And everything in between.

These are the things that bring me even closer to love. These are the things that are meant to happen.

These are the things for which I give my thanks; the things that make me love my blessed life. 
Every little bit of it.

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fall 2012, memories, munich 2012, oktoberfest, september 2012, southern germany

The time I went to Oktoberfest in September, but didn’t post about it until November.

(See! Photos! Finally! I’m terrible with any camera, friends. Painfully, awkwardly, awful with one. I’m trying to work on it!)

I went to Oktoberfest with a few friends I have stolen  adopted from my dear friends Katherine and Christian. It was everything I had hoped for and more… and then some more! But honestly, the memories will last forever. Because Oktoberfest is a magical thing. ; )

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heard it loved it, music, taylor swift

"It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well."

I gave in and bought the new Taylor Swift album a few weeks ago when I bought my new computer. I decided it was fate. After all, how many tiny Bavarian village electronic stores carry the newest T.Swift album a day after it comes out? Not very many. It was clearly meant to be. And I’m so glad that I did, because I may be eating cheap cheese and packages of bread for a while, but at least my ears are happy and my heart is comforted. 
My favorite songs, you ask?

We learn to live with the pain//Mosaic broken hearts

I can’t decide if it’s a choice//Getting swept away//I hear the sound of my own voice//Asking you to stay

I just like hangin’ out with you, all the time.//All those times that you didn’t leave;//It’s been occurring to me I’d like to hang out with you, for my whole life.

Spinning like a girl in a brand new dress,//We had this big wide city all to ourselves.//We blocked the noise//with the sound of ‘I need you’,//And for the first time I had something to lose,

And they tell you that you’re lucky.//But you’re so confused,//Cause you don’t feel pretty, you just feel used.

He said, “Look at you, worrying so much about things you can’t change//You’ll spend your whole life singing the blues if you keep thinking that way”//He was trying to skip rocks on the ocean, saying to me,//”Don’t you see the starlight, starlight?//Don’t you dream impossible things?”

And for the first time, what’s past is past

(Ok, so really pretty much the entire album.)
Say what you will about her, but the girl has a way with words and music. Goodness.
Also, I love this.
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growing up, hope, my words, post-degree, words from my heart, write it out, your twenties

Trying to find your footing.

{via: flickr.}

The feeling you get in your stomach before stepping onto an escalator or into a revolving door sets up permanent residence during your twenties. You have to keep with the flow. You don’t want to be the one that misses the first stair–smacks right into the door. Every step before you is carefully calculated, dreaded.

To you at least. Everyone else seems to have it mastered; the art of stepping in, stepping up. You don’t. Before you even try your mind is filled with terrifying scenarios you’re convinced are about to come true. If only you could take the damn elevator, skip it all, including this dumb metaphor.

The hot mess of a metaphor I just tried to convey is my attempt at expressing how it feels to be among peers that are getting real jobs, marrying their loves, creating babies. They seemingly took off their cap and gowns after graduation and stepped right into the next phase of their lives. I applaud that. I envy that. I definitely didn’t do that.

Instead, I feel like I’m merely an older version of the person I was 6 months ago when I received my degree. Nothing else has changed. Well, I moved across the world again. But sometimes I wonder if I maybe I moved again because it bought me more time to figure out what to do post-university. It bought me time, but it didn’t slow down anyone else’s clocks.

Rather, I am a million miles away, reading updates about how so-and-so just got a raise and your dog’s cousin’s best friend just got married to her best friend.

I’m trying to convince myself it’s ok to take a differenet route, a different staircase. But it’s hard to keep myself convinced daily.

So instead, I’m just trying to convince myself that it’s ok to feel scared, anxious–eager even. Some days all that matters is that you feel anything at all.

Even if you feel like writing a terrible, terrible metaphor for a blog post.

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