she dreamed the same dream night after night~We are an orchestra of one, we are a majesty unveiling, we are newly born lovers, christening one another with mouths and hands and seeking tongues. We are everything and nothing~ Night is falling. night is falling. and I am drowning. in your arms. I am safe again. I am safe again. You surface me, and cling to me, night is falling and I am in my place again. above you, beneath you, wherever it pleases you so... oh my love, I am home again. My heart has been reborn again. the night is falling. and so am I . Falling for you ( into you, above you, through you). night is falling. night is falling. and so am i. so am i. always for you. for you.

blustarswendy3

~random vintage wendchymes~

prayerful of dreams - 2008-06-28
preschool princess - 2008-06-16
life with my sweetheart - 2008-04-29
the fast approach of four - 2008-04-12
lighting up my own life - 2008-03-08

2002-01-21 - 1:07 p.m.

This is you skidding into the unavoidable path of a big rig truck on a snowy white road. This is your life flashing before your eyes, this is your ~life~ passing you by. This is you, scotch taped behind glass, watching, helplessly.

This is you, when you were born, bursting into the world, cherubic and cheerful. This is you, blonde and smiling, the twinkle of everyone's eye's. This is you being told over and over, how beautiful you are, and how smart and special you are. This is you, believing it. This is you, wanting to be all of those things, this is you wanting to deserve the love that is lavished upon you. This is you, becoming a big sister, over and over, as baby after baby is placed in your mothering arms. This is you, struggling to watch over the growing flock, and helping your parents as much as you can.

And, this is you, growing away from being a girl, into a woman's body, this is you with legs so long,thatyou don't know how to contain them. This is you feeling like a tiny girl, as you stand a foot taller than everyone, always. This is the exact moment, when you stopped believing in how very smart and special and beautiful you are.

and, then this is you hiding, tucking yourself in, behind the walls. This is you not wanting to be noticed, anymore. This is you, disappearing. This is you, as only a voice in your head. This is you, stumbling through life, wishing to go unnoticed, but needing desperately to be seen. This is you, filled with contradictions. This is you, throwing yourself across oceans, hoping to float away. This is you dreaming of your life being a John Hughes film, waiting for the Orchestral Manoevres in the Dark Song, to swell in the background, as a soundless boy, with expressionfilled eyes, chases you and catches you and captures and enraptures you. This is you, alone. This is you watching movies. c r y i n g , knowing somehow, that this will never happen to you.

This is you meeting a man, who sees the girl as a woman. This is the girl, offering herself, even though she knows she is just a girl. This is the man, taking. This is the girl giving. This is the girl believing and not believing at the same time. This is you, starving for him. This is him,sated, pushing away from the table, as the stars slide away, and the moon disappears between his teeth. This is him, slipping back into the night from whence he came.

This is the girl, unbelieveably sad .

This is you, going off to college, still a girl, pretending to be all grown up. This is the girl, happy. This is the girl who met a pretty boy. Who watched her staring at the sky one night, as she walked home from class. This is the boy, staring curiously into the same sky, wondering what the girl is looking at. This is you, winning over the boy. This is you staring into the sky, because you could not look at him, without giving away your crush.

This is you needing him to wonder. wonder what you were looking at. wonder who you are. This is him wondering. Because he is so wonder.full This is the boy you love. and he paints your heart. red. He smears you with paint filled kisses.This is you loving him. He lets you sketch him. He lets you taste his colours. He stretches out, above you and covers you. He smooths out your creases. He becomes your truth. This is you, falling. This is you loving a boy. This is your boy, saying he thinks he also loves a boy. This is the two of you crying for days. This is you, holding him, saying it will be ok. This is you trying to understand. This is you wishing you could stop holding him, so he could hold you, and whisper everything is gonna be ok. but. *nothing* is ok. This is the sound of your belief in fairy tales, smashing to the floor.

This is you crumpled like a wilted flower laying upon the bathroom tile to feel the coldness seeping into your skin. This is you needing to feel. This is you, going numb from the coldness. This is not the way it was supposed to be. This is the way it is. This is you getting up off the floor, and packing your bags. This is you, running away to london.

And this is you, finding the girl you want to be, in the glossy high street shop window. This is you, promising yourself that one day this will be your life, You want to live in a cluttered ground floor flat, filled with some dishevelled academic British poet boy's books. You long to smell his aftershave on your pillow and dream of your perfect half English baby sleeping in the next room. You hope this will happen someday.

Instead, you meet a boy, who is not an Academic Brit boy, but a very handsome Muslim. This is the boy, who tries to glitter you with the bright lights of flashy cars and oil money. This is you, falling for a boy that you know is shallow. He does not taste like forever. This is you curling up with this boy, who tells you, he has a fiancee back home,a girl that he has never met. and whom he will eventually marry. This is you, not understanding. because, the boy is curled up with you. This is you saying " WHAT?" This is the muslim boy angry with you for not understanding. This is him, thowing the gifts he gave you, out the window. This is you throwing him out of your heart. (because he never belonged there in the first place )

This is you sleepwalking through summer into autumn, into spring and into summer again, and then, into your life falls the very best friend you have ever met. This is the kind of friendship that changes your life, ( for the better) This is the most beautiful and pure treasure you have ever been given. Some moments sparkle brighter than others, but always the ones with * her* are the best. This is you finally realizing how very lucky you are.

This is you, laughing. This is you making each other laugh yourself silly. This is you driving through Europe, denting Dutch cars and wrecking havoc. This is the time of your life, this is you looking back and realizing how young and fun you once were. This is you glad that you did not waste it on the boys who did not deserve it.

This is you graduating from college, and not knowing what you want to be when you grow up. This is you, hiding your degrees and flying to Florida...

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