Category: Dear Yesterday

Not all Who Wander…

Today marks exactly 6 months since my life completely changed. Without acknowledging that aloud this morning, I think my sub-conscience did. These last 6 months have been awful, beautiful, life-stealing and life-giving.

I stand here a more authentic version of myself than I’ve ever been before. The Laura that greets me each morning is the real woman who has been hiding nervously all these years.

Am I still incredibly afraid of ever attaching myself to another person again? Yes. Does that mean that my bravery is weaker than my fear? Nope.

It’s hard to accept it’s all just a distant memory. A faded picture growing more dim each day. I am thankful this choice was made for me. I am thankful I am forging my own path, finally. But that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.

6 months… I’m finally stronger and the farthest thing from lost.

Beautiful Things

Sunset“You make beautiful things.”

A few weeks ago I found myself starring west out of an unfamiliar window that some people called my home. It was new. It was weird. It was nothing like I’d thought it would be. As tears began to pool in the corners of my eyes, I mourned the story I had pre-written for this part of my life. I mourned… sitting on cold pavement as the sky blazed orange. I mourned the broken promises, now fictitious plans, and all the things I held so close to my recently shattered heart.

“You make beautiful things out of dust.”

That’s the funny thing about new beginnings: I’m not sure anyone actually wants them until they are thrust upon them and they have no choice. I’d found myself at the starting line of a new beginning looking back at where I was, longing for any opportunity to return. There was acceptance in the past. There was fun and laughter. There was something more real and honest than anything I’d experienced before. At this new beginning there is nothing but stark silence as the rain falls. There are no incoming words to soothe my broken soul. There are no promises of future restoration. There is nothing but me, the cold pavement, and the sky begging to become night.

“All this pain. I wonder if I’ll ever find my way.”

To quote Ben Folds, “hope is a bastard, a liar, a cheat, a tease.” She stands just outside your reach, whispering promises that may never come. She creeps up in the depths of your soul, trying to heal the wounded parts against your will. She ploys you late at night with phrases like, “hold on”, “don’t give up”, “you’ll be ok”. She shows herself in the faces of those who love you as they try to take your pain away. She tries to steer your mind away from the happy memories, sweet smiles, and mountaintop moments. She tries to remind you that things weren’t that great. That you were in a bad place. That you weren’t cared for. That you weren’t appreciated the way you should be. She stands just out of reach painting a picture of what could be, but offers no help to draw you closer to her. She shows herself in rainy sunsets, alone on the pavement, shaking with a sadness you can’t contain. She whispers the truth… upsetting, outrageous, anger-inducing truth.

“He makes beautiful things out of us.”

The sun blazed orange and flashed to breath-taking pink. My chest ached from the cavern that appeared within. No kind words from friends could reduce the pain. No gentle smiles or strong embraces could close the hole shouting its presence. I was dust. I was less than dust. I was the mess swept under the rug that breaks down and finds its home in the land between existing and not.

“You make beautiful things out of dust.”

Hope lingers near. She lingers in every sunset I watch from my new “home”. She declares herself each morning in my review mirror as she illuminates the brilliant fall colors while I hold back pre-work tears. She exudes her warmth in the embrace of a friend who knows the only thing they can do is hold you while you shake. She stands vigil by my side as I fight the thoughts trying to drag me further into the pit I fought so hard to save myself from.

Someone once told me that “there is no hope”. Little did he know she was blazing right behind him, gentle arms outstretched, calling me towards the truth that beautiful things can be made out of dust, we just have to be made into that dust first.



2012: A year in review written in Haiku

Live a better story: Living 2012 with purposeThere have been mutliple attempts to complete a “goodbye 2012” post in the last few days, but each one just falls flat and I grow frustrated… and then it hit me… write it in Haiku. Perfect! So here is my ode to 2012, written month by month, in the classic and timeless form of japanese poetry. Let us begin! (more…)

What are you afraid of?

With my eyes closed I can feel the moment all over again. The sound in his voice: icy, broken, scared, and selfish. The thick rage thumping inside my chest as it fought against the sea of pity I did not want to feel. The stagnant silence accompanied by the complete and utter lack of words within my reach. It was over. After battling through our formative years, it was over. (more…)

Oh, to be 18 again…

Today is move-in day for the freshman at my Alma mater. Can you believe it’s been 5 years since I graduated and 8 years since I was moving into the dorms? Yikes. Our alumni association started a trend on twitter asking for advice for the students’ first days. After writing out a few contrived “ring before spring” hate notes I found the heart of the advice I was dishing. Ready? Ahem…. (more…)