growth.

i gave up on love. i gave up on marriage.

it wasn't because i was old or tired of waiting, it was because i had been hurt. i had been lied to. i had been disappointed and tossed aside like garbage.

and they're not supposed to hurt you -- words. but they do.

words that go unsaid, they hurt.
words that are said insincerely, they hurt.
promises that are issued without thought and then broken, they hurt.

and through all that hurt it seemed impossible.

it seemed impossible that a boy existed who just wanted me to be happy. (not just make me laugh or entertain me, but to make and keep me happy every second of every day.)

it seemed too much to ask for a boy to care about my day.

it seemed there would never be a boy who listened.

i felt incredible. i felt deserving. i felt funny and attractive and relatively intelligent.
but i didn't believe that there could ever be a boy who saw all of that and my flaws and wanted to keep it.

no matter what the future held, i was certain that i was stuck with me.
i can never escape this body. i can change my name and looks and location, but this body and soul, they are mine.

and so i made myself into a version i was am proud of. i worked hard physically, spiritually, mentally, emotionally.

i worked on me. and that's when everything changed. i wasn't looking for someone to complete me or say the right thing around every corner. i wasn't looking for an elusive puzzle piece. i was more than content, i had created happiness.

i made myself into someone better, and then i got someone who was better.

dream boy.

i have been in two relationships. each lasted exactly two months from first date to break-up.
both of these boys were outgoing and funny.
both liked to cook.
both had hoards of friends.
both of them had dreams and ambitions within reach. -- both of them worked hard to make them come true.
both treated me with respect.
both spoke of marriage and futures, and both made plans.
each is a good person and each deserve beauty and love and happiness.

dream boy is different.

dream boy is quiet, he is a wallflower.
dream boy teases me, but never mocks.
dream boy does not seek attention.
dream boy listens and observes.
dream boy accepts compliments graciously, but never seeks them out.
dream boy opens doors for everyone, all the time, no matter what.
dream boy makes me feel safe.
dream boy always says thank you.
dream boy never returns animosity.
dream boy offers assistance and helps even when i deem it unnecessary.
dream boy inspires me and encourages me.

dream boy is different.

he isn't mine. he may never be.
but he has done more good for my heart than anyone else in the world.

i'd like him to be the third. the one who breaks all the patterns. the snow that doesn't melt so quickly.

when your life becomes gilmore girls.

they told me, over and over again that this was it.

but i kept telling myself that everyone leaves.
that it isn't real.

i guess, someone sees you so vulnerable and it's hard to imagine they'll see you in any other way.
that even though you've changed and grown, that they'll only remember your tear-stained face in the corner.

but then he does stay.
and he tells me i'm beautiful.

and i just can't.

there is no reason for it.

i should be in love with the person in front of me. the person offering forever.

but i'm not.

and it breaks my heart that i can't give him this one thing when he has given me everything.

church christmas dinner.

pouring rain.

wet shoes climbing a ladder.

heavy box overhead, while descending a ladder.

prayers that if i fall and die someone will find me soon.

safe landing.

wondering why i still haven't bought new windshield wipers.

u-turn for teeth brushing; wouldn't want dream boy to suffer.

bff jill saves the day.

psycho yells at me.

meet gaze with dream boy and ignore her.

people thinking i'm in charge.

happy about sitting under the chandelier. 

sad that dream boy is in another room.

peppermint dessert to die for.

hiding upstairs to have secret conversations.

spontaneous duet.

nearly choking on a cough drop.

frequent eye contact with dream boy.

bishop telling us to focus on perfecting ourselves.

distracted by the perfect ornaments and twinkling lights.

SANTA.

skinny santa?

lots of girls vying for dream boy's attention.

i throw a napkin at his head. [see above.]

he comes to me.

bff jill and flyza conveniently leave us alone. wink.

sporadic cleaning.

muscles and chest hair.

subtly following dream boy back inside.

watching psycho corner and interrogate him.

appreciating that he is so polite.

knowing i'll never jump in and save him because she'd probably yell at me again.

marveling at christmas decorations from tai pan.

wanting to steal the peppermint dessert.

awkward laughing at random boy's "jokes".

walking between psycho and dream boy to interrupt and say goodbye. [and get attention.]

he kicks me.

daydreaming all the way home.

better than revenge.

It began with birthday cake. Riley pinched out the candle flame before the song was over and I yelled at him. He quickly re-lit and made a new wish so it would actually come true.

Next, the games began. So much water was squirted and dumped. Balloons and guns and sprinklers. Then Riley brought out a literal bow and arrow and proceeded to shoot everyone, because he 'was trying to make it realistic.'

Don't worry, Kari. It's padded. He said. It will be fun. He said.

The odds were not in my favor.

With the water sources depleted, my heart calmed down. Until he placed me in a death-grip. The more I fought back the tighter the hold. Soon, he brings me to the ground. Best friend comes to save me -- he brings her down while still holding me. Not sure if I should be fearful of or impressed by his strength. Minutes later, Anna and I both surrender.

Riley receives death threats and glares from my mascara stained face.

Dry clothes are found as the men set up our backyard movie.

He gives me an apology hug and I dump a bottle of freezing cold water on his head.

Us girls decide the best punishment is cuddling with someone else during the movie.

And then Peeta's face. Movie giggles. Frozen boys.

A perfect end to summer.

bachelor pad.

the best part is knowing boys in real-life that have said the exact same things about girls i know.

or is it the worst part?

he knows i'm not good with surprises.

he opened the passenger door for me. my only instruction was to look at the piece of paper on the front seat.
i didn't know where we were going or what was waiting for us.

the paper was blank; i laughed as he walked around front and got in the driver's seat.
before i could question it, he took every color of pen from the center console and handed them to me.

you're going to draw a picture.


of what? i asked.

of everything that is stressing you out; everything that makes you mad and sad and frustrated.


then, we started driving. and driving.

twenty minutes into the desert i had drawn and written down everything i could think of.
[including a picture of the jerk-face sharks that eat baby sea turtles, which i had reluctantly watched on PBS the night before.]


we turned onto a dirt road.

is it hard to talk positively while writing negatively?


he can read minds.

we came to a stop. i folded up the paper and gave it to him.

from the back he pulled a cardboard box and placed my pain inside.

he hammered a stake into the dust and placed the box on top. a target was taped to the outside, and within seconds he placed hearing protectors on my head and a handgun in my palm.

and then i shot six rounds.

he reloaded.

i shot again.

and again.

and again.

and that was it.

he complimented my accuracy. we got back in the car and he drove me home.

my thumb is black and blue. i have a blood blister on my pinky.
battle scars i proudly show off.

but with them is a hole in my heart.
for a boy that picked me up on a saturday night, just to help me relieve stress.
when he has an even heavier load to carry.

aftermath.

abandonment was her matress,

a firm, cold reality
that dreams don't come true.
her heartache collects dust,
and no maid comes to clean it.

as time passes, her memory remains.
a boy from months past
continues to be seen --
in flashes and wishes
and fairytale books.
a toad in disguise
keeps her heart closed; confined.

no bedtime story
or soft, lullabye
can return the hope
that once lived in her mind.
wishes on stars are willed to come true, 
but often,
so often,
they fall out of the sky.

her heart,
not quite broken or missing,
is just simply trapped,
in a world full of dragons and swords.
with no knight coming bravely,
and no kiss on her lips
to help her wake up.

i rant and you unfollow me.

Subtitle: There's a big difference between knowing what you deserve, and believing it exists.

Today in church someone spoke about how often the reason [especially for men] that people aren't married is because they're afraid of commitment.

Everyone... everyone, laughed. Except me.
Straight-faced, I nodded my head. I agree whole-heartedly.

It's like that line from a Taylor Swift song, 'I brace myself for the goodbye, because it's all I've ever known.'

And it's not so much that I'm afraid of committing to someone. I just have a hard time believing that someone will commit to me forever.


And why is there this notion that we have to remain friends with someone who walked away from us? What do I owe them?

If someone is going to commit to me, obviously I will do everything I can to put them first. But if they break that commitment, I resume first priority.

And I do not want to use my time and energy keeping someone happy, who doesn't even want me in their life.

Dating is the worst.

"All your theories on love sound more like the rantings of a bitter and cynical woman." - The Wedding Planner

since his return from a stay on the moon.

"I'm afraid that [he] might think of me as:
Plain ol' Jane told a story about a man
Who was too afraid to fly so he never did land."
- Drops of Jupiter, Train

there was this over-whelming distance.

this barrier that only needed time to fall.

as the seconds grew shorter, her heart beat faster.

his presence fell closer and her breaths,

farther apart.

she could imagine his chuckle, his soft smile.

confident dreaming could sustain her aching heart.

her mind was restless; too trusting in rumors.

until she forced herself to replace her hope

with reality.

her mind redirected, but still her heart

chased after a shooting star--out of reach.

her mind reinforced the barrier's strength.

whispers slipped through the cracks; her heart

beat on.

displaced and erased again and again,

her feelings fought through and her love,

her adoration remained for him. a boy

of few words, whose glance turned her knees

into eggshells.

**Summer-school should be forbidden for future doctors that I'm infatuated with. Okay?