Elegy

I've borrowed the title from one of my most favorite movies, in fact, it is quite possibly my favorite movie ever. I think it chronicles the most lovely and poignant story I've seen or heard in some time.
There is a bit in the film in which the main character's best friend tells about his theory on beautiful women. He says that "Beautiful women are invisible[...] that we [people] are so dazzled by their beautiful exterior that we don't even see what's within." As melancholy and dramatic as this may seem, I believe it to be quite true. There are people in the world, not only women but men too, who are in fact exquisite, artwork in and of themselves, as though their only reason for being created was for the rest of us to stop and stare. I don't mean you're typical sort of model or actress. No, I mean those people who simply take your breath away and command a second, third, or even fourth glance because they're so lovely you think it can't possibly be real.
I wonder though, what is it like hiding beneath that shell. It must be quite lonely as people seemingly so unattainable are rarely ever pursued for anything more than some gratuitous escapade. I'm certain though that there must be much more depth beneath that most lovely facade. So I wonder, what sort of person is tenacious enough to pursue that hidden mystery? What must it take to gently chip away at the shell of a Faberge egg in order to discover the secret within? And how great must that love be?

To be Loved

Recently a friend of mine gave me a quote, which I'm sure to misquote actually, but the gist of it is something along the lines of being sure to surround oneself with people who truly celebrate and love him or her as opposed to merely tolerating the person. This thought is something I've carried closely in my thoughts lately as I have evaluated various relationships in my life. The idea of someone actually celebrating all of my quirks and idiosyncrasies is one I can barely grasp as I generally feel as though I'm little more than a novelty...a play thing that loses its luster quite rapidly, only to be tossed aside for the next best thing.

I was explaining that to a very dear friend of mine earlier this lovely evening and his response was one of shock. He looked at me in disbelief as I detailed why I have come to this conclusion. Yes, I know this seems like a "woe is me" sort of tale, but it's about to take a turn. At that point in the conversation my friend tells me he thinks I'm beautiful and that he loves me. He tells me again when we leave that he loves me very much. And that friends, is the loveliest thing. Why? Because I know he means it...every ounce of it. That was a most sincere comment, and one that will always be held dear. In the midst of all the hustle and bustle of this Christmas season, I am fully convinced being the recipient of one true love is the greatest gift of all.

on a night like this...

my heart truly is broken. i sit here in the comfort of my pillowy, plush bed with a heavy heart as the father of one of my dearest friends has passed away. i know that she now sits alone in a hotel room with a heart full of hurt, pain, questioning, shock, relief, anger, and frustration. selfishly i want to get in my car and drive to her immediately if for no other reason than to sit in that hotel room with her. but that is for my sake, so i can feel as though i am doing something to comfort her in a tangible way since i am four hours away geographically. realistically, i know it makes no difference whether i am there in person or not though. at the end of the day, the pain is hers. nothing i can say or do will take it away or even lessen it at all. and selfishly, that is the hardest part for me.

she asked me if it ever gets easier...not having a dad. the truth is, for me at least, it hurts less over time. well most days that's true anyway. overall though, it's never easier. it has been over 16 years since my dad died, and i will always miss him. i think of him every day. and not one day goes by when i don't wish he were still here with me. but yes, generally, it hurts less. like my friend said of her father, at least mine is no longer in pain.

but oh god why did this happen while she is away with no one geographically close enough to her to go and be with her? no one should have to handle this in such solitude. lord i hope she knows she is not alone. i know that it hurts most at night in still, quiet darkness. i know too though that i found the most comfort in that place. i was able to be truly alone to deal with the hurt and angst in my own time and in my own way. i cried myself to sleep for months...maybe years. i don't remember exactly. but that solitude was the only place i could truly break down and feel the emotions that transpired out of that ordeal. i hope the same for my beloved friend. i hope and pray that she finds peace in the quiet solitude. my god i hope she is able to rest there and lay down her burden. please god if you are there, hear her cries and give her comfort and rest from this, the most painful thing she has yet to endure in her life