A year ago today, I was climbing into bed after a whirlwind 48 hours of graduation and the fiasco of banquet… What a year.

You are not alone in your turmoil, love,

look up and you’ll see grey faces that are waiting for color.

Grey fades to white, suffocating and shocked,

but only for a second.

Keep looking, and you’ll see red bursting through lost pigment-

They are waiting to burst, wanting to burst, if only you’ll look up.

Vibrant red, however misunderstood and tripping over outside factors,

However awkward and miscommunicated and stinging,

However chaotic and reaching out its arms and thickening like fudge,

However worn and torn by the replays that wear and tear and sting, still, a year later.

Stop looking at the ground, stop looking side to side for comfort,

Look up and you’ll see it!

And after countless hours of me loving you and you loving him and him loving nothing

It has become clear that this violent circle will never end if we continue on in silence.

Because now I miss you and you miss him and he never knew,

And for what?

The red is still bursting through, still replaying, but trying to ignore.

Still misunderstood and a little bit lost, but that’s okay.

But all you see is grey faces,

And even as the red wipes the remainder of grey away,

And softens to pink as it heals and settles,

You have still yet to welcome the color.

A year ago, you assumed you were alone in your turmoil,

and you never had to be.

Our super cute tour guide from the capitol building today (an Aggie, btw, who I have mutual friends from Utah state with) added me on Facebook. Nbd.

“Once you get inside, there will be no photography-with or without flashing, moving or not moving. But you may draw! Just not on our documents.” Haha, excuse me while I pull out my pen and paper and sketch the Declaration of Independence :)

The sinking feeling returns,

just as unsettling and nauseating as before,

and now I know why.

Just signed an official document as somebody else. It was a very stressful situation.

I’m just putting on the record right now that someday, I will have either a Teacup Maltese or a Peekapoo puppy. That’s all.

Maltese

Peekapoo

SO CUTE

My entire life is either in a suitcase, in a box, or hanging in my closet so we can pick up the rest and put it in the car come August, 40-hours-and-11-states-in-3-days worth of CD’s made, scrutiny of shoes in order to close my suitcase over with (which, lemme tell ya, was a task), post-craziness/pre-craziness breakdown complete, time to see people (for the most part) in the past, last bath for a long time coming as soon as this is posted, and completely exhausted.

Ready for 2 weeks of traveling across the U.S., 4 days in Boise to throw together a reception, my other brother’s Court of Honor, say goodbye to the people I won’t see until Thanksgiving or Christmas, make sure everything for school is ready so I can come home and turn right back around to move down to Logan, 2 mission farewells, a 6am flight to San Diego, then 2 months in Mexico, totally separated from everything I’ve ever known, another 15 hours in the car, and moving back to Logan for school within 48 hours of being back in the United States.

Time flew.

Cried tonight for the first time since I don’t even remember.

Flaws I’m working on fixing, mistakes I’m letting go of, challenges I’m preparing to face, people I miss, people I never should have hurt, intentions I miscommunicated, pain that I caused, feeling so unworthy of forgiveness from God or myself or anybody else, huge changes I’m bracing for, trying to understand why I have been so unbelievably blessed when I have been so unbelievably selfish, facing the fact that I am so far away from being the person I crave to be-

All caught up to me tonight

as soon as the last suitcase was zipped, and the last box closed.

Now I breathe, and release. Long overdue.

I really should be packing up my whole life right now, but I’m so happy I just can’t focus on it.

I just can’t.

Songs about dentists will always remind me of you.

My hand moves towards the “next” button,

Wanting to erase; shaking my head; feeling guilty and disappointed in both of us all over again-

Because we’re both equally talented at making each other feel guilty,

And we’re both equally guilty in return-

Drowning out the absurdities of miscommunication.

But, I let it play. I let the chaos in my brain settle into evaporation-

It’s a good remembrance, a good memory, however tainted or frustrated

By the realization that everything was much more fragile than it seemed.

And whenever you hear songs about dentists and the chaos in your brain begins to rattle,

I hope you let it play, too.

The daily confirmation of my decision

is the only thing keeping me from showing up on your doorstep,

dripping in questions,

spilling out all the answers to the questions you never asked,

that you will never ask.

And so the answers sink.