Sister.Mother.

I spent Easter with Momma Piper, Kristyn, and Mandy. It was beloved. It could not have been more different then last Easter. Seriously. So entirely different.

Late Sunday night K and I were talking up a storm about some really significant things and cross roads that are quickly approaching in life. Of my time there, that conversation which was not planned was clearly the purpose of my trip. In a deep place I had anticipated that being an Easter surprise would present a great opportunity to spend a short amount of time with both Momma Piper and Kristyn, and then politely and gracefully decline my invitation to Graduation. I had prayed a lot about it. I had talked to both Matt and Mandy about not going. There are several moments in a day when the battle and reasons why I do not want to go outweigh the reason I promised months ago I would.

On Sunday night in the midst of a conversation unplanned, and unanticipated... the one reason I wanted to go was greater then every reason not to. Since then I've talked to both Momma Piper and Kristyn not about my struggle in coming. But have heard how much and how excited, they are to share the weekend together. How to balance that joy and celebration with the other truth. Its hard going into something knowing its the last time.

I'm thankful to have received a text from Momma Piper about my plans for Easter, and extended the invitation, "You will always be welcome in my home". Sometimes I have to take a moment to let that sink in. And as I continue to move on into the future and towards the notion of creating a family of my own, I savor the time I get to spend with two women that love me as their own... just as I am. It's amazing how original promises of love and friendship change... and when you let go they become so much bigger, and next week it will be about the bonds and love of sisterhood.

Chemistry.

Zach and Kelly.

Laverne and Shirley.

Mickey and Minnie.

Derrick and Meredith.

The entire Friends cast.

Pooh and Piglet.

The M o o n and The S t a r s.

Last week I was asked some questions regarding Chemistry. I've been thinking about how the people we tend to fight for most are the ones that when we are with them, we cannot deny the truth.

In High School I went with my friend Meagan and her parents to Disney World. The plan was that my BFF Greg would come, and her BFF Jeff would come. Perfect. A vacation in the most magical place on earth. This was going to be dynamite. It was until Greg couldn't come. And I didn't know Jeff, so we weren't going to invite him anymore. Debbie her mother, didn't know this change in plans and invited Jeff anyway.

He said yes.

So... off we went. I met Jeff in the car on the way to the airport. I remember we were matching. I was wearing khaki shorts and a polo. So was he. I knew going into the trip that Meagan had a crush on Jeff. I didn't know really anything more about him. We didn't run in the same social circles at school, and never shared a class. I literally had no idea who Jeff Lane was.

But it was instant.

Someone said something on the way to the airport and I was in a fit of giggles, as was he. And that was it. We were instant best friends. Now imagine how awkward this was in light of the fact I was on Meagan's family vacation, I knew she liked him, and yet he and I hit it off. We weren't inappropriate. But, it was different. And it was special.

After a very fun and magical time in Disney we all returned to Connecticut to start school the next day, our Junior Year. After many late nights up watching fireworks, eating out at fun establishments, and riding the Tower of Terror more then a dozen times our last night, there was nothing at home that would top the week.

I left for that trip really close to Greg, he was really special to me at the time, and even though he was Jewish and I was not- I think we both deeply respected our convictions to what we believed was the truth, even if it contradicted each other (on a multitude of levels). I walked into Junior year, up the stairs and a hooked a left down the hall to my locker. I turned around, and Jeff's locker was across from me. It had been across from me the entire time, I never knew it, or knew him. The weeks that followed that trip included a very hurtful explosion between Greg and I, whom felt replaced and hurt. One morning Greg and another friend of our's approached me with a box. I had asked at one point for a book or something I had lent him. Not thinking anything of the box, I said thank you and let him walk away. Finally realizing that a box is not an appropriate device to hold a book, I opened it. Inside were all my letters, tokens and gifts we had exchanged the year prior. It was our story. In a box.

My third period teacher Mrs. Arneth was also our Dean. I loved her. Having unraveled the rest of the morning in the arrival of this box, I collected myself and it and went to her office. I sat and I cried. Jeff joined me. On the floor of her office I spread out the things that the box contained. I had one singular hand on my back, right in the middle... the one place when touched I instantly feel secure and protected. I looked up at him after I noticed something drop, and I saw a steady stream of tears that matched my own.

And that is when the friendship that was so fun, turned into something so real. In my High School experience, I can't say that there was anyone that I loved more then him. He still hung out with his friends, and I did my thing with Young Life and Emmaus. We lived our own lives, but I knew that across the hall from my locker was someone that could catch my glance and read my entire heart.

After High School ended I moved to a street in New Haven, and Jeff came to visit one day. Jessica his then girlfriend, now wife was away at school. Strangely enough it was a a street he himself was familiar with and had lived on a short time (we had at that point already a long list of coincidences: named pets the same thing was one of our first realizations).What's refreshing about true real chemistry is that it doesn't disappear with time. It led us to a really great place, and I loved being able to spend time with him and hear about his life, his love, his future, his plans. I was happy. He came to my birthday party one Fall, and I still have the photograph of him with all my new friends and in my new life. We had always dreamed of moving to San Francisco together, and the gift he gave that year spoke to it- a movie set there.

I can't imagine my teenage years without him. I have a couple of cards still tucked away in a special place with his signature, and I have a picture or two from us at my brother's wedding... but the picture I love most is the one with him, and I posing with Tigger at breakfast one morning while we were still meeting.

I am relational. I have had some incredibly meaningful relationships in my life. I have been loved and known and hurt and disappointed. I have countless friends that I could invite to a party... and I have friends that stay well after the party has ended to help clean up. In my life however I have met 3 people that in the instant we met, there was so much to say. I don't compare or place people in my heart according to the instant intensity.

But some people are magic.

Some people are a fairy tale.

Jeff and I grew up and apart. We never had a fight, we just had moved on into different things. It wasn't painful. There was no yelling, no fighting, and no crying. Life happened. We grew up. I think about him from time to time. There is one song that catches me on the radio and I have to smile and laugh as I am instantly returned to a 16 year old (and I love that Kathryn will also hear it, and think of us). We didn't share similar views on God or Christianity- which just proves to me that some bonds can overcome the biggest obstacles and opposition. I don't know if his views have changed since adulthood, and I pray that as he becomes a Father himself one day- that maybe he will be more open to the Creator. He's going to be a great Father. Having been hurt by one himself, I have always believed and known that his children are going to be so blessed by his heart for them. I knew that at 16, and 15 years later I still feel it swell in my heart when I think of the man I hope he became. I'm so grateful for having known him. I was invited to his wedding a few years but could not attend. I remember the day that the invitation came, and how excited and joyful I was for him, and Jessica and how still after all the years since we met, I was part of a guest list invited to celebrate.

Though, chemistry can be tricky.

Those in which you feel some bigger connection to, always hurt and scar a little deeper then the rest. Those wounds take more time to heal. Those people become the ones we most want to have in our lives and forgive- but are the most scary. Nothing worthwhile is easy. I think the risk of being hurt again or still allow our connections to others the permission to place it somewhere safe. We remove aspects of ourselves and the other person to make us, and our hearts comfortable. The risk. The intensity is released, so that we can still have them in our lives- just safely. I debate daily how to live a life balanced between rational thought and submission to something difficult to articulate.

I have not seen Jeff in years. Probably something like 10. I imagine running into him one day in Disney World, with our respective families in tow. We will laugh, and share a great story from August 1997 when we met and were instant life long friends- even though we don't know each other now, upon meeting again it will be as it always had been. Instant. True. Friends.

And what I've learned with true chemistry, is that we may not always be able to see or talk to someone we are so magically connected to, however in that way it likens the moon and the stars- even when out of sight, they are still and are always there.

Angry.

Have you ever noticed that when you are driving someone else's car, you become a much better driver? Or when you rent a car, you take precautions that you normally roll right through in your own vehicle? When you acclimate, and get comfortable your driving tends to relax and you become less defensive. You coast. You pause at stop signs. You get from point A to point B sometimes without even being able to recall how you got there.

I think we treat people the same way. I think we are cautious and intentional with someone else's heart in the beginning, and then somewhere along the way we get comfortable... and sometimes that leads to becoming hurtful.

Tonight I was driving home from work in what felt like a monsoon. The rain was so hard. It was difficult to sometimes see. But what was more terrifying then the lack of vision, was when the rain overwhelmed the tread on my tires and I would hydroplane.

I was asked recently by a beloved friend how my heart was regarding a specific relationship. I answered honestly. Her response was classic- it was an echo of dislike and caution I have heard for four years. I always defended my position, and I always believed that the intentions were good. Monday afternoon sitting in a little grassy area on Capital Hill, I had nothing other to say than that I was hurt. There was no justification. There was no optimism.

I have thought about my response since then. How I've protected myself and the friendship from judgement, and I think what I finally realized was that I've been holding myself captive by not being able to share my truth about it.

I am angry. Incredibly and frustratingly angry. Sometimes I feel disapointed and foolish. I am angry to be treated in silence. To be left in known confusion. I feel unknown and unloved and uncared for.

I wish we handled our hearts and those we care about with as much caution and trepidation as we approach driving a car that is not ours.

I also had a painfully sad moment while driving thinking about all of these things. As I hydroplaned and felt myself lose control of my car- that if I were to die in a car accident the last thing I would have been thinking was how angry I was at someone that I used to care so much for. When I regained control of my car, and caught my breath I was so sad. Thankful that I did not crash into a guardrail, thankful that I was able to compose myself after the scare... but endlessly sad... and angry... still.

I spoke out loud to the silence in my car and I said "I'm angry." and I just kept talking to myself, to no one, to the one I feel so inflicted by. The conversation was animated for being just one sided. I realized quickly that by finally being able to say how I felt out loud, and not having to hold it in- that my anger was able to morph into something new.

permission.

I had to admit that sometimes when I approach my mailbox there is a split second that I wish for nothing more to be found inside then a postcard that says, "You are loved. You are missed. I'm sorry." Sometimes I think this postcard could be magical. My illusion of it is that I would believe it upon arrival, and that all that I have protected myself and them from will vanish. What I knew and always believed to be true would to restored.

And then, I realize that the postcard is not inside the metal black box. There is a moment in which a sigh of sadness is released. Disappointment for believing it would or could be there.

But then relief, because I am able to for another day not have to respond to someone I do not trust, or be open to someone who has proven so confusing.

I know that when we least expect it, what we are waiting for comes.

I am waiting for something that cannot be found in a mailbox.

I am hoping that it will be able to fill this space in my heart, where so much hurt, resentment, and anger occupy.

In a movie I am watching the main character sends an email to someone she cares about explaining that their relationship has come to a pass. Her friend finally calls back to acknowledge the letter, and apologizes for the time it took to do so. She asks him why he hadn't yet responded, he says to her, "If I didn't respond it meant we were still having a conversation..."

I am realizing more and more how important it is to understand the value of our own heart, our own journey, and how our path is ours with God. That people are going to push us into guardrails, and they are going to sometimes make us cry torrential downpours... but that we are worth the process of no longer protecting and excusing the behavior and finally owning how it has made us feel.

The conversation must begin. So that it can finally end.

I pulled off the highway to drive into Lexington on Route 11. The rain eased up over each mile. I turned to pick up my dinner, Won Ton soup and saw Ryan's car in the Hardee's drive thru. I pulled up next to him and we shared about our day. He asked me how it was, and without pretense or hesitation I told him the truth. I told him I was also glad I didn't die on the highway. We made some small talk, made some plans, and I continued on my dinner mission. It was a respite of sunshine... it was real life returned in the midst of a battle in my car.

When I pulled up to my mailbox after finally admitting to myself what I had been hoping I would find inside, I realized that because I was able to be truly honest with myself about how I felt that my hidden desire held less power. Wanting an apology became less important. Though wanting to feel less hurt remained. Silences and Pinkie Swears do not honor what was realized in the car- that the permission to speak is important... because what I feel and how I'm treated matters.

I write this because I am struggling in how to share this part of the story with those I love.

I write this because I am hopeful that by doing so I will not expect so much for what I am waiting for.

I write this because I am angry... and it was time to finally admit that out loud.

I write this because if I can get out that which I have held in- the conversation will at last, end.

And what I'm waiting for will finally come.

And that is for the anger to subside.

And peace to come.

And neither of those things, can be found in a mailbox.

This much, I know is true.

Mess & Well

I'm sort of a mess.

And by sort of I mean, yes not a complete mess. Just a partial one.

I want to censor myself. And take that first sentence back.

But I can't. Because I know its as important to write the highs of life, as it is the low.

That writing the low doesn't mean I'm weak or immature.

The depth and richness is hard.

I know.

Yet sometimes I find myself on the edge of this place praying not for strength to make it easier, or knowledge to make decisions firm... but I am in a temper tantrum to the Lord. Hurling things at Him that are not productive, and cause me to firmly hold onto the control in which is an illusion.

I imagine the Lord is laughing at me during those spells of emotional conversation. Especially because in light of everything I've dealt with in recent years, this time of transition is a piece of cake.

I just don't want to participate.

I want a 'get out of jail' free card.

I want a 5 week trip to Europe to take pictures.

I want a girls trip to Vegas to celebrate Sisterhood.

More then any of those things, I want to be moved out from between the rock and the hard place.

There are many things cycling through my mind. I have great, amazing, and supportive friends.

And I hope they don't hate that I am about to say this, but I want more.

And not because they aren't loving and helpful.

But because I'm a 13 year old girl right now sitting on the edge of this place screaming for direction, and for this time to pass, and freaking out about small and big things in the process.

In the midst of those truths, I will conclude this with the following contradictory statement.

I am doing well.

Because I know I'm being stretched and being made more like Christ through my submission in this process.

I know that I am supported and loved by great friends.

I know that I will miss this period when it passes.

I know that I am not promised easy, or more...

but that my heart knows with conviction that the Lord is enough.

So while I'm sort of a mess.... its a beautiful one and I'm doing well.

ryan.birthday.

Yesterday was Ryan's Birthday. We had a party. There were a lot of his favorite things.

At the closing of the night, well after the larger group had left he said,

"Favorite Birthday. I felt so loved."

To the girl who loves Birthday's, and Planning Parties?

J o y!

a sneak peak of pics to come:

24 layer chocolate cake from NYC. had been featured on the food network, best thing i ever ate.

party hats. are the best.

feeling frisky with matty.

happy.

April 2nd

April 2nd.

The first Saturday I've had off since the beginning on the year.

Quarter one is done at work, and I'm off. (d e e p s i g h).

Today is Ryan's Birthday. I love birthdays. This weekend is action packed with a party celebrating Ryan, Cirque du Soleil in Charlottesville, and the Cherry Blossom Festival for some sunshine and a day taking pictures. It will be sublime.

Right now I'm sitting lazily on the couch. Catching up on television that has me crying. Coming Home... yeah thanks Kristyn for getting me to watch that show. Grey's Anatomy? What can I say. I love Glee, Lady Gaga, Disney, Ballads, and Musicals. So of course I loved it. The scene with Mark on the stairs as he explores his fear and pain associated with Callie's injuries? Tears. Yes. Sometimes you just have to breathe. When your best friend is in the hospital, and you don't know what is going to happen, the only thing you can do is breathe. And sometimes you need someone else to remind you how. Just remembered so many things about when Matt was in the Hospital, and how intense that experience was. I remember how I was quiet, and composed up until I found out he was ok. Then I just lost it. It took me a long time to wrap my mind around it, and I remember feeling so alone. Sometimes I still think about it, and I am instantly brought back to the phone call explaining what was going on. Craziness. So, yes Grey's Anatomy: thanks for the sob fest.

Otherwise its a lazy Saturday. A welcomed change. It's been a really busy and intense three months. This week however, I am struggling with the Dr.'s orders. I can't explain it. My heart is all over the place about it. And it makes my stomach hurt thinking about it. It's been incredibly difficult.

But for now, we sit and enjoy snuggle time with Gracie, and maybe a nap...

Yes. A nap.

Then a Party.

For Ryan.

Because he was born today.

And that is awesome.