cherrichan13

I want to deconstruct mountains and rebuild them in your hands. Tumbling rocks that could crush your skull in; that is what you are made of today.

More days than not, I feel as though I've lost my ability to write. So I'm sorry if this is the sappiest and/or most cliche thing you've ever read, but it helps me to put what I do write out there, even if dA is basically my diary right now.

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Someone once said that to come back to myself, I should write what I know.

I find that most of what I know is little things. I know what my mother's face looks like when she's disappointed in me. I know what strangers' faces look like when they're grateful to me. I know what it feels like to work with a family of coworkers you love desperately and what it feels like to leave them when your summer together is up.

What I find I don't know, however, is the stuff I have least expected. After a year, I still don't completely know how to deal with the empty side of my bed at night. I don't know how to help one of my best friends find her way. I don't know how to work with my new academic family.

As time creeps forward, I know that every minute I have been given is a gift, and every moment I have yet to experience is a promise. The troubles of the past are behind us and the troubles of the present are crevices in the road made to trip you up. Luckily for me, I am used to tripping and generally being a clumsy human being; I have learned to either land on my feet or deflect the worst possible injuries.

I know that life is not worth living without a smile and people to love. So cheers to a new academic year; I plan to hit the ground running.

I see you as more than just a dazzling figure, a movie star, a future before your time. I see you as a temper, a passion, a whirlwind. You are love and rage and deliberation all rolled into one. And, let's be honest, you are more than my inspiration. in some cases, you are my ambition. In other cases, you are my source of worry. In all cases, you are in my heart.

When I was four, long before you, one of my favorite toys was a plastic stethoscope. I held it to my preschool friend's heard every day (I still don't understand how that boy put up with me, the poor kid) just to hear his heart beating. Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, it said, and I knew love was real. He had a heart and it was beating and it was alive. We all have hearts; that's where love lives. How could it not be real?

It's hard for me to write about love. I can write and write and write, but I can't capture it. Maybe love is one of those illusive things to be admired from afar, but that's not what my stethoscope told me all those years ago.

I love you. You have infiltrated my heart, building a permanent residence complete with plumbing and tap water. Can it be as simple and pure as that?

Alone. It's such a terrible word. So vague, nondescript. A lone what? I always think of a lone wolf. That one wolf outside the pack. The lone wolves are always the toughest, the ones with the scars and battle wounds. They know how to fight and they know how to survive. But are they happy? That is the question. Wolves are such social animals. They have families and packs. They work with one another, the protect one another, they bond. They love. If the right wolves are together, their hearts are open.

I don't want you to be a lone wolf. I don't think you need any more scars than you have. Maybe we can make a pack together. We can work together and look out for each other. I already love you. It won't be hard. Please let me reach out to you.

Hey, guys.

Some of you may have noticed that I've been completely AWOL for the past month or so. I guess someone or something is trying to tell me something. I just haven't had the time to come online lately, and lately, it's been mattering less and less. I've been thinking this for a while now, but the prank the lit GMs pulled on everyone is the last straw. I mean, seriously? None of this dAlta crap was funny. Obviously we're not respected here. There are plenty of other good lit sites out there. And if I'm not wanted here on deviantART, I'm sure I can find somewhere else. So I guess it's time to leave.

Love you all.

It's over: news.deviantart.com/article/14…