Freckled Life

I kiss your eyes and I hold you in my heart. 

January 31, 2012
 This month- in review. January was a big ole heartache. I had to say goodbye to three of my favorite people. Not forever, but for longer than I’d like. Car trouble all month long. It now takes three tries (starting and restarting) to get my car up the hill at the bottom of the driveway. Friends change. People are unfriendly. Love is possibly, probably, actually a thing. (Also, I’ve finally pegged why I like Summer Finn- I trust her. If there is one person I believe love for, it’s that girl. The only girl in the world who wasn’t looking for it- found it. I trust that.) I am watching the level of transmission fluid in my car like a hawk. I stopped hating church, but kind of stopped going. I still love Jesus. God is so patient with me. On any given day, I feel like I’m caught in a tug-of-war between the coasts, a piece of meat snagged on the Appalachians while the Atlantic and Pacific go at it. I’ll probably write a poem about that, because that is what I do now. I’m going to attempt to tack one of these longer posts to the end of every month so I can better keep track of myself.

January 31, 2012

This month- in review. January was a big ole heartache. I had to say goodbye to three of my favorite people. Not forever, but for longer than I’d like. Car trouble all month long. It now takes three tries (starting and restarting) to get my car up the hill at the bottom of the driveway. Friends change. People are unfriendly. Love is possibly, probably, actually a thing. (Also, I’ve finally pegged why I like Summer Finn- I trust her. If there is one person I believe love for, it’s that girl. The only girl in the world who wasn’t looking for it- found it. I trust that.) I am watching the level of transmission fluid in my car like a hawk. I stopped hating church, but kind of stopped going. I still love Jesus. God is so patient with me. On any given day, I feel like I’m caught in a tug-of-war between the coasts, a piece of meat snagged on the Appalachians while the Atlantic and Pacific go at it. I’ll probably write a poem about that, because that is what I do now. I’m going to attempt to tack one of these longer posts to the end of every month so I can better keep track of myself.

miss this.

miss this.

This is gorgeous. 

My head is swimming with poetry. I must say, I’m absolutely mad about this semester. I’m getting all giddy just doing my homework. Frightening, yet outstanding.