Love

Love (noun): a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person. 

Love. So much meaning in such a small, four letter word.

You can find quotes about it all over the internet, romance books are written about it, people sing about it.

But what is it?

"A profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person."

Yes, that's very true, but it's so much more than that.

Love isn't just something you feel, it's a way that you act, a way that you live.

Love is watching your younger siblings grow up and wondering just what they're going to be one day.

Love is holding your best friend's baby sister, and realizing how much you can love a creature that isn't even your own.

Love is naming people as your brothers or sisters when you already have too many, but you just love them so much it's impossible to see them as anything else.

Love is sacrificing your free time to be with a father who is schizophrenic and trusts you more than anyone else.

Love is giving your last twenty bucks to a poor woman with three kids that she can barely afford to feed.

Love is volunteering at a daycare and falling completely in love with one baby boy, and feeling your heart break because his mother's so poor she can hardly afford to feed him.

Love is being eighteen-years-old with a baby-mama that doesn't want you around and feeling your heart shatter because of that.

Love is wishing you could hold said eighteen-year-old because you can only imagine how bad they must be hurting.

Love is simply being there for someone, listening to what they have to say, holding them as they cry, and wiping away their tears. 

Love is so much more than a four letter word.

Love is an action, a way to live.

Love everyone, especially your enemies.

Remember:

"Love is patient, love is kind. Love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong doing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends." 

-- 1 Corinthians 13: 4-8a.

I'd Hate To Be You

I'd hate to be you when you wake up and realize just how far away I've run.
I may be a believer in second chances, even third ones, but I'm not giving you anymore babe.
You've wasted them, and you've wasted my time.
I'm so done with you.
I'm done wishing that you were still mine, if you were ever mine.
You...were a waste of time.
I don't wish away my memories, nor do I think I'll ever stop loving you.
But...you were still a waste of time.
You're also a jerk, just so you're aware.
I'm furious with you, to be honest.
You haven't spoken to me in a month, and then you suddenly need my help.
Oh, and you decide to tell me that you were in a car wreck, and that you were hurt.
WHAT. THE. HELL.
Did you call because you knew I was the one person in your life who would be willing to go around the universe and back to help you?
Did you tell me about the wreck because you knew I'd want to know and that I'd flip the fuck out?
Or did you really call because there was a time when we were best friends, and you know just how much I care?
My best guess is that you called because know I'd do anything for you.
Well, fuck that.
I can't be that girl you call just because you need something.
Best friends? Sure, we can be friends.
But only after you get your priorities straight.
My heart is in the right place for once.
Where's yours?
Yeah, that's what I thought.
I'll still be there you for you, but I'll be miles away.
I'd hate to be you when you realize what you've lost.

Strength

I've never really thought about strength before, or whether I was strong.
I guess I've always assumed that I'm not.
However, I had a lovely argument with Megan, Sammi, and Bernard the other night after finding out some disturbing news.
Two people, that I trusted to at least respect my privacy, didn't.
I found out that they read my journal, something so personal that even Sammi hasn't read it.
My deepest, darkest secrets are in that little book, and now people know them.
I was also informed that they took pictures of some of the pages, and actually sent them out to people.
Needless to say, that HURT.
I felt like I'd been emotionally and mentally molested.
I'd hit my knees, and didn't want to get back up.
Most of you reading this got a facebook message about it, explaining that I may not act like myself for a while.  Bernard was the first to respond, and upon filling him in, I realized he was mad. Madder than I was.
I'm not the sort of person to let people fight my battles, nor will I let them "kill" those responsible.
Sammi and Megan got equally pissed, I'm lucky that I didn't have company that night. Company that came with baseball bats and some serious anger.
Anyway, Bernard has what I like to call "Bernard's Dictionary of Definitions to Prove Mareena Wrong", and he uses it against me all the freakin' time.
I made the mistake of telling him that I'm not a strong a person, so, naturally, he pulls one of those definitions out of his "mind catalog", and starts contradicting me.
This is what I got: "Courage takes strength. In fact, it's in the definition. Courage is the strength to overcome and obstacle, whether it be fear, social stigmas, or peer pressures."
Megan and Sammi put in their two cents, basically agreeing with Bernard, just in longer paragraphs.
I finally broke down and agreed, especially after Sammi pointed out that I think like an artist, and that I have a cow when someone accuses me of being a coward.
So, when I woke up this morning, I was feeling very inquisitive.
The first question I asked myself was: How am I strong?
I've been thinking about it all day, on and off between my other questions.
My answer?
I always get back up when I fall down.
I fight for the things that are worth fighting for, but have the strength to let go of the things that aren't.
When I'm at my most vulnerable is actually when I'm at my strongest.
I hate being afraid, and face my fears because they piss me off.
I told someone how I feel about them, even though they probably won't have the same feelings for me.
But the biggest reason is this: I always get back up when someone knocks me down.
Yeah, my privacy was invaded, and some of my secrets are out for the world to see.
But you know what?
To hell with it, it doesn't even matter.
Why?
Because I'm already standing back up.

Do You Even Fuckin' Have A Clue?

Do you even fuckin' have a clue?
Yes? Maybe? No?
Well, here's a little view inside my head.
I have a huge crush on my best guy friend.
Yes, it's shocking, I know.
A couple days ago, I told him that he'll always have a little piece of my heart.
His response? "And the same goes for you."
At first, I wasn't sure if he was saying that to what I stated previously, or something else. Our conversation can be a bit confusing sometimes. It turns out that he was saying that in response, so I guess I have a little piece of his heart too.
He's always surprising me too. I went to see him that same day (before any of that was said of course), and he seemed genuinely pleased to see me, almost like he missed me or something.
THEN, later on, he complimented me. It threw me for a loop, and I turned a lovely cherry red color. I'm sure it was very attractive...or at least that's what Sarah tells me.
It's been close to six months since someone's made me smile like he did.
It doesn't really help that my emotions concerning him have always been fuzzy, the lines always a little blurry.
I'm not sure about him, and it's always been like that. I've let myself get close to him, and I don't usually let myself get very close to anyone of the male gender. So, naturally, my first instinct is to push him away.
That never happens.
Instead, I find myself being drawn towards him, almost like an invisible line is pulling me closer to him.
I can even forget about Jacob whenever he's around, which something that even Sammi has trouble accomplishing.
But throughout all these beautiful thoughts, I still don't know how I feel about him.
There's always going to be a part me that likes him, I know that. He does have a piece of my heart after all.
Even so, I still tell people no when they ask me if I like him.
But.. I don't know if I like him or not. And I don't like lying.
Not knowing how I feel is driving me up the wall.
He's the one boy that I shouldn't find confusing, so naturally, he's the one that confuses me the most.
Oh the irony.
He's a constant in my life, someone that is always there for me when I need him.
He truly is my best friend.
He's my sunshine.
I wish that I wasn't afraid to talk to him about these things, I wish that I wasn't afraid of hitting the "Publish Post" button when I finish typing this.
Plus, there's the inevitable physical reactions.
Whenever he smiles at me, whether it's because of something I've said or done, my stomach turns itself inside out, my heart does flips. My heartbeat speeds up, I can't think straight, and I can't help but smile back.
I don't often desire any physical contact that's more than a hug, but, for some reason, you make me crave contact with you.
I'll admit that that's why I like to hug you...well, that and you give amazing hugs.
I don't just crave contact though...I crave YOU.
It's almost ridiculous to be perfectly honest.
You make me want all the little things...a hug here, a smile there.
Any attempt to explain what those mean to me could take years, so I won't do that.
Remember when I kissed you one top of your head the other night? I swear that I felt like electricity was coursing through my body, and that's absolutely insane.
You make me feel things...things that I never expected to feel towards you.
You make me feel like jell-o.
And the tongue thing...ugh.
That is so not cool.
I don't think you realize that you do it, but you do. And you do it often.
As much as I wish it weren't true.. I think I'm falling for you.
It's not wise, and I don't know if anything good will come out of this.
I ask if you even fuckin' have a clue, and you might.
You seem to know what I'm thinking before I can even tell you.
But, I have to ask anyway, just because I'm absolutely crazy.
Do you even fuckin' have a clue?