Keira-anne.com

It never really made sense to her. Her world was never her own and never seemed to be within her control. To plan or to predict or to prohesy always equated to an impossibility.

She remembered the shoes she wore that day. Beige corduroy pants wrapped around her slender legs. She knew this for sure because they were her favourite. A red hooded sweater with the word “love” scribed on the inside lining. Not prepared.

Original Photo: Andi♥ on Flickr

The door opened and her feet shuffled inside. A new face sat on the couch, looked up and drop-jawed. Literally. There was blushing and flustering and a mumbling of words. Nope, I can’t do this.

They danced. For months and for years. He took the lead, she followed. She followed reluctantly, then followed willingly. Tender lips bid good-bye.

Even in such retrospect, every detail is glaringly clear. That day was completely unlike this day. There were no clouds in the sky; there were no clouds in her sky. Her disposition was ripe with self-import. During the 45-minute drive, a handful of Rilo Kiley tracks shuffled around in the stereo and reverberated through the speakers. Warmth and sea air sank in through the windshield, filling the car. She looked beautiful. She knew she looked beautiful.

Photo: Rapsak on Flickr

The brakes slowed the car to a stop. She reversed the turn of the key and shut the engine off. Under her feet, countless rocks and pebbles crunched and groaned with each step. As she stood before the door, her knuckles raised to make contact with the hardwood but there was hesitance. The brief moment passed until skin met wood. He was already waiting on the other side of the door; her hand barely left the door before it opened.

Blissful smiles.

It had been far too long.

The sun was preparing to say its final goodbyes for the day as he and she made their way into the forest. He held her hand through the mud. They walked parallel and in sync with the train tracks that became their path. In the distance, the tracks veered left into the very trees that the sun was settling into. Before long, civilization had dawned upon them but the streets were quiet. Shops were shut, families were in their homes and a crisp feeling slipped into the air. It didn’t take long for them to realize that home was where they should be too.

Turning around, they began the trek back to a place of warm fires, cozy blankets, cold beer, conversation, soft pillows and laughter. By this time, the sky’s canvas had been painted midnight blue to allow the stars to wink and twinkle. One foot in front of the other, they were almost there. She stopped in her place and looked at him. He already knew what she was about to think before the thought danced into her mind. Her glance moved from his face to the sky. The trees reached up beyond where they stood, stretching towards the luminance.

Photo: Phil Peck on Flickr

The epiphany hit her hard and fast: “This is what it’s all about…this is all that matters.”

That moment became frozen in her time. Years later, it is still all that matters.

Original Photo: goldbeere on Flickr

Days like today prove to me that I am not invincible.

Days like today find no comfort.

I walked home at lunch to take the dogs outside. The tears I fought so hard to blink back the entire way started to fall the minute that I opened the door. There is something about a canine’s love that is entirely unconditional and which radiates on some supernatural level. However, there are still hours left in the day so I had no choice but to “suck it up” and dry my eyes. Four o’clock will not come soon enough, and all I crave is hot tea and a warm blanket. The irony in that is that those simple comforts only serve as examples of how days like today ask me that for all the care for others I pour out, who is there to care for me at the end of the day?

“I’ll check the weather wherever you are because I want to know if you can see the stars tonight.

It might be my only right.”

Photo courtesy of Norby on Flickr

Isn’t it weird?
Isn’t it strange?
Even though we’re just two strangers on this runaway train.
We’re both trying to find a place in the sun.
We’ve lived in the shadows, but doesn’t everyone?
Isn’t it strange how we all feel a little bit weird sometimes?
Isn’t it hard…standing in the rain?
You’re on the verge of going crazy and your heart’s in pain.
No one can hear though you’re screaming so loud.
You feel all alone in a faceless crowd.
Isn’t it strange how we all get a little bit weird sometimes?
Sitting on the side waiting for a sign, hoping that my luck will change.
Reaching for a hand that can understand, someone who feels the same.
When you live in a cookie cutter world being different is a sin.
So you don’t stand out, and you don’t fit in…weird.

Sometimes things get worse before they get better. I’m having one of those incredibly strange evenings where I have absolutely no idea what is wrong with me. All I know is what I am feeling. Perhaps it was the whiskey on the ferry ride over. Maybe I’m just too tired. Maybe it’s just stress. As my brother’s truck left Parksville and turned onto the highway, he and his girlfriend sat in the front and talked about cars while listening to music.

I sat in the backseat of the truck, stared out the rear window and sobbed the entire way home.

Lyrics written by I.H., J.T.H. and Z.H.