I talked to a few of my friends about this concept. The concept of choosing to love someone. It's not making or forcing yourself to love that person but it's choosing to - let me explain.
When you enter a romantic relationship it's because you FEEL love. You feel the butterflies, you feel the air leaving your lungs every time you see them and you start hyperventilating, you get the sweaty palms. the accelerating heartbeat, the adrenaline running through your veins, I could go on. Point is, you FEEL it. The feeling is there, but what happens after a year or two maybe three? All those feelings I just listed are gone. You no longer get the sweaty palms, you stop hyperventilating and so forth. So, is it that you are out of love?
And that's where I believe choosing to love someone comes in. I don't believe the love is gone just because you don't feel the mushy stuff. I'm not a marriage counselor, but I have talked to a few of them and some pastors about this concept and they agree. I strongly believe this concept should be applied especially in marriages, and it's because it's not that I believe a lot of marriages don't work out.
Marriage scenario - You both begin to argue. He says some pretty hurtful things, you do too. Words are thrown around carelessly. "I hate you. You're an idiot. My father was right about you." So now tell me, Do you feel love for him or her now? I bet all the mushy stuff evaporated, huh? What's stopping you from leaving and cheating? I believe it's the choice of loving them. You don't feel love at that moment but it's the choice of loving them that keeps you faithful. Love matures and you won't always feel it. It's deeper than butterflies, and when things are difficult it's a choice.
My friend and I discussed that maybe this concept could only work in arguments, but then realized quickly that it's not so.
Beginning scenario - Feelings change. They do. "I don't know about you, but I'm just that type of person that I wake up and I'm certain about something, and the next day I wake up and I'm not so certain anymore." - is what a friend told me and I agree. I'm the same way. I know that in relationships there are going to be some days you wake up and say to yourself, "There's no other person I'd rather be with." and the next day wake up and think, "Do I really want to be with this person? Do I even love them or care?" What happens when you do wake up to that second feeling? You have two choices, you can leave and possibly risk the chance of FEELING different tomorrow, or you can choose to love that person that day regardless of how you're feeling. Hey could be the pizza from last night that's causing all these feelings to go haywire.
My situation- I'm talking to this amazing man. He's smart, sweet,
funny, witty, handsome, you know, the whole package. The only problem is
that he lives in a different state. There are days I feel those stupid
butterflies and times when he'll say something and I'm blushing, but
then there are days when I'm severely lonely and want to hug him or be in his arms, but it's not possible. Even though I feel lonely even
when those butterflies fly away I choose to still care. I choose to
still wait. It's a difficult situation but I know I have love for this guy and the disappearance of the "butterfly feeling" won't change what I know. And what I know is that at the moment there is no other man I would rather be talking to. What I know is that at the moment there is no other man I would rather show my love to. What I know is that I'd take a bullet for him....in the arm, or leg.
Now don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that feelings totally vanish, but maybe those feelings that had made you believe you were in love will. The feeling of your heart racing when you see them every time, or the 101 ways of saying hello racing through your mind at 100 mph will possibly leave. It's what I said before love matures. It's no longer those butterflies, and when you're in a tight situation in a relationship it turns into a choice.
Summary - Don't make decisions based on how you feel because it'll change. Base them off of what you know. Even when you don't feel it just choose to. Make sense?
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Thursday, July 5, 2012
The Trip
I sat swinging my feet on the chair. My head started to hang low as the swinging of my feet started to cease. I started fidgeting around with my fingers hoping it would keep me awake. My body was on the verge of shutting down. The long journey had taken up all the energy my eight-year-old body could handle. I heard the doors unlock, and the sleepiness that had been tormenting me vanished quickly. My eyes grew wide as I finally saw my dad walk through the doors.
I didn’t want to go to Texas. I’d seen the old western movies and thought about being in a desert with nothing but Hollywood’s stereotypes; the good ole cowboys, the cactus, and the dry bushes floating around. Texas, in my mind, was nothing compared to Maryland. Maryland had the scent of pine cones, and was dressed with the vibrant colors of the red robin. Yet, here I was packing my things to go to Texas. The thought of my dad being there crept in my mind and took me to a whole new world. I imagined the friends he’d made, probably cowboys, and hopefully the good kinds. I packed the last of my things in the car. I noticed the look on my mom’s face, a look of pure anguish. My siblings and I knew what she was thinking, but we all said nothing. The thought of Dad being in Texas worried us too. Although there were four of us in the back I wasn’t too crowded. I sat next to the window and didn’t let the sight of one tree pass me. It wasn’t long until the complaints started to overpower the songs on the radio. For hours we tortured my mother with the same phrases; “I’m hungry. My back hurts. Mom, it stinks. Mom, I’m thirsty. Get your elbow off of my stomach! No you’re stupid. Are we there yet?” The nagging finally started to hinder as nightfall settled in. We all fell asleep to the hum of the tires running smoothly against the road.
I awoke in time to see the sign “Welcome to Texas” I looked out the window and to my surprise didn’t see any deserts or cactus, at least not the ones I’d seen in the movies. My thought was disrupted by a bump on a road, and to my horror realized that my bladder was extremely tight. I could hear the “water” whooshing around in there. I begged my mom to find the nearest gas station, so when she pulled over in the middle of nowhere I was a little stunned. She grabbed a towel and stepped out, and demanded for me to step out as well. She held the towel in the air making it seem that no one would be able to see me and ordered me to go. I, of course, refused to use the restroom in broad day light, but her tone and her distress only put more pressure on me to do so. She said, “If you close your eyes no one will see you.” I closed my eyes and started to cry while I used the restroom.
Two days and twelve hours later we had finally reached our destination. The white building looked isolated. I looked around and saw men in jumpsuits playing basketball. I stared at them for a while. I wondered what it was like playing basketball in a cage. I followed my mother inside, and at the end of the mile long hallway sitting was a policeman behind a computer. His voice echoed down the hallway as he said, “Who? How many?" My mom replied “Jose Abrego. Five.” He lead us to the bench and told us to wait, and that it was going to be a while. We sat and waited for almost two hours. Even though I was tired I tried to keep my legs swinging and when that didn’t work I played with my hands. I finally heard the sound I had been waiting to hear. The sound of the doors opening. And through those doors came my dad wearing a, what seemed to be, white jumpsuit. He looked so tired and weak. I sat in front of the window as did he. I picked up the phone, and he picked up his. “Dad,” I said, “I miss you.”
I hadn’t seen my dad in four months. Ever since he had been sentenced to ten years in prison for attempted murder we saw less and less of him. It was nice coming all the way here just to see him. We laughed, which was unusual considering the circumstances. After talking for hours the guard came and said time was up. My heart sank. I had a mixture of emotions. I guess in the end I was just happy that I got to see him again. I saw my dad cry as he got up to leave. I found myself crying without wanting to. Before I could tell him I loved him he was gone. My mom lead the way out. We hopped into the car and with silence went back home.
I didn’t want to go to Texas. I’d seen the old western movies and thought about being in a desert with nothing but Hollywood’s stereotypes; the good ole cowboys, the cactus, and the dry bushes floating around. Texas, in my mind, was nothing compared to Maryland. Maryland had the scent of pine cones, and was dressed with the vibrant colors of the red robin. Yet, here I was packing my things to go to Texas. The thought of my dad being there crept in my mind and took me to a whole new world. I imagined the friends he’d made, probably cowboys, and hopefully the good kinds. I packed the last of my things in the car. I noticed the look on my mom’s face, a look of pure anguish. My siblings and I knew what she was thinking, but we all said nothing. The thought of Dad being in Texas worried us too. Although there were four of us in the back I wasn’t too crowded. I sat next to the window and didn’t let the sight of one tree pass me. It wasn’t long until the complaints started to overpower the songs on the radio. For hours we tortured my mother with the same phrases; “I’m hungry. My back hurts. Mom, it stinks. Mom, I’m thirsty. Get your elbow off of my stomach! No you’re stupid. Are we there yet?” The nagging finally started to hinder as nightfall settled in. We all fell asleep to the hum of the tires running smoothly against the road.
I awoke in time to see the sign “Welcome to Texas” I looked out the window and to my surprise didn’t see any deserts or cactus, at least not the ones I’d seen in the movies. My thought was disrupted by a bump on a road, and to my horror realized that my bladder was extremely tight. I could hear the “water” whooshing around in there. I begged my mom to find the nearest gas station, so when she pulled over in the middle of nowhere I was a little stunned. She grabbed a towel and stepped out, and demanded for me to step out as well. She held the towel in the air making it seem that no one would be able to see me and ordered me to go. I, of course, refused to use the restroom in broad day light, but her tone and her distress only put more pressure on me to do so. She said, “If you close your eyes no one will see you.” I closed my eyes and started to cry while I used the restroom.
Two days and twelve hours later we had finally reached our destination. The white building looked isolated. I looked around and saw men in jumpsuits playing basketball. I stared at them for a while. I wondered what it was like playing basketball in a cage. I followed my mother inside, and at the end of the mile long hallway sitting was a policeman behind a computer. His voice echoed down the hallway as he said, “Who? How many?" My mom replied “Jose Abrego. Five.” He lead us to the bench and told us to wait, and that it was going to be a while. We sat and waited for almost two hours. Even though I was tired I tried to keep my legs swinging and when that didn’t work I played with my hands. I finally heard the sound I had been waiting to hear. The sound of the doors opening. And through those doors came my dad wearing a, what seemed to be, white jumpsuit. He looked so tired and weak. I sat in front of the window as did he. I picked up the phone, and he picked up his. “Dad,” I said, “I miss you.”
I hadn’t seen my dad in four months. Ever since he had been sentenced to ten years in prison for attempted murder we saw less and less of him. It was nice coming all the way here just to see him. We laughed, which was unusual considering the circumstances. After talking for hours the guard came and said time was up. My heart sank. I had a mixture of emotions. I guess in the end I was just happy that I got to see him again. I saw my dad cry as he got up to leave. I found myself crying without wanting to. Before I could tell him I loved him he was gone. My mom lead the way out. We hopped into the car and with silence went back home.
The Waltz
He stands mightily
with elegance
Arms around
my waist in complete arrogance
His hand I
must take
This smile I
must fake
My eyes
wander the room
And I have resurrected
from the tomb
Of you I've caught sight
You've been
observing me all night
Your eyes
plead a single dance
But I refuse
to take the chance
The
suspense you cannot stand
You
approach me gently grabbing my hand
And steal
me away from my lover
The glaring eyes we cannot cover
We make our
way to the floor
We
gracefully begin to soar
The music
begins to play
In your
arms is where I want to stay
This night
has to end
There is no
need to pretend
Your eyes
beg me to stay
Come now,
we have to part ways
Dawn breaks
the rooster calls
With your
touch you tore down the walls
The Waltz,
the purity of its art
Is how you
captured my heart
Everything has
a start
But now we
must grow apart.
- Ana
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