I Live...

The songs, the poems, the books…they are all right. Love is a battlefield. It’s a war. Sometimes we don’t know what we are fighting for. All I know is that I constantly have to make a conscious effort to continue the fight, despite the utter defeat I constantly feel. Last night I had the words of the poem, “The Race” running through my mind.

“’Quite, give up, you’re beaten,’ they shout at me and plead.” “Defeat, I lay there silently, a tear dropped from my eye. There’s no sense running anymore. Three strikes, I’m out…why try?”

Yet I know how the story ends. The boy continues to rise and eventually finishes the race winning, in that he rose each time he fell. Sometimes I feel a little bi-polar, like I’m on this never-ending roller coaster. Maybe that’s just life though. Maybe that’s life when men are involved. I hate that they have such control over my emotions…I hate it. I have worked so hard to be independent and I think that most of the time I am. At the same time, I don’t want to be so independent that it is difficult to ever be dependent. So what am I fighting for? I’m fighting for the those times when I am at the top of the hill, when I’m leading the race and I feel exhilarated and obliviously happy! My life has been nothing but rejection but… I have experienced moments of pure joy, when I felt accepted and wonderful.

Each of us is different in our commitment level and the way that we are interested in the opposite sex. Me…I feel much like Eponine in “Les Miserables.” She is my favorite character because I so identify with her. She is committed to the man she loves, even as she watches him fall in love with another. She loves him until the day she dies, in his arms. So, while I logically know that what Mr. Greg Behrendt is saying is true when he says, “He’s Just Not That into You,” I have a hard time letting go. It usually takes a good separation for me to move on. That or marriage on his part. Why do I bring this up? Because it’s the reason for my roller coaster. I’m not in love but when I set my heart on someone, I really do. I have wonderful moments with him where I can feel the adrenaline rush of the exciting ride and others where I have quickly reached the bottom of the hill and as a result my stomach, when it catches up to me, comes down hard, creating a pit that leaves a permanent mark.

I know I need to jump on a new roller coaster. I have tried. I am still trying. I’ve been a little bit negligent lately. I’m picking myself up to finish my race though. I got a forwarded email today that I thought was so funny and so true of me. It said:

“Women are angels, and when someone breaks our wings…We simply continue to fly……..on a broomstick…We are flexible like that.”

When I let my emotions be controlled by others and let them break my wings, I think I am a little like the broomstick driver. This has certainly been a broomstick week. Many people have taken a shot at my wings but that’s okay, I’ll keep flying. You can't ever pull me down!

On a happy note, it wasn’t until last Monday that I realized that a little piece of me had been missing for awhile. I started playing in a local symphony and while the group as a whole isn’t very good, it felt just like home to be playing my violin again. I love music. It’s how I best express myself. Thanks goodness for music in my life! I started this poem a few months ago. I am no writer…I just like to put down my thoughts. So, it may not follow a meter or be in any way correct, but it’s kind of how I feel about the subject.

‘Music is the outward expression of my inner soul

It brings me to life, comforts me and makes me whole.

When life is too hard, through music I find rest

That conquers my tempests and lifts my life to its best.’



Now, back to the project; back to looking for lucky #8. I don’t have any plans for this weekend yet…maybe I should pray for a miracle. Or maybe I should just try a little harder….try to forget the gentleman that keeps me accelerated at full speed through the hills and turns of life. Try to find another that will calm the ride a little and keep me smiling, even at the bottom of the hill.