Can you keep the secret of you, me, him?

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What would happen if I told you something kind of personal?

What would happen if I told you that being around you is like putting on my old favorite sweater? I feel secure and warm but it only lasts until you leave. You seem like you are doing really well for yourself these days, and I am so happy for you. But I can’t help but wonder things. I mean I catch myself talking about you every now and then and it doesn’t make sense because I doubt you do the same.

I tried to give him a chance but you have ruined my tolerance for anything less than what I deserve. I know now more than ever that you treated me really great. You respected me and I never knew how rare that behavior was until he came along. Tall and smooth with words, I made myself give him a chance. As it turned out I literally couldn’t stand being with him because he was nothing like you. He talked about himself and treated my passions like hobbies. You, well you encouraged me in the things I love. I couldn’t joke around with him. For some reason I had walls up every time he was with me. Letting him in didn’t seem right, he didn’t earn that or deserve it. When it came to you, I felt like we could laugh over the dumbest stuff and still find time to get serious. Being myself around you wasn’t a struggle, I never felt like I needed to question your motives. I looked forward to breaking down those walls with you. It ended before we got very far. He only commented on my physical appearance, which you didn’t do much of, but I realized it didn’t matter because I hated compliments from him, I didn’t trust him like I trusted you. He thought I was a done deal for him but he still acted insecure about everything. You, you were confident in whatever it was we had. You never acted insecure and yet somehow you seemed shocked when I said I “liked you, liked you”. It was the cutest thing. I felt like I won that night. I won something I never expected. That made it that much sweeter.

Time passes and people move on. I suppose this is just my way of doing that. Or deciding how to do that. I’m not hung up but obviously I haven’t fully let go. I’m just afraid to fall either way. Can you keep the secret of you, me, him?

Who Are You?

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Have you ever looked into the unknown and swore you saw the past?

Were your eyes screaming “Déjà vu,” as the world ranked you in last?

Your knees, as did mine, did they bruise from being knocked down once more after the last time?

Let’s check this: How is your voice?

Lost from screaming or simply fading into everyone else’s life noise?

Did you write a battle cry or settle to live a mediocre life just in time to die?

What happened to your ideals?

Were you holding them in open, unsure hands when paid a visit from the one who steals?

Did you sell your dreams to the highest bidder?

Or instead did you sit back idly and let your unfinished work fictionally “simmer”?

Could you pick yourself up and find your inner fire?

Can I dare you to put one more match on your heart’s desire?

Would you say it is possible?

Could the unimaginable become attainable?

Really though, could myth meet mankind and thrive under the hand of the Divine?

Could you reach higher and climb the beanstalk to slay the liar?

Time is precious and warriors are few.

I’d risk my life for the good, but can I count on you?

Dragging one along to their own destiny isn’t an option in this life.

I’m sorry but I cannot always shield you from pain, anguish and strife.

With my hand over my heart I will promise you this:

When you finally connect to the conqueror within, there will be guaranteed a reclaiming wind.

Get high, stand on a box if that helps you.

Can’t you see there is so much in the atmosphere for us to do?

The impossible is bating us.

We cannot afford to lose our focus.

Are you in? Or should I count you out?

Begging to be immortal isn’t what each day is about.

 

War Paint Wisdom

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This.
This right here is where it all stops.
This is my domain and you’re entrance is denied with spears and torches.
I’m drawing the line in the sand. But not an ordinary, plain , yes; cowardly line.
No.
I’ll trace the segment and dowse it in lighter fluid and set it ablaze.
This is MY house. I stain my hands with war paint and go to work. Two lines below my eyes, I’m fearless.
One line across my forehead, come on.
One last line down the Prime Meridian of my face,
I dare you to challenge me.
You thought I would be scared didn’t you? Your deceitfulness is simply a mask covered in plastic, store-bought stones meant to distract from your true spirit. You try to pass yourself off as powerful but your cloak is made of the Broken Ones. You rejoice when the strong fall and the corrupt rise.
Your reign of confusion ends now.
COME CLOSER.
You see, I’m not alone in this. There is One inside of me that will crush you and throw you into your own disaster. I’m stronger than you think.
I tie back my hair and begin to hum my victory song as the firewood crackles in the darkness. I am ready for whatever you have planned.
I lace up my shoes and take hold of my weapon,
Are you sure you still want to mess with me?

So That

I’m just a little off but that turns your heart on. I dance to my own beat and you begin to follow. Love is to be sought after with reckless abandon but it shouldn’t be taken lightly. For “once” let me be the “upon a time” and I swear you’ll be my “happy ever after”. Come closer so that my heartache is forced farther. Take my hand so I can finally fall…
Hold me to help me let go. Whisper your dreams and I will shout your talents to the world. Look me in the eye so that I can’t even choose to look down. Kiss me one more time so that I’ll know your my last and only. Dance with me so that fighting is easily ended. Move with me so settling down will be a long awaited joy. Chase the stars with me so that we can see our futures through the One who created the stars. Respect me so that Ill learn my true worth through confidence and security. Let me fall asleep I your arms so that I can wake up with the greatest view. Calm me to make me outgoing. Quietly compromise your quirks with me so that we’ll be able to handle each others oddities. Love me for who I am so that I can love who you are becoming even more.
Play music, it’ll drown out the silence of the lonely. Organize your heart so that Im not your only love, leave room for family. Fall to your knees in desperation to the creator so that I can see how truly strong you are.
Marry me so that Ill never forget how lucky I am.

Joel

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I saw him standing in the back of the room.
He was wearing sunglasses…inside. What a tool. I laughed and took out my pen and wrote, “Too cool for school” one a blank sheet of paper. I liked his confidence.
The next day he didn’t disappoint.
He cranked the music and danced like no one was watching. I followed his example and we all danced our hearts out. As soon as the music stopped I found my pen and added, “shamelessly outgoing” to the previously blank page. His personality stood out to me.
Day after day I realized that I was looking for him. I’d spot him and try to figure him out from afar.
His style gave me hope. A dark blue, short sleeved button-up and maroon shorts set the base for his outfit that Tuesday. He wore Sperry’s and yes, Ray Bans found their home on top of his head. I rummaged through my bag for my notebook and added, “humble style” to this growing list. He never flaunted his looks or style but they were definitely a strong suit for him. He was just…different.
I tried to put my finger on what it was that made him so different but that wasn’t an easy task.
I began to think about it…
He seemed to live in a glass house by choice. His life was an open book simply waiting for a reader.
(And I’m always up for a good read.)
I needed to duck out of the building for a second and went for the door. I wanted to make sure that I was using the correct exit so I asked someone nearby. This person’s response was interrupted with a cheeky, “No” by this guy whose story I’d placed a book mark in. I laughed and pretended to shake off the sarcasm. Funny. I took out my notebook as I walked away and wrote down, “Class clown,” I need laughter in my life.
Time passed and I noticed that Joel had taught me a lot. His personality spoke even louder than his
words. He was fun to be around and nothing bothered him. He showed me what I needed to see and he gave me hope. From this list I had been making I could clearly see the little characteristics that meant something to me. Sure he had all of the strong and moral characteristics I have always looked for but he made me see that there was another level and that he had mastered it. Talking to him made me feel significant in some way, it was as if my time was more valuable to him than it was to me. It was like he looked forward to it. He made me feel special and for that I’ll always be in his debt. That Monday through Friday held some many memories that will never fade.
It is hard to sum up his entirety in words but I know this about him, Joel was a wonderful example of a thriving extrovert. He radiated a confidence that didn’t praise itself. He practiced a life of fun and carefree happiness and didn’t even entertain the judgmental questions of those who didn’t understand him. Joel put his heart on his sleeve and he held it there by the wet tears of laughter that filled his days.
In such a short time Joel taught me to keep my eyes open for what I want in life and in a man.
Thank you Joel, you’ve taught me a timeless lesson.

You taught me that even the little things matter.

Ocean’s Daughter: Part I

Part I of my series "Ocean's Daughter". If it seems to go over well I will continue to post the remaining segments of the saga in chronological order. Send me your feedback in the comments section! Thanks– xxAris
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The ocean calls her name. It whispers her dreams and tells her of the future. The ocean beckons her. The tide runs up her feet like a dancing child but she knows she must remain on the shore. Quickly she turns away and finds safety behind the iron gate.

The sun rises.

She awakens and finds herself once again walking along the fine line between land and sea. The childlike tides begin to demand her return. The rip tides crash against her ankles and pull her unwilling body into its manipulative waters. She fights the tides and curses them as she trudges back to shore.

They can’t have her.

The day has gone as quickly as it came. The color of the night sky reminds her of the midnight ocean and she cannot fight the desire to return. She dons her figure necklace. The woman made of silver shines but her blue fishtail steals the spotlight. Curiosity and homesickness win the war of emotions. She jumps from her balcony and swings open the iron gate. Her feet are thirsty for the ocean. That overwhelming thirst is quenched when she stops ankle-deep in the moving waters.

The ocean calls her, “Return, return…”

She reaches up and hides her figure necklace in a fist and cries, “You can’t have me!” Playing back the memories she tries to remind herself why she left.

The controlled yet mischievous tides turn into furious waves. The waters rise above her like a massive wall and come flying in to retrieve their daughter once more.

She sings.

Other than swimming that is all she has ever known. Her song is authoritative and fierce. Raising her arms, she makes the hounding song spread. She holds her arms in front of her body as she pushes the coming wave back.

Power.
She hadn’t felt that in a while….

The Curious Case of Hospitals

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Hospitals are the only place on earth where the cries of a newly widowed woman sing harmony to the crying of a newborn. It truly twists my mind that one place can inhabit some many different circumstances. There is a man who is about to witness the birth of his first child. The car comes to an abrupt stop as he pulls up near the main door of the hospital. There is no time to waste, today is all about miracles. The doors seem as though they are miles away so he reprises his role All-State track star. He leans forward and runs to the finish. As he picks up speed he wipes warm tears from his eyes as he quickly spots a nurse. He politely yet frantically asks a nurse, "Which room is my wife, Nina Mirk in?" She smiles and calls out, "Room 207!" He smiles brightly with a sincere, "Thank you," as he takes off. He runs past the chairs in the hallway and looks for the room his wife is in. He will never forget today.
A brisk breeze moves her hair and causes her to look up. Some man is running down the hall. She wanted to thank the man for shaking her out of her daze by rushing past her. She couldn't remember how long ago she sat in that seat and started staring into space. Emmett was her everything. He loved her, gave her the gift of two handsome sons and he remained faithful to her for forty-eight years. This mass on his lung wasn't supposed to take him. Emmett promised to fight it and stay around but even he couldn't fight his own body. She was stunned. Emmett was asleep and the machines that gave him life started to beep. She woke up out of a nap and called for the doctor. Soon enough nurses filled the room and she was asked to step into the hallway to make room for more nurses. She stepped outside and lost all sense of pride. Tears fell and her chest tightened as she grasped for air. She will never forget today.
"My gorgeous son, Leo," he began, "I'm your daddy." Tears leaked out once more as he brought this wonderful creation to his chest. He never loved Nina or life more than in this moment.
"Mrs. Landers, I'm so sorry," began the doctor. She didn't need to hear anymore she just nodded and turned off her mind. Her body felt light like a paper doll. She became dizzy so with every ounce of strength she had she put her head against the wall. Tears cascaded down her aged and once happy face. "Emmett, I love you," she sobbed. She never felt more pain in her whole life than she felt in this moment.
Hospitals are a curious place. One can experience so many emotions and realities all within the confines of a few walls. Emmett went on to be with Jesus and Leo went on to be the light of his parents' lives.
That day in the hospital is celebrated every year in Leo's house.
That day in the hospital is always mourned in the Landers home.

Tonight, I am Young…

So often when I write I feel this overwhelmingly-over the top- insane desire to voice my maturity. You see, I don’t like telling my age because I feel like the number of my years doesn’t match the number of my soul. But tonight, well, tonight I am young…

The music starts, we’ve all heard this tune before. This melody alone closes one door and opens another. I feel that sense of change and I jump into the craziness that is my future just as I jumped into a twirling jump rope as a girl; careless and daring. I smile but it doesn’t quite hit me yet. This is it. After four years we are moving on. He will set down his diploma to grab the controls of a fighter jet. She frames her diploma so that when she uses a scalpel it isn’t considered a crime. Me on the other hand…I graze my hand over this coveted paper as if to wipe my slate clean. With my past accomplishments I wipe away my childish fears and my insecure questioning so that moving on is that much easier.

I catch his eye more than once and my heart hurts that sometimes things happen that pull people apart. But with this happening I’ve learned something: pick up on the subtle hints, they tell you all about a person. She talks louder than anyone but I know her heart is good. We never talked much due to my bystander mentality but I wish her the best. My, this is harder than I thought.

Daily I went to the designated buildings and sat through classes. Some days were an absolute party but most days I said, “I can’t wait to get out of here,” and I carried that belief to the end. I wanted to get out, but now I see that I will miss more than I had originally calculated. In these past four years, I was allowed to be young. I lived a slightly spontaneous, mildly manic life and that is one thing you won’t see in my notebook of regrets. Tonight I told myself to write “Fin” and turn the page. Tonight I am young…

This white page is daunting. I could do so many things but for now, I will write simply this:

The world never stops, do something that changes this. Love furiously, listen intently and live intentionally.

I will have my whole life to show off my love for the future but for right now, in this moment, I will lay down in my youth and sleep knowing that I will forever be moving forward and never return backward.

Tonight, I am frozen in time. Years from now this outfit and hair style will be nothing more than a memory in picture form. I will show my children and they will marvel at my youth, for they will have never known this version of me. I will breathe in the cold oxygen of what tomorrow will hold but for now I will choose to hold my breath and enjoy this night. I will hold the hands of time still and fight the oncoming trucks that blind me with their headlights of possibility. I will stomp my rising platform down and I will tell the world to stay awake for a little while longer. Tonight, I am young. I will run one last time into that uneven forest of adolescence and I will set off fireworks, everyone will know I am here. I will jump into the fountain and splash around in what Ponce de Leon died seeking. For in this moment I am drenched in the youth he hunted. I will dance without music because my heart will replay my favorite memories and that is the sweetest music. I will find my Leonardo and tell him to travel the world with me. Tears will fall only because of the beauty my eyes witness. Laughter will be the fuel that moves my legs toward my goals. There will be a lot of winking in my last rampage of remembering, sarcasm and tomfoolery never go out of style. I will pull that chair out from under father time and I will soak my obstacles’ hands in warm water as they sleep. I’ll try to rip a table cloth off of a table like the magicians. I will start to count the stars in the sky, and then I’ll restart and restart. I will sing louder than the birds, after all, I have thumbs so I am superior. I will grab my paintbrush and my cherry red paint…I will paint the town red. I’ll skip down the avenue of adventure and I’ll giggle until morning comes.

Tonight,

I

am

YOUNG.

 

 

–Aris Rielle Angle

The Ones Living Through Me

At this time in my life I feel the weight of everyone’s expectations. She hopes I will pursue that passion of mine because she chose to give that up for herself and now she doesn’t want to see me make the same choice. She looks at me as a younger version of herself, I don’t want to let her down. He looks at me and sees a Revolutionist. He points out my loyalty to my morals and beliefs and urges me to be the advocate of man. I am not qualified to be that person but I want to try so that he isn’t disappointed in me. That woman over there, she was an educator of mine. She wants me to enter her field. She tells me that I am talented and that I should pursue the sciences, she gets so proud when I perform well. I do not want her to think I am settling. Behind that curtain and through the hall stands a man who believes in me. He talks about me to others and I am highly honored by that but at the same time that makes me nervous. He holds me to a high standard. What if I fail his test and I go from having his approval to being a crumpled piece of paper in the trash can of his memories? What if my choice leaves a bitter end to my name? Look down, that young boy looks at me like I’m a superstar. He is so young, he believes I can do anything. Oh how I want to believe his childhood innocence. She thinks I am on the verge of making my dreams come true. She doesn’t know this but every time she talks to me about my daydream believer’s goal I collapse a little more inside. What if I never make it there? Will I become a wasted talent in the things I enjoy? Not that I hold myself to the highest standard. Hell, I know my shortcomings more than anyone else, but what if I become another face in the crowd when I was born to shine on a platform? He wants me to write, and write and write. I think he wanted to be a writer but he gave up on it. I want him to see success, if it is through me then so be it. I’m carrying her ideas of who I am, I dragging his dreams for me and somehow I find myself stumbling from the weight of it all. I have to carry every possible version of my future to the finish line and make them all proud. I can’t stand to sell myself short.

I’m standing at the genesis of a road that branches into one hundred paths, now I must discover how I can walk them all.

Splash

Coming out of nothing it finds me. A splash. It surprises me.

Joy, pure joy is like a splash.

I sit and read your book, splash. I’m drenched.

My friends and I jump into the unknown with crossed fingers and somehow we land in a puddle. Joy must have accumulated here.

I’d say joy is like rain but I like to think that joy does not come in small drops. Although you could argue that joy is a constant thing that we simply choose to ignore at times like an ignored rain storm but I believe that joy comes in large, unannounced amounts all of the time.

As I admire the world I am joyful. We have so much to live for, why we forget that I’ll never understand. I find joy in the way those people carry on and I find joy in the picture that love paints. Most of all I find joy in the simple act of breathing. You could argue this but I do not think you would be in a chipper mood if you did not have oxygen, friend.

Next time you feel gloomy find where the splash is. Seek it out, it is there. When life gives you lemons, do not water them down. Instead eat them, that sour taste may spur you to get up and receive your joy! You are worth more than you know and that joy is ready to surprise you.