Language of the Eyes

 

  Eye smirks. Those that you make across a room between two souls and no one else. They can mean so much yet so little. An inside joke. A simple acknowledgment at mutual existence. For us right here, it feels reminiscent of “I’m not sure what we’re doing, but at least we’re doing something.”

 

 Somehow, we came to be in this together – throwing hands up and laughing off our clueless mistakes. It’s uncertain, it’s craziness, and it’s the future. It’s staring us down, threatening to haunt us with the slightest misstep or misfortune. It all waits for us. Words are not fitting for this moment. It’s meager chicken scratch to try to describe this second in time. Instead, we smirk with our eyes.

 

 This is the breath. That breath before the heavens flood down, the moon beckons the tides to rise, and you find yourself past your neck where you’ve never been before. It’ll happen fast. One moment; dry land beneath you. The next; you’re gone. For now, we have our eyes.

 

 Since the dawn of times, people have called the eyes the windows to the soul and I suppose that’s true. I wont rant about cliches, because I think too many of them hold truth; for eye contact can make or break stone. It’s all a matter of intent and reception. I intend you to see excitement, terror, and adventure. The odd thing is, I have no control over what you receive.

 

 So tell me if this makes sense. Tell me if you are reading this clearly – all of our shared looks across rooms and for brief moments. Tell me what you see. All I know is what I’m putting out, not what is coming in. So tell me. Tell me about the look in my eyes for mirrors don’t convey true life.
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Instead of Falling in Love // Single Summers

 

 I can’t decide if listening to Taylor Swift may help this. If settling down with tea, popcorn, and my trustedjournal while blaring songs that are about that lil’ ol’ topic called love will be a cure. See, I have “Trouble” and “I Would Walk 500 Miles” in my spotify playlist right next to the tunes of Ingrid and Regina. They hum to me with dedication and admiration. One part Taylor Swift’s girl perspective – one part males crooning about their beaut’. This is probably not the best recipe for a single girl’s summer playlist.

 

 It seems that summer amplifies my own desire for romance.
 Can you blame me?

 

 My friends are off on dates at every turn. Even more friends are giddily saying, “we’re just best friends” in the midst of texts, talks, walks, letters, and eyes all telling a different story. The summer romcoms beckon and call. Camps are the perfect place for everyone to find a summer fling the Christian way which involves facebooking post camp until school rolls around. The air is sickly sweet with the smell of weddings, engagements, and googly eyed couples all making me smile politely while holding a bit of my heart back.

 

 There’s that part of my heart – maybe you’ve felt it too – that wants to have that boyfriend or that best friend with a bit more that everyone can see and you know that they are secretly planning their wedding.

 

 But that’s just not me. It breaks my heart at times, but it isn’t. God has said, “nope, this isn’t my plan for you. Not yet at least.” So here I am. Being me. Without a guy adoring me. And that’s okay. I can say that out loud, but truthfully, my heart is being a bit more stubborn.

 

 “So where’s your boyfriend?” asked a friend’s father as this very topic came up in conversation. I leaned on the picnic table, adding in a famous eye roll for dramatic effect. “He’s invisible. Or just hasn’t shown up yet.” Then I proceeded to tell the boys about my imaginary husband from childhood. His name was Pablo. We had a few hundred children. And the more I think about it, it’s okay that he hasn’t shown up yet saying “as you wish” with a British accent.

 

 See, instead of falling in love this summer, this is what I’m going to do:
  • Take an online Math class. Alg II to be exact.
  • Work lots and lots at VI. Maybe save up a bit.
  • Drive an hour to drink tea in Babbitt.
  • Attend camp with some of my dearest friends.
  • Read the Harry Potter series for the first time.
  • Re-read many of my favorite books.
  • Get tan. Ish.
  • Go camping in the boundary waters for the first time.
  • Get my PCA license for future use.
  • Counsel a gaggle of junior high girls and hopefully impact them to not fall for guys that say “swaggie”
  • Spend time with my sister and all her cute little friends. Tea parties y’all!
  • Dance like a maniac with my cousins at the wedding of the summer.
  • Road trip to Fargo and Minneapolis.
  • Go to the Not For Sale training in the cities.
  • See beautiful friends. Hopefully including a few blog friends.
  • Have “dates” with my single gal pals.
  • Listen to songs like “I Don’t Need a Soul” and “Gonna Get Over You” for moral support.
  • Not fall in love. And that’s okay.