Is Sunday morning the first part of a new week or the last chance to reflect on an old one?
I think that's why I like Sunday mornings so much. Every Sunday morning that tension between old and new, this moment.
Last week was my first week not working at the VECC. In one moment I now have a new apartment, new job, new gym, new grocery store, new routine, It's a lot of new most of it good. It can be exhausting though when I drive I'm not on autopilot anymore and my drive times are all confused. But I am happy for all of the new changes.
This past week I've spent in my classroom organizing, cleaning, and trying to find the right room environment to send the correct message to my class setting the tone for my first year of teaching. It's overwhelming.
Tomorrow starts district new hire orientation which means long tedious meetings, all. week.
I wanted to be a teacher because I want to invest in the next generation. I want to support and uplift them to give them the freedom of choices to enhance their lives. But in order to do that there are parts of the job that are tedious like these trainings and conferences. But it is all worth it in the end (hopefully)
...
Somewhere between the rebound and good luck Chuck
...
My stories are always messy. They are never cut and dried. There is always a story, drama, context, see you have to understand... well the thing is... always messy.
I wonder what the opposite is like, I wonder if there even is an opposite. Maybe everyone's story is messy and tangled. We are all interconnected, is it possible to have one neat and clean? No hang ups, no past hurt, just a pure fresh start.
Neither side reacting because of their past. Pursuing something they want to recreate or running from something they never want again. I wonder when people look at me when people talk to me do they see me or do they see in me reminders of past people whether that be good or bad isn't exactly the point. The point is am I, Adam, seen.
It's been about a year since I last talked to Kelly.
08/07/16
I wonder how she's doing. I always have this unwritten rule, like most of my life I set these strange arbitrary laws in my head and I must abide by them, after a breakup no communication for one year. None. This allows enough time for change, growth to happen to both people so that the person you loved no longer exists, their life took them down a path separate from yours and you as well. So much happens and changes in a year that when you finally do communicate the knowing is lost, slowly slipped away like sand through fingers, steady and constant. I do miss her but in such a different way now. Last year she broke my trust and I will never be able to care for her the way I did prior but that isn't to say on a much more surface level I still do, we shared some years of life together that's always connecting. If nothing else I miss our conversations and her laugh.
I wonder if I should reach out, or would that be inappropriate? I'm not even 100% confident I know what part of the country she's living in at the moment.
So much happens and changes in a year.
09/08/15
08/06/14
10/23/13
08/23/12
The further back I look the more cringe worthy my thoughts become, the more embarrassed I am of who I was. But I suppose that's a good thing. That's a sign of growth. Let my story be an example of hope, people most certainly do change. In fact I'd say it's impossible to stay stagnant because so much around us changes and we are the products of our environment. How awful the way I use to talk about the LGBTQ+ community and last week was my last day at a job in solidarity with my lesbian friend... So much happens and changes in a year, how much more in five.
My stories are always messy, but like I use to quote in 2012:
Without oxen a stable stays clean,
but you need a strong ox for a large harvest.
-Proverbs 14:4
The messier the story the better the fruits of life.
...And then Friday night happened.
Come hangout
...
What Come hang out
Is that a good idea?
We can walk around Grandview together, I don't know lol
That sounds amazing
...
...ok let me put pants on. Grandview Cafe?
Yes
And there she was...in person a real life person Not a display pic, not a filtered snap a real woman.
I approached her table, I hate meeting people and the whole situation still feels kinda wrong. I have no idea what this group of strangers knows or doesn't know about me but I want to be near her so I do. She had already cashed out expecting me...a sigh of relief, I don't have to awkwardly perform for strangers who may or may not have heard stories about me I just want some time with her
time
We walk to Staufs black coffee for me caffeine free tea for her, all to familiar but in the best sort of way.
I had nothing to say. I wanted to say everything perfectly I wanted to look smart, witty, and deep instead I'm distracted by traffic, patrons, and her smile. That smile, those soft shoulders shown by a pretty top with straps so damn thin They look like they were only one thread, spaghetti doesn't do them justice more like angel hair straps. The music in the coffee shop stops and we are about to be kicked out again familiar in the best way. I offer a post coffee shop walk, this time she agreed. We walk to my car and like a moron I offer her the oldest grimiest jacket I own she politely points to the clean and stylish blanket...(smiley emoji with the sweat drop)
We walk the streets of Grandview they are peaceful and the air has an October bite to it in early August. Eventually we find ourselves sitting at the top of a playground.
This moment is perfect, finally I have her alone, finally I have her face to face, and finally we are outside in a peaceful summer night...and I babble.
I ramble, and babble, about hook ups, dudes kissing in the park, and exes...
Since January I'd been waiting for this moment to hear her thoughts, her thoughts on love, on life, her thoughts on the ocean and rain, her thoughts on her family her future, her opinion of pickles, anything everything. No work in the morning, no schedule, no restrictions just the woman I have been dying to meet for over a year and myself...and I bring up that one time at Bibibop and Ericca (closed eyed straight mouthed emoji)
Maybe my subconscious was attempting to scare her away, maybe I was testing, showing her how I'm filled with flaws and an idiot like all other men I don't know why I spent that time with her the way I did.
Eventually she slide over to my side of the landing she shared her blanket with me...and I was done with words. She mentioned how cats only meow to communicate with other species, They only use their words when communication doesn't come naturally. She sat beside me and we fell silent, words became obsolete.
Continuously her phone rang, and the whole situation still feels kinda wrong. I wanted to sit there with her until we could watch the sunrise together, but I couldn't. Breaking the silence I said "we should probably go" I gave her back my portion of the blanket and slid down the slide.
My stories are always messy.
Sons Of The East - Into The Sun
I think that's why I like Sunday mornings so much. Every Sunday morning that tension between old and new, this moment.
Last week was my first week not working at the VECC. In one moment I now have a new apartment, new job, new gym, new grocery store, new routine, It's a lot of new most of it good. It can be exhausting though when I drive I'm not on autopilot anymore and my drive times are all confused. But I am happy for all of the new changes.
This past week I've spent in my classroom organizing, cleaning, and trying to find the right room environment to send the correct message to my class setting the tone for my first year of teaching. It's overwhelming.
Tomorrow starts district new hire orientation which means long tedious meetings, all. week.
I wanted to be a teacher because I want to invest in the next generation. I want to support and uplift them to give them the freedom of choices to enhance their lives. But in order to do that there are parts of the job that are tedious like these trainings and conferences. But it is all worth it in the end (hopefully)
...
Somewhere between the rebound and good luck Chuck
...
My stories are always messy. They are never cut and dried. There is always a story, drama, context, see you have to understand... well the thing is... always messy.
I wonder what the opposite is like, I wonder if there even is an opposite. Maybe everyone's story is messy and tangled. We are all interconnected, is it possible to have one neat and clean? No hang ups, no past hurt, just a pure fresh start.
Neither side reacting because of their past. Pursuing something they want to recreate or running from something they never want again. I wonder when people look at me when people talk to me do they see me or do they see in me reminders of past people whether that be good or bad isn't exactly the point. The point is am I, Adam, seen.
It's been about a year since I last talked to Kelly.
08/07/16
I wonder how she's doing. I always have this unwritten rule, like most of my life I set these strange arbitrary laws in my head and I must abide by them, after a breakup no communication for one year. None. This allows enough time for change, growth to happen to both people so that the person you loved no longer exists, their life took them down a path separate from yours and you as well. So much happens and changes in a year that when you finally do communicate the knowing is lost, slowly slipped away like sand through fingers, steady and constant. I do miss her but in such a different way now. Last year she broke my trust and I will never be able to care for her the way I did prior but that isn't to say on a much more surface level I still do, we shared some years of life together that's always connecting. If nothing else I miss our conversations and her laugh.
I wonder if I should reach out, or would that be inappropriate? I'm not even 100% confident I know what part of the country she's living in at the moment.
So much happens and changes in a year.
09/08/15
08/06/14
10/23/13
08/23/12
The further back I look the more cringe worthy my thoughts become, the more embarrassed I am of who I was. But I suppose that's a good thing. That's a sign of growth. Let my story be an example of hope, people most certainly do change. In fact I'd say it's impossible to stay stagnant because so much around us changes and we are the products of our environment. How awful the way I use to talk about the LGBTQ+ community and last week was my last day at a job in solidarity with my lesbian friend... So much happens and changes in a year, how much more in five.
My stories are always messy, but like I use to quote in 2012:
Without oxen a stable stays clean,
but you need a strong ox for a large harvest.
-Proverbs 14:4
The messier the story the better the fruits of life.
...And then Friday night happened.
Come hangout
...
What Come hang out
Is that a good idea?
We can walk around Grandview together, I don't know lol
That sounds amazing
...
...ok let me put pants on. Grandview Cafe?
Yes
And there she was...in person a real life person Not a display pic, not a filtered snap a real woman.
I approached her table, I hate meeting people and the whole situation still feels kinda wrong. I have no idea what this group of strangers knows or doesn't know about me but I want to be near her so I do. She had already cashed out expecting me...a sigh of relief, I don't have to awkwardly perform for strangers who may or may not have heard stories about me I just want some time with her
time
We walk to Staufs black coffee for me caffeine free tea for her, all to familiar but in the best sort of way.
I had nothing to say. I wanted to say everything perfectly I wanted to look smart, witty, and deep instead I'm distracted by traffic, patrons, and her smile. That smile, those soft shoulders shown by a pretty top with straps so damn thin They look like they were only one thread, spaghetti doesn't do them justice more like angel hair straps. The music in the coffee shop stops and we are about to be kicked out again familiar in the best way. I offer a post coffee shop walk, this time she agreed. We walk to my car and like a moron I offer her the oldest grimiest jacket I own she politely points to the clean and stylish blanket...(smiley emoji with the sweat drop)
We walk the streets of Grandview they are peaceful and the air has an October bite to it in early August. Eventually we find ourselves sitting at the top of a playground.
This moment is perfect, finally I have her alone, finally I have her face to face, and finally we are outside in a peaceful summer night...and I babble.
I ramble, and babble, about hook ups, dudes kissing in the park, and exes...
Since January I'd been waiting for this moment to hear her thoughts, her thoughts on love, on life, her thoughts on the ocean and rain, her thoughts on her family her future, her opinion of pickles, anything everything. No work in the morning, no schedule, no restrictions just the woman I have been dying to meet for over a year and myself...and I bring up that one time at Bibibop and Ericca (closed eyed straight mouthed emoji)
Maybe my subconscious was attempting to scare her away, maybe I was testing, showing her how I'm filled with flaws and an idiot like all other men I don't know why I spent that time with her the way I did.
Eventually she slide over to my side of the landing she shared her blanket with me...and I was done with words. She mentioned how cats only meow to communicate with other species, They only use their words when communication doesn't come naturally. She sat beside me and we fell silent, words became obsolete.
Continuously her phone rang, and the whole situation still feels kinda wrong. I wanted to sit there with her until we could watch the sunrise together, but I couldn't. Breaking the silence I said "we should probably go" I gave her back my portion of the blanket and slid down the slide.
My stories are always messy.
Sons Of The East - Into The Sun