The Well of Imagination

Life will be life. I'm just writing it down. God will take care of the rest.

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I try to chase after my heart before someone steps on it, but it always seems to run faster than my brain.

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My oppa is better than your oppa.

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The Other Side of the River

I spend a lot of time on the other side of the river, looking back.

Seeing you, standing there, in the rushing water.

Eyes wide, uncertain of what to do, where to go.

The river's never the same twice, of course, but I've crossed it. Felt the icy current slide against my skin as I fought my way through. 

Alone, but for words shouted from the wrong side, calling me back -- not forward.

Or down, to the water.

But that voice was never strong for me.

Not as strong for me as it is for you.

Your despair -- I can taste it on my lips as you keep standing there, crying as the water pummels you again and again.

I can see, sometimes, that you want to give in -- let the river carry you far away into oblivion.

But that's why

I spend a lot of time on the other side of the river, looking back.

Because I never had a voice on the right side, calling me forward. Only whispers of people long gone, too fragile to help me.

But I'll be that voice for you. I'll call out to you so you know there is an end.

But it always gets worse before it gets better.

And I can't carry you through the river.

Because on the other side of the river, there's another river. Not quite the same, but still a river. And I have to cross my own rivers.

Again.

And again.

But listen for me. Listen for my voice. I'll be there, on the other side of the river, looking back.

I'll be the first hand to pull you out and tell you

It's going to be okay.

But only you can choose to listen.

[thewellofimagination-blog]

Just Friends

Sometimes I think I'll be okay -- just friends.

But then you come back.

And

Sweep me off my feet.

Knock the breath out of me.

Steal my sanity.

And

Leave.

Struggling to stand.

Struggling to breath.

Struggling to think.

And

I'm alone again, thinking maybe I'll be okay one day -- just friends.

[thewellofimagination-blog]

Negative Correlation

Relationships are positive correlations. The stronger the friendship, the stronger the relationship.

But somehow, we're different.

The stronger our friendship, the faster our old ties dissolve. I know it has to happen, but it still makes me sad.

Somehow, we're different.

[thewellofimagination-blog]

Ne me dit rien adieu

Tu me demande, << Comment te dire adieu? >>

Je te reponde, <<Ne me dit pas adieu. >>

Je voudrais t'avoir pour tourjours.

Mais voudrais-tu m'avoir toujours?

Je sais que tu est le mieux homme qui j'ai dans ma vie maintenant. 

Mais je sais aussi que je ne suis pas le mieux femme qui tu as dans sa vie - maintenant et puis.

C'est une situation sans l'espoir. J'espere contre l'espoir.

Donc, quand tu me demande, <<Comment te dire adieu? >>

Je te reponde, << Si tu m'aime, ne me dit rien adieu. >>

Mon coeur continue, << Mais tu ne m'aimera jamais. Je suis ton ami et pas de plus. Alors, dit-moi adieu, mon amour, dit-moi adieu. Pour ton amour, ton souci, dit-moi adieu.>>

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You're the only

He's the one who makes my heart beat faster.

But you're the one who made my heart.

He's the one who makes my thoughts whirl.

But you're the one who made me think.

He's the one who makes me happy.

But you're the one who gives me joy.

He's the one who makes me brave.

But you're the one who can truly protect me.

He's the one who would do anything for me.

But you're the one who already sacrificed it all.

He's the one who loves me.

But you're love itself.

He's the one.

But you're the only.

[thewellofimagination-blog]

Suspended

I think hope hurts more than rejection.

It's quite easy to understand where you need to go after rejection, but being suspended in uncertainty because you dare to hope -- that's hard.

Most of me knows it's impossible. If it wasn't impossible, it would be improbable. If it wasn't improbable, it would be unworkable. Our circumstances are simply too far away, yet I still hope.

So, this is me, suspended.

Silly me.

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It's not really honesty that scares us. It's what happens when the truth is revealed.

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J

When I type a single letter, seven people come up. My eyes see their faces, but my heart sees their stories.

The first, I love, but let go of.

The second, I love, but cannot be with.

The third, a wonderful friend, whose struggles I take as mine.

The fourth, a brother, more devoted than I imagined.

The fifth, a sister not by blood but life, my helper and adviser.

The sixth, another sister through life, my comforter and shoulder to cry on.

The seventh, a friend I did not think would become dear, but brought close through crisis.

Each one of them is dear to me, and I have the greatest "J" of them all to thank for bringing them into my lives.

When I type a single letter, eight people come up. My eyes see seven faces, and my heart sees seven stories.

My soul sees one savior.

[thewellofimagination-blog]

I would say I don't really know how I feel about you.

But that's a lie.

I would say I don't really know what I want from you.

But that's a lie.

I would say I don't really know how you feel about me.

But I think that's a lie too.

Everything has become so complicated to a point that although I do know, I feel like I don't. Because it's all an impossibility, an improbability, an unlikelihood. I'm not sure if I can come to terms with that. I know I have to, though. I know which path we are most likely to take.

But I won't give you my goodbye now, because for some reason I still hang on to hope.

[thewellofimagination-blog]

A little bit of kindness can go a very long way.

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Please, hold on

You have too much pain in your life. I can't believe I didn't see it before. Then again, I never imagined we would become such good friends.

But every time I see you cry out, I ache for you. I want to help, but what can I do? I've never experienced what you're experiencing. I can see that it's killing you from the inside. I can see it hurts so much that you want to take away the pain by ending it with the greatest finality. All I can do is tell you things will get better, that people care, but I don't know how much you hear.

It scares me, you know, that you might not want to hold on anymore. Every time I think of you, you make me sad. I see exactly what it is that you're missing in your life - the thing that makes my troubles easier to bear than yours - but it's not something I can give to you. It's something that you must find yourself.

But for now, give me your hand, and I'll hang on for you. Because that's what friends do.

[thewellofimagination-blog]

Don't you think there's something about guys' jackets? Somehow they make you feel warm, protected, loved, and taken care of. All at once. It's been said many times, and I can't help but agree.

Still, it's less of the jacket than it is the guy, isn't it?

[thewellofimagination-blog]

Mountains are climbed step by step

I was very happy yesterday. I'm usually very happy on Fridays. I think, though, that anyone else in my situation might not. I wake up at six in the morning and I don't get home until twelve at night.

But I love it.

Because I wake up at six in the morning, get to see all my friends, participate in my favorite clubs after school, practice and lead worship with my praise team at church, then have awesome discussions with really smart people about things I think really matter, and go home to bed, knowing that I can sleep in tomorrow.

But this particular Friday, I was made aware of how happy I really am. A friend of mine was complaining about all the things he had to do. Score well on the SAT and the Subject tests, apply for colleges, find and apply for scholarships, keep up with his research, do his online classes, and keep up with massive IB workload on top of everything. I can very much understand the stress that he was under and why he said to me, "Life is terrible."

But then I realized that, wait, I have many of the same stresses that he does. Perhaps I don't have research to do, or online classes, but I have other obligations such as piano and praise team and tennis and church. So I wondered why I was so much happier than he was.

I figured a lot of it was perspective. I felt happier than he did because I focused upon the good things in my life. The joys. He could only see the crushing workload. 

But tonight, the house was very quiet. Inevitably, my thoughts turned to him. And I felt very lonely again. I miss being able to text him and knowing that he's there. I just very much miss knowing that I'm very, very special to someone.

It's easy to tell someone to change their perspective.

It's hard to actually do it.

But that doesn't mean we should stop trying.

[thewellofimagination-blog]

To love means loving the unlovable. To forgive means pardoning the unpardonable. Faith means believing the unbelievable. Hope means hoping when everything seems hopeless.

G.K. Chesterton 

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Strength isn't really about being strong. It's knowing that you'll get knocked right back down again, but choosing to get up anyways.