If your 1 train was delayed on Wednesday around 9 a.m., you can thank Cade.
Posts under ‘Lurve/Luff/Like’
My baby stops the morning train
I’ll let Maya Angelou speak for me
I’ve had these two Maya Angelou poems in my head for the longest time, and now that I’m home where all my books are, I finally got to look them up. Guess why I’m sharing.
My salvageable male
On my last night in New York, the universe reminded me of one reason why I love the crazy metropolis in which I live.
How fast time’s passed
They say, “Rome wasn’t built in a day,” but recent events don’t convince me. Surely, one day someone looked around, awestruck that Rome had been built. Seemingly. Finally. Completed one day.
Cheesesteak-ville
Getting out of New York for the weekend was just as refreshing as I thought it would be. Cade and I left Manhattan around eight Friday night, cut across New Jersey, and made it to Philadelphia in about two hours. We stayed in an Olde City house that Cade’s dad owns. One of the apartments - a three floor spread that would be preposterously expensive in New York - is currently inhabited by Noah, one of Cade’s college friends. The first night in Philadelphia, I tripped across the cobbled streets with Cade, carrying bags and water. As in any place worth going to, parking spaces around the city are hard to come by. Fortunately, Cade and I can handle long treks between parked transportation and ultimate destination.
The return of weekends
Memories of the weekend lap the edges of my mind, pushing up the corners of my mouth. Saturday school - a long, tedious commitment since October - is finally over. I’ll miss the money and some of the interactions, but I finally get to sleep in. Hooray!
Afterschool program
The second to last Saturday school session proceeded with little ado. One of the teachers brought in Pirates of the Caribbean, so I didn’t even have to teach. And no, I didn’t vomit anywhere. In fact, the school lunch for the day was significantly more edible and had chips and a package of baby carrots.
Lost in the snow
You say “…but also…” in the raspy, halting voice of disclosure, but it sounds like nails on a chalkboard.
Taking forgiven
Sometimes the ones you love will do you a favor and give pieces of yourself back to you.
They will forgive, and instead of forgetting, remember how hard times were, shake their heads, and keep loving you despite your tendency to be a fallible human being.
Someday I hope somehow says to you, “You know, I really wanted to hate you and stay angry, but I want to be your friend. I’m going to be your friend.”
Has it died or merely shed its leaves?
I hear a tremor in your voice.
Are we bound for regeneration?
And if we are, will it be as one?
Or shall I grow alone,
smaller independently,
but just as alive, hardy?
