If the shoe fits... Buy it in every color!

Deep in the city of mines lived a small, frail woman. She was a widow and had a son to look after. So nevertheless expenses were limited to the very bare-necessities. Every coin left in her purse always went to grant the child any bit of happiness, any bit of joy. And though as poor as could be, this woman was a strong woman, a confidant woman, a very hard working older woman.

I loved everything about her. She was my favorite service partner. Partially because she always carried a bag of cookies with her. But mostly because you couldn't help but fall in love with her. Even her shoes. I was always amazed that for such a very tight budget she always managed to wear a pair of shoes to match her outfit. I was. Well, till she told me. See she didn't own dozens of pairs of shoes. She didn't even own 10, or 5, or 2 pairs. She owned only but one pair. Every morning when she dressed she made sure to be tidy and clean, and that everything she wore matched perfectly... Even her shoes.

So she'd take to the multicolored shoe shine kit she had. And depending on what color was her outfit, the color she would take out and paint her one pair of shoes. But there she'd be every morning freshly pressed and color coded every day, ready to go out in field service. Many years later we're a country away and she still remains a zealous servant of Jehovah. She's a wonderful woman who taught me my first lesson in shoes... If the shoe fits... buy it in every color.

I think of that lesson today. I wrote a piece years ago on the analogy between men and shoes. And I think back to it now. Of how many pairs of shoes we go through in life. How many aren't a perfect fit. How many just disappoint. And then I think about the One pair. The one that finds us. Fits us perfectly. Looks stunningly. And delights the heart warmly.

We've all had a pair. The one we wear over and over till the poor sole goes out. Or till we are smart enough to recognize it as a staple and that it should always belong in our closet. So we go search for it time and time again every time we near the shoe department. It's just the ideal shoe. The thought of re-buying the same exact style has never crossed our minds till now. Before that it seemed like a "fashion don't". It takes many years and many fashion moments for us to appreciate the staple of certain classics in a wardrobe. Like the quintessential pair of shoes.

Which gets me thinking... Cinderella's life changed with just one pair. Who's to say your's won't as well? When it finally happens, when you meet that one guy, the one relationship that fits absolutely perfect. Appreciate it! Take care of it! Never discard it! It's not just a pair of shoes. It's THE pair of shoes. The ones that you will never regret buying, wearing, or strutting in.

Because if the shoe fits. If you glide with every step you take, if it heightens you to new horizons, if it balances you in all the terrains of life... then you might as well treasure it, be grateful for it, or just in case... Buy it in every color.

Happiness cannot be found looking back

The other day, as I rummaged around through old folded clothes in our walk in closet I ran across an old toy. This monkey I got at the zoo when I was like 6. It’s wearing a blue dress I took from a doll and it’s absolutely hideous. But I hold it tight, and I remember just how much I loved it. I used to drag that thing around for hours. Oh and God forbid I couldn’t find it when bed time came around. It brought me so much warmth to see it.

When I first saw it I was ecstatic. I held it close and reminisced. I even played with it for a couple of hours. This of course annoyed everyone at home because the only thing this monkey can do is squeak. At one point my mom looks at me and says. “Hay cosas que merecen quedarse en el pasado” Meaning: “this was cute when you were a child but if you don’t stop it, I’m gonna make sure it goes away forever”. I laughed at her. But she was right. At the end of the day, it took to a corner where it laid untouched and unplayed with. After all I’m 23 now and someone, like my mom, would eventually point out that carrying a stuffed animal is no longer appropriate.

There’s a reason why we put unused things away. It’s not that they don’t mean anything anymore but they no longer serve its purpose. If things didn’t expire just imagine how many bunk beds there’d be with Spiderman sheets on them. Every time we’d walk into our bedroom there’d be a time warp. From our Barbie Days to the Backstreet boys posters. From the Nancy drew books to piles of Vogues. The “Put a way” closet is there for a reason. We can’t hold on to things forever.

Later that week I found myself wrapped in my own time warp when I met up with my ex that weekend. Even though this was our first attempt at interaction past the break up, we managed to sweep everything under the rug and dance the night away. When you see each other after such a long time it’s so easy to get caught in the emotions of it all. And we did. The nostalgia of better days consumes you. You’re captivated by the feelings of the glory days. For a moment we were caught in the emotions of what we both missed about each other. But the reality was there was no place in our lives for each other anymore. And even the kindest wishes and the deepest admiration for one another could not alter the current page in our lives. Because put aside the past, there was no present. And you can’t live off the glory days forever. Eventually the monkey will squeak and cross the line. And you’ll be remembered why it was put away in the first place.

After finally addressing things, at least on my end, it blew up… and I realized we had wasted our time on trying to bring back to life what had long since then passed. The truth was we were both better off with out the other no matter how much we cared. Our lives were less toxic that way. One last text message later and I put down my phone and stepped away from it. I sat on my bed when the Monkey caught my eye. I looked at him and sighed.

We hold onto things because they hold a dear memory. They remind us of the past and taking them out to look at them from time to time remind us how far we’ve come since then. But maybe some things are meant to be retired for good, like a Monkey, or your ex boyfriend.

Because what good is dragging out every dead body if at the end of the day they will remain dead. Sometimes you just have to realize that there is no way around it. The past is the past. And its time you accept that so you can move along with your future. Maybe there’s a reason why we box things away and hide them in the attic. Our rooms cant be museums of past loves and aspirations.

After all Happiness will never be found looking back…

And she'll be the queen of hearts

Alice lost her way following a rabbit with a clock. She changed when she took a bottle labeled “Drink me” and a cake labeled “eat me”. And she almost drowned in a sea of tears. So how do you fall deep into a rabbit hole and come out the other end unchanged? You can’t.

She fell deep in love for a boy that never loved her back. He broke her heart, tore it out of her chest till there was no breath inside of her. And into a world of nonsense she fell in. Half asleep, unable to wake up.

He hurt her so bad; she didn’t know where to begin to pick up the pieces of her life. During the day it was very easy to be brave. But when night fell and the truth crept up in between dreams there was no escaping it.

You see even if we lie to ourselves during the day. The body is compelled to speak the truth at night. Maybe it’s because we talk so much during the day we can’t hear what the heart is saying. And if you don’t pay attention, then it talks to you through a dream, or a memory. And a dream is a poem the body writes. Therefore her nights were long, and her dreams were endless.

Alice in a world turned upside down. A woman alone, left to fend for herself, that’s what she was. So she dreamed and dream. Put her hands to her face. She had a lot of tears to spend.

It took everything she had to not let herself fall apart. She sighed, deeply but she understood then and there that it was time to reconcile with the idea that he was never meant for her. So she looked up at the starry night. Her eyes were filled with tears. The wind blew by, whispering things she didn’t need to know, as a tear fell down, as she let go.

The trouble with reaching her closure was that she still remained broken. Her faith in love, her hope of the future, her confidence in another was shattered and all her feelings remained in a world of chaos. She felt he had taken her ability to love. Because of a disastrous unraveling her heart grew cold. And the biggest fear in being untouchable wasn’t the fear of love itself but of never being able to be moved again.

For a long time she felt like a wish lost within the stars. Not certain of where she was going or how she’d ever get there. But she’d do anything to reach the surface, the real world, to burst through the magic mirror, away from Wonderland where logic and reason do not exist.

Battled scarred she works very hard to get back to who she used to be. With time the days became weeks, and the weeks months and the heart that once was lost began to beat again. She has yet to figure out what the future holds but for now she paints the roses red. And can’t help but simply wonder if Life itself is just a dream…

I'd fall in love

Love only comes once in a while. Knocks on your door, and throws you a smile. It takes every breath, leaves every scar, speaks to your soul, and sings to your heart. If I knew then what I know now…I’d fall in love.

“There’s something so special about first loves don’t you think?” she says going through my memory box.

“Yes, they come with a lot of firsts” – I say holding up a collection of snow globes I was once given.

She laughs. “And a lot of t-shirts? You really never wore one of these?” She asks.

“Nope” I say holding up an over sized t-shirt “Ugh… I was too cool to care”.

“What do you mean?” She looked at me puzzled.

“I was young and very immature. I spent the majority of that relationship fighting love. I didn’t know what I wanted and I certainly didn’t know what I needed. I thought love would tie me down. I thought being on my own meant independence and more happiness. I thought I had better fashion sense.”

“Well but aren’t all young loves wild and crazy that way?”

“Yes. But I was wrong. If I could go back I’d tell myself that all the games and all the time I spent being dramatic with ultimatums really didn’t get me anywhere. They only blocked me from being with a wonderful man. A man who all he wanted to do was love me.”

“But he wasn’t the one.”

“Maybe, but then again I never gave it a fair chance.”

“What you want me to call him up?”

“Noooo” I say laughing “I mean just think about it for a second. After him, I went through a series of bad dating. Only to fall deeply and madly in love again and get my heart broken. I’m no better off today then I was the day I removed him from my life. I just think how much trouble we would save ourselves if we didn’t fight love, if we just let it happen”

“Oh” she says thinking. “But then you wouldn’t have anything to write about. – she says jokingly, and I laugh.

The truth is that if it hadn’t been for our past we wouldn’t appreciate our future. And if it wasn’t for our present we wouldn’t hold regret of the past. Maybe you aren’t supposed to end up with the first person you fall in love with. Love isn’t really like the movies and things don’t just magically fit. But could you imagine a world where people didn’t fight love. How much heartache would you save yourself if you could only speak to the 18 year old version of yourself?

In regards to love what would you tell yourself? Would you make a list of who to date and who to stay away from? A cheat-sheet of relationship advice so you never had to face turmoil?

We waste so much time in playing games, in having pride, in trying to always be the one that comes out on top. And we lose and fail over and over as if it was a game of cards. Happiness is short lived and we discard people and move on thinking that every other time it will be different even though we play the game exactly the same. But did you really get ahead, or where you left behind searching for what was always there?

We use up a lot of chances that we can never get back. Because as much as we’d like to go back and have a stern conversation with ourselves, we can’t. We have to accept the cards we played. We have to live with our success along with our mistakes. We can only take hold of the present and try to map out a better future.

the ghost of boyfriends passed

I felt a sudden shift in the room, a new feeling in the air. And that’s when I saw him from the corner of my eye. And the once enormous arena felt like a four by four. I felt sick. You know that feeling that makes you feel lightheaded, like you can’t breathe and you’re hot all of a sudden. In that moment all I could feel was everything in me tensing up and desperation showing face. I was sure if I even gasped for air I wouldn’t remain unnoticed.

I looked at him again. There he was throwing his head back, laughing with his friends. He looked so strange to me. Past the figure, I couldn’t recognize his way anymore. I didn’t know him anymore. But there he was, the man, the ghost, of a story that till that day taunted me.

See that’s the thing about facing old ghosts, it’s that they bring back the echo’s of an era you tried so terribly to put behind you. And like an old silent movie you’re mind replays fading memories and lost promises. It’s breathtaking in a deep, melancholy kind of way. But maybe the scariest part about the past or ghosts isn’t actually facing them but the realization of what that means for your reality. That they are gone, that you’re alone.

I think the past will always topple over our present till we face it. Till we accept and release each other of everything that happened. Because otherwise we remain restless, haunted even. I had, till that day, kept waiting for closure, a moment of redemption that would let me know it was okay to start living again. And this was it. I felt a sudden rush of grief sweep over me as an immense feeling of understanding cleared my thoughts. It was that day I finally understood that our love had died, been buried, and put to rest. That there was no re-writing our story. No expectation of a different outcome. In that moment I finally reconciled with the idea that he was never meant for me. I had been trapped in the past for so long it was bittersweet to know I could finally move on.

I gazed at him one last time with the biggest sense of endearment, some how knowing I’d never see him again. At least not in an intimate kind of way. Our chapter was closed. Our story was sealed. An ill fated love affair, the kind of epic story that lives only in shelves, in the archives of two helpless hearts.

I sighed deeply as I turned away slowly. And one last tear ran down my face. Because though it was never said, a Goodbye filled the air. And of all the goodbyes the kind that hurts the most was the one your ears never heard, but your heart knew was being said.

It probably wouldn’t be this way...

While on the hospital I heard the most amazing story that touched my heart. Though indescribably heart breaking it reminds you that life will write itself and that ending you thought you had every right to write will be written for you…

There they stood. Both angry over petty things. Over the choice of words of others. In complete disregard of what they both were feeling. She didn’t care for his explination. She was just tired and the argument pushed her over the edge.

“Just leave okay! I don’t want to ever see you again! Just leave!” She screamed angrily.

He looked at her with disbelief, but his pride stopped him from saying anything else. He slammed the door behind me. Mumbling anger in his words as he got in his car and drove off.

She spent the rest of the afternoon spewing over everything that was said. Convinced that her pride was at stake here she convinced herself that she was right. She went through the house spilling all his contents of their relationship in the middle of her bed. Anger had overcome her and there was nothing anyone could of said that at the time would of made her think differently.

She never even noticed the phone calls in her phone. She never even noticed the headlights coming up her drive way. She heard the doorbell, and convinced it was him, she opened the door throwing a box of his things to the person in front her. It took her a couple of seconds for her to realize that it was an Officer.“Mam, are you alone at the moment?” She nodded “Yes”The rest of the words were a cloud “ Mam, we are sorry to inform you that…” And the words trailed off as she heard first hand that her boyfriend had been in a terrible car accident right after he left the house and was now laying in the morgue of the hospital 15 miles from her home.

The impact had been fatal. He had been declared dead on arrival. Her heart stopped. She felt herself gasping for air with out finding any and the only thing she could say was “Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!!!” as she put her hands to her face shaking her head. She collapsed on the floor and the pain was asphyxiating she began to hit her knees repeatedly.

Days later after the funeral she found herself on top of her bed, curled into a question mark, in the shirt he left. And she held the locket in her hand, the one he had their initials engraved to. And her eyes were blood shot red. Their fight replaying over and over in her head. The last words she’d screamed at him because she was angry- haunted her. Her body aches but her eyes are wide open. She turns to his side and stretches her arm out of habit to find only empty space. All she wants are words but all she hears is nothing. But her body craves his touch. Her lips crave his kisses. And her soul craves his warmth.

But in the silence all she hears are echo’s of yesterdays. The walls come alive and they scream the past. The rooms re-enact the moment. And she gets lost in a sea of tears. And it doesn’t matter the span of time, the pain doesn’t go away. She just feels like there is a knife permanently stabbed in her heart. The pain agonizing, breath taking, maddening. Like her heart began to beat a completely different beat one that made her restless at all times till she forgot what calmness and tranquility felt like.

“Every day I wake up Miriam, I hope it’s just been some terrible nightmare. One I’ll wake up from. But I never do. I have to live with this for the rest of my days. I have to live with the fact that the last thing I told the person I loved most was “Just leave”. And it came true – he is never coming back. But what I’d give for just one more day. I’d take it back, I’d take it back in a heart beat. Do you know what is to love someone so much and to not be able to hold them ever again? Do you?” She paused.

I bit my lip. After all, what story could I tell that wasn’t being told. She pulled the curtain and sat up in her bed and stared directly at me while I wiped off the tears.“Oh Sweet Girl, you know, I didn’t even mean it. I never pictured every minute with out him in it. But I said it. And I let my pride get the best of me. And he never got to hear the truth. That I loved him. That I still love him with every ounce and being in me.”

I swallowed my tears. Hers was such a sad story. But mine was the one being written. Life is strange like that. Pride is the biggest obstacle to love. If your life where to end tomorrow, or the next day, or 5 minutes from now what was the last thing you said? Did you tell him that you loved him or her? Did you mean it? And like I always say life writes itself and the ending you thought you had every right to write will be written for you. And then what good would your pride have accomplished?

Most people end a relationship because of the pettiest, most fixable situations there are. But they are so blinded by their own pride at the moment that they never realize that the loss they are facing is bigger than they can bear. It’s not till they look back and a huge hole is the only trace left that they realize they let someone who meant a lot go. And then it’s too late. Because love goes, or life happens.

She looked at me “Fix it. Fix it while you still have time. Because it all goes by so fast, and what do you have if you don’t have love?” she said going back to our original conversation. I sighed. And I lay in bed thinking wide awake the rest of the night. I gasped for air with out finding any.

Time is so precious, and we all take for granted. We watch it slowly trickle down the hour glass. And it all goes by so fast. And the more time you let time pass the harder it will be when you realize that you can never get it back. Sometimes the mountain we’ve climbing is just a grain of sand. But we can’t see that past the desperation. And if you choose pride over what your heart is telling you – you’ve just forfeited the game. Its like it is said – sometimes we have to forget who we think we are and acknowledge what Really makes us happy and complete. And if that all along has been the person you let go, then what are you doing to fix it? Would you much rather spend the rest of your life wishing and hoping things were different?

No matter how torn things seem to be there is no obstacle that cannot be overcome as long as we still have time. It shouldn’t take a drastic turn of events to make you realize what is really important to you. Don’t let life get in the way of your happiness. Let down your guard; tear down the walls, because there is no rewind button, no going back. You might spend a lifetime never being able to say what you wanted to say. Never being able to love how you wanted to love. Because once a loss is imminent that’s all there is… a loss.

its only the end of the beginning

Sometimes when I lay in bed all I can hear is the tick-tock of the clock. As if reminding me that life goes on. That no matter what I faced that day the world kept turning. It’s a bitter-sweet feeling.

The other day as I was going through a photo box a recent picture of me fell out. Just plain old me on it, a close up of my face, my face with a few bruises and tubes. I searched the girls eyes, the girl that was staring at me. I tore my own picture and threw it in the trash… She disgusted me. I went and laid down on my bed, closing my eyes, trying to clear my mind.

But all I could think about was that girl torn into tiny fragments with nothing to do but sit and wait to be made whole again. At that moment I knew the answer to my prayers. I got up, grabbed the trashcan and poured its contents onto the floor in front of me. I grabbed a piece of paper and some glue, laid it in front of me and poured the fragments on it.

I was determined to put it back together. I knew it wasn’t something I could do quickly. It would take time for me to learn to deal with it. I would add pieces day by day, slowly so it wouldn’t hurt as much. “It’s not a switch you can just flip off” my psychologist had told me once, meaning what I had gone through “Admitting that and everything that happened in your life is a part of letting go.” I have to accept the girl in the picture, who I was slowly piecing together each day. The girl with the red, watery eyes, and the fading and fresh bruises, who kept drowning slowly by choice. It hurts me to even think of her. But she was a part of me. As big a part as what I’d been before her. For they make the person I am today.

There are so many moments in my life I wish I could go back to, hitting the stop button at just one moment to stop everything that came after it. I have so many “if only’s”. But each place I thought I could push stop meant missing something that came after it, like the lessons I’ve learned and the strength I’ve recovered. I need it all, in the end, to make my own story find its finale.

In the past years I’ve managed to lose more than I had, and just when I would think things couldn’t get worse, they would. For a long time I felt unable to go forward. I felt stuck in the middle of a nightmare. I felt like my life didn’t belong to me. My life had been going at full speed for so long and it had just stopped, like running into a big brick wall, knocking the wind and the fight right out of me.

Sometimes our vision only clears after our eyes are washed away with tears. Maybe I had to lose everything to be able to appreciate what I have. Maybe it took for me to be stripped bare to realize how strong I really was. Maybe I had to lose all of me to be able to see what makes me… me. It might not be much but it’s enough to get me through. We all have moments of desperation. When we face our issues head on that’s when we find out just how strong we are.

After a really hard couple of years I’m beginning to find my way. Everything seems to be getting a little easier. And I find myself smiling and laughing again. I’m learning to push a little harder, give a little more, and not to give up as easily. I’m learning to forgive myself and others. I find myself starting all over again. I’m scared and everything is an effort. But I’ve spent too many years watching my life pass me by and I’ve decided those days are gone.

Sometimes we have to suffer through our mistakes. Sometimes life's not fair, but you just gotta hang in there. You just have to believe things will work out like they should. Time is my friend; it will help me erase all the bitter tears away so things won’t seem so tragic after all. Meanwhile I’m letting go of my past, of the things I cannot fix, of the wounds that won’t seem to heal. I won’t give up, I won’t give in. I’ll find ways around the memories.

With the struggles, the heartaches, and the pain comes lessons learned. And there’s so much I’ve learned and am learning. It’s summer now and I’m a little bruised, a little humbled, and a little smarter. My skin is a little bit thicker and my heart a little bit stronger. And for the first time in a long time it feels like the burden has been lifted, like the fever finally breaks.

It comes to show that no matter how harsh life can be, no matter how many bad cards life deals you, or how many harsh blows it throws at you-- there is always hope. In the end there is always healing and growing…

I’m opening up a whole new chapter in my life, and blank pages that await to be written with stories. So as I sit here looking out as the sun sets ending the day, I await for tomorrow. After all it’s only the end of the beginning…

Dying is easy. Living is hard.

A heart attack is when blood vessels that supply blood to the heart are blocked, preventing enough oxygen from getting to the heart. Classic symptoms include sudden chest pain, shortness of breath, palpitations, sweating, and anxiety, along with fatigue. I had one at the age of 20. My heart stopped. My breath stopped. My thoughts stopped. My life stopped. And the sound of the machine read a flat line. Doctors scurried and nurses swung instruments and in matter of minutes electricity shook my body till a jolt finally woke me. After I felt weak and faint. I don’t remember being able to stay conscious. The next few days were a blur, just visions of a few seconds when I’d open my eyes and see a different family member or friend near my bedside.

It was then I learned the truth in my grandmothers words “Morir es facil. Vivir eso toma esfuerzo.” Dying was easy, living was hard. Living takes guts, perseverance, strength, courage, and determination. You can’t possibly know where you’ll end up, you just know you have to get there somehow. But what if you’re life or love flat lines? What do you do then? Do you rush to the sight of doctors and nurses and hope to be resuscitated? Or do you let it sweep in, death, or giving up in this case? At the sight of a heart attack, if you’re given the option, what would you choose… life or death?

To know if you’ve suffered a heart attack most doctors rely on an electrocardiogram (ECG), echocardiography, and or various blood tests. But when Love flat lines you don’t need a test to tell you that something inside you has died.

Sometimes love crashes in the most dramatic and heart wrenching of ways. Sometimes we hold on so tightly it slips right through our hands. And what do wishes on stars get us but empty space and lost words. The death of relationship isn’t just heart breaking. It’s heart stopping. It prevents oxygen or clear thoughts reaching the heart. Classic symptoms include chest pain, shortness of breath, palpitations, anxiety, fatigue, and a river of tears. You don’t have to hear a long beep, you know you’re soul has died. Sometimes there’s just that much pain.

But what can you do? You can’t resuscitate yourself. It is then that we must learn to rely on 3 things. Jehovah, Our loved ones, and our inner strength. Because it takes pricking and prodding from others to remind you at times that you are still among the living. That life didn’t cease to end just because you can’t seem to reach consciousness. It will take a power bigger than ours to carry us through the cloudy, rainy days. Holy Spirit to make us roll out of bed when all you’ll want to do is lie there. And it will take a voice within to humble us so that we can learn to dust ourselves off and pick ourselves up again.

And no, it’s no easy. But sometimes you have to stop thinking about what you think you lost, and look forward to what there is to gain. Because as much as you’d like to you cant live the rest of your days strapped to a bed because you’re afraid to open your eyes and breathe again.

After a heart attack, you are left weak and breathless. Though revived, your whole body has to reboot. Restart. The flow of blood, your heart beat, your breath must normalize. And it’s a good amount of time before doctors and nurses stop prodding at you making sure you are still alive. When you suffer that kind of blow its only natural that it will take time to recuperate. You’ve almost just died! But you must remember that what doesn’t kill you can only make you stronger.

It might feel like the end of your world but if you pray hard and you hold on tight eventually… your heart will beat again.