a little fireball of a child. restless. adventurous. full of contagious energy. dark brown hair, eager eyes, and a heart of pure gold.
one-hundred and five percent boy. through and through. this little guy is all male--down to the bone. dreaming of football. crushing all things crush-able. rolling around in dirt for no apparent reason. and constantly building shiz--only to crush it too.
a little boy with a whole world of possibilities ahead of him. and the god-given ability to seize any and all of it--if he so chooses.
i can imagine it.
a teen now. same dark hair, beautiful eyes eager with passion and intellect. living the story of an american teenage boy.
star on his high school football team. living the dream of his younger years. hanging with his buds and dating the pretty brunette on the cheer squad.
winner of 'most handsome' in his class. and voted on as homecoming king. just being what an eighteen year-old should be. living like a teenage boy does--with fairly consistent trips to the emergency room, too many stitches to count, and the ongoing belief that he is truly invincible.
and that heart.
that perfect heart of his. the one of pure, radiant gold. so steadfast and solid. beating with the sole purpose of giving and receiving love.
i can imagine him.
that college guy. handsome with his dark hair, now cut a little shorter. eyes still bright and eager. anxious for experience. now dressed in full football uniform. standing in the stadium that he sat in so many times as a kid. the one he dreamed of all his life.
living off of cans of tuna, mac & cheese and protein powder--college life. working when he had the time. keeping himself awake through that early class. and getting that phone number of the pretty girl he saw at lunch.
he does like most college guys do--
unsure of his future, but confident that he will find a way to be the man he desires to be.
and now, i see that man.
that same dark hair and eager eyes.
eyes that i trust. that i look to for comfort and guidance. a man that now stands by my side on the bad days and the good. who holds me for no reason at all--other than to show me his love. a man that has taken those endless opportunities the world has offered him and continues to utilize them--one day at a time.
a humble, brilliant, protective man.
who respects his father and loves his mother just like a boy should. who cheers on his football team, no matter where in the world he has to internet-stream the game from.
business man. husband. brother. example. spontaneous traveler. seeker of weird-foreign foods, and the best friend a girl could ever have.
okay, maybe not never. there was probably a time when i was a young, bright-eyed-princess-dreaming little girl that i may have believed in such things. scheming up scenarios involving prince charming and his white stallion. coveting after all the outfits and glass slippers he came with in the disney-barbie-princess-party-set.
suspicious, really. 'prince charming' looked a lot like the ken doll (to-this-day i can't figure out why the mattel/disney design peeps couldn't get more creative with the male dolls)
but time quickly taught me otherwise.
i firmly believed that there were many men out there that could be a match for me. and held that same standard and formula for everyone.
hearing anyone mention the notion of being 'meant for each other' was slightly uncomfortable for me. i looked at it as naive and dangerous. because in my mind, the idea of soul-mates was more of just a fantastical concept born of old-school, fictional romanticism.
just a pleasant thought really. or a simple dream to let myself dream of on those nights when i needed to renew my faith in the whole idea of love and marriage.
nah, i never believed it.
finding myself in a new, slightly-frightening but overly exhilarating place was life-changing in and of itself. i was absolutely engulfed in a heated romance with a new city, fresh people, and a mindset of utter freedom.
people became more than just a figure. or a resume. or a potential suitor.
they became individuals with stories, experience and gifts to offer society. i was blown away by how different my views on living had become.
expecting nothing from others, i refused to 'sum' them up, and embraced each and every one of them for their beauty, quirkiness, and edge.
god had given me a unique opportunity.
i didn't plan on wasting it.
in my fury of absorbing everything and anything--on a rather ordinary san francisco evening--after being teased by the co-workers for actually putting on make-up and doing my hair in a way that didn't involve a padre's cap--- i found myself walking out of our office building on 5th and market, turning the corner into a small city alleyway, and watching his tall frame step out of that black bmw.
we had met before, but just briefly.
his features were striking. more-so than i remembered.
greeting me with one of the most charming and inviting smiles i had ever known, he politely opened my door and gestured for me to slide in.
thank you. i managed to say in a nonchalant, but aggressively-flirtatious way.
i remember that moment. the smell. the feeling. new car. new person. new experience.
oh, the memory is so clear.
like yesterday. like a beautiful, perfect yesterday.
the cafe on knob hill seemed smaller than it actually was.
the host led us past the front room, which consisted of a sleek wine-bar. lined--that wednesday evening--with several hump day dreamers just passing off on the american dream. elegant wine goblets set in front of them.
our waiter directed us to a back room and seated us at a quaint table. barely large enough for two. placed next to a window. the city was lovely that night. a cold, but calm evening. no fog or homeless in site (rare for san francisco)
the scene was damn close to perfect.
had i somehow fallen into one of those cheesy romance-easy-reads that i'd often buy in airports during-delayed-layover-desperation but secretly really enjoyed?
the kind with the tall, dark handsome man with the career and personality that no one could resist. the ones that you scorned at for being fictional?
the dream continued as we began our first dinner chat.
his face was new to me. a beautiful new.
i observed, mesmerized and intrigued as he talked about his job, traveling, living in the city--making fun of himself as he shared stories that made me laugh and fall hard for his sincere, eager eyes.
he put me at ease.
i talked too. open and honest. unguarded. extremely uncharacteristic for me. rare that a stranger could make me feel so at home.
who was this man? where had he been all my life? (cue rihanna)
this handsome face. sweet nature. and protective instincts.
hell, it didn't take a lot for him to rope me in.
the night ended with a sweet and perfect kiss. and believe me, giddy doesn't even begin to adequately describe the state i found myself in as i snuggled into bed that night. it was a new feeling. something i truly had never felt before.
a feeling of ease. of not being afraid. a feeling of being completely 100% me. and be loved for it. a feeling of confidence in what the future held. all mixed into one, warm and whimsical emotion.
from that night on, we struggled being apart.
some would call that first date a success.
others might say it was a truly fortunate coincidence. a matter of being in the right time. in the right place. with the right people.
and though i agree with all these things, i believe it was much, much more.
heaven's plan for two individuals, destined to be together. in a time when they were both ready, willing and anxious.
so, there you are. hella chessy and eatin' my own words. i've officially made a full circle from those early days of playing with prince-charming-barbie-ken and dreaming of that one-and-only.
thirty-two slow dances and two-thousand and fifty-six i love you's later (i guesstimated on those), i found myself standing on a bridge. a ceiling of lights strung above me. in one of my favorite places on earth-- with him.
'i left my heart in san francisco' playing in the background.
my best friend. the love of my life. my reason.
the man that exceeded all of my expectations and trumped over anything i have ever dreamt up on my own or read in a some cheesy romance novel.
kneeling right there in front of me.
finding that one may be a matter of the right time. and having the right mindset. being ready in a certain phase of life.
if you're like me, it will go against all other plans previously made.
but when that moment of clarity comes, it should be easy. it shouldn't be a fight, toss-up, or guessing game. it should be a fact. like so many people had told me over the years--when you know, you truly do know. it won't be a question.
and though i know it works differently for everyone, i truly believe that last statement.
with all of my heart.
whether it's a foggy west-coast city full of kookie-ass people. or just down the street from the home you've always known.
it'll be that one.
the one you choose to love forever.
“He is exactly the poem I wanted to write." - Mary Oliver
i'm saying it now. in hopes that i don't jinx myself.
i plan on having a daughter.
and yes, like many females--i have a list of names that i believe will suit her well (and though i would not classify my list as 'trendy' or 'weird'--i do have some 'different' name selections that i'm very much in love with it).
and i won't deny the fact that i do have outfits from the zara toddler line that i dream of clothing her in, and already know i will love her with every ounce of devotion and possessiveness my 5'3" frame can hold.
and every now and again--on no particular day or time--walking downtown on sunny san francisco days, cuddled up on the sofa watching a tv fave, or while wandering down the hair supply aisle at target-- i think about this beautiful little creature of my future.
her eyes will be strong. and determined. just like her dad's.
feminine and proud. like her mom.
she'll love fairytales and have a wild, ridiculous imagination. she'll dream of growing up, of moving to a city, becoming a designer or a teacher or a doctor or a dolphin trainer...and of falling hopelessly in love.
and just like my parents did--i'll let her dream, but teach her to embrace and build-upon reality.
i pray she'll grow up slow. and that as she does, she'll be intelligent and have the savvy-street-smarts that her parents raised her to have.
yes, i think about her beautiful smile. and how protective her father will be as he waits up for her to return from her first prom.
and sometimes, i pray for her. especially on days when the world overwhelms me.
but i do.
i think about things.
things that scare the hell out of me. things that piss off the feisty-woman inside of me (definitely get that from shell-bell) and things that i love--that bring me so much joy for her.
and as i do, i allow my obsessive-compulsive-self to mentally keep a list.
a list. of so many, many things i want to teach her. that i'd like for her to know.
things like--find a good hairstylist that you like and stick with them, always try to keep some midol and/or tylenol on hand at all times, allow yourself some dark chocolate on a daily basis (good for the soul) and never-ever-ever over pluck your eyebrows.
you know. just the basics of growing up female.
...allow yourself a good cry from time to time. don't be ashamed to go see a sappy love flick by yourself. shave your whole leg (not just the bottom half. pleeeease. yuck. i mean seriously, no one wants a sneak peak of your upper leg when it's in all-nat-u-ral mode) and one of the more important ones--find your best friends and keep them close. you'll want them around.
but more than that...
i want to teach her about how blessed she is to be a woman. i want her to never doubt in who she is, in what she is capable of, and in what she is worth.
she will be beautiful. strong. sensitive. sarcastic. loving.
and 100% her.
there will--without fail--be moments, days, and even weeks when she'll feel inadequate.
'the-prone-to-feel-inadequate" gene is somehow just a part of being female. yeah, it sucks. but whatev.
and i'm not going to pretend like my little girl will never experience such feelings. because there will be days, days of forgetting who she is--when she'll want to plaster on the make-up thicker, wear something just a little-bit-sluttier, and put on 'the act' that the boys seem to like.
oh-do-i-hate 'the act'. and i can only pray that she will too.
because she'll have mornings when the mirror will tell her she's not skinny enough. nights when punk-ass boys will break her heart. and then there will be times when she'll break theirs.
times when chemistry 101 will convince her she isn't smart enough. and when not making the varsity team or getting that one job she really wanted will pick away at her confidence.
and of course, my little girl will make mistakes. she'll be her mothers daughter--so yes, obviously she'll be learning by default at times--okay, a lot of the times.
perfection is not expected. experience will be bitter/sweet. and she'll be stronger for it.
she'll learn, recoup and move forward.
one day, she'll be sitting in an airport. headed home to see her family. and attend her sisters wedding.
it will be busy. her flight will be cancelled and delayed.
again and again.
she'll realize that twenty-four years of life have now passed on by. she'll understand and have accepted that many mistakes have been made and many more are yet to come...
by now she is starting to understand herself.
her beliefs. her values. the truth behind the facades of the world. what she will and will not compromise on. and what she desires of her future.
she knows the pains of loss. the sting of grief. and the ache of a broken heart.
and on the contrary--she'll know the joy found in true accomplishment, the gratitude taught from life experience, and the absolute heaven-on-earth-and-beyond-your-wildest-dreams-kind-of-happiness brought to this world by sincere, honest love.
realizing that all those childish dreams--dreams she had of moving to a city, having a career, hailing a cab in the rain, and finding someone to love forever--have already come true.
she'll hop on the plane.
and head across the open skies, towards the mountains and back to her home. to the place that founded this all. to the ones that taught her to remain true to herself.
to be 100% her.
and never settle for anything less.
yes, that's what i want. for that beautiful little girl of my future...
i want her dreams to come true.
exactly as mine have.
this post is for my parents. my little sister is getting married this next week. i can't help but think about what a stunning job they have done raising us kids.
i love them. and can only pray that i will half of the loving, encouraging parents that they were to us.
the gist of it--i know what it feels like to have a broken heart.
ha, and right now you're sitting there thinking, 'no duh kris. we read your blog. that's no secret.'
tell us somethin' we don't know.
but yes, i do.
and they suck. sorry mr. birrell/miss wolsey (they made our entire sophomore american studies class commit to never using the "s" word again by filling out a sheet of 100 words that could be used to replace it.)
but suck is what broken hearts do.
they suck all the life, motivation, and faith right outta' ya.
and this past post expresses that even though i had yet to experience it, held onto the hope that one day--in some future life--that i dared only dream of--there would be that one.
after all the failed relationships. all the laughable attempts at love. all the shit that left you feeling helpless, insecure and lost.
yes, after all that. i knew that somehow, someday there would be that one. that game changer.
in my exact words...
it'll be that one time. when it won't fail. when you will fight. and he will fight. and you will fight for each other.
you'll come sprinting. you'll come knowing you're willing to give just about anything. you'll come in humility...ready to forgive and be forgiven. learning from your past mistakes, you'll come in eagerness.
and for no reason at all--things will fall into place.
doesn't sound much like the me we all knew at that time. but nevertheless, that's what i wrote.
and even though i had no real evidentiary support, my heart told me it was the truth.
i guess i still believed in it all along.
even though i often preached against it--solely based off of my experience that had become the only truths i really knew. the truth that love all-to-often ended in hurt. and regularly left you lying in bed at night--wondering if that love would still exist tomorrow. wondering what game you'd be competing in tomorrow.
but see, deep down i think i knew. one day. it wouldn't be a game. not a game at all in fact.
somehow, deep down, i knew that one day it would just work. work in ways that i had never before experienced.and it would be so real, so genuine. almost sacred. to a point where games are not even considered. and for all of you doubting this--the ones out there getting there ass's kicked by another-ridiculous-one-sided relationship-- please listen.
don't settle. don't settle for anything less than crazy love. find reason in one another. and passion that comes natural with a ravenous desire to stay alive.
why? because it exists.
you love him. he loves you. he respects every beautiful inch of you and you respect the hell out of him.
you'll go to bed at night, knowing he'd kill for you. knowing that he will be there for you in the morning, as devoted and as in love with you as he was the day before.
he'll never hurt you.
and you'll find that your desires to make him happy are close-to-overwhelming.
yes, sweet girl. it exists.
just like my beautiful friend arica told me over our first dinner at one of the city's more pretentious and overpriced new-american restaurants...
"you'll meet someone kris. the right one. and i promise you, he'll make you forget about all those past experiences--the ones that are currently holding you back and distracting you. and no--he won't be able to wash them away from your past...but he will replace them with new, beautiful things that will create a special love that is uniquely for you two."
yes, words like that.
words that only god in heaven above could have placed in a more appropriate and timely manner. another testament to why certain people arrive in our lives when they do.
yes, all those words regarding the beauty of love. those things people had said to me in moments when i just could barely bare the pain anymore. the words that i'd scold at in the steam of darkened shower on those heartbroken nights....
like magic. they suddenly all hold so much meaning
it won't be a gamble.
don't listen to that unhappy man that tells you it will. because sure, there will be risk. always is. but not a gamble. no games. just trust and every reason in the world.
i remember--so many years ago--reading the words of elizabeth barrett browning (and again--shout out to mr. birrell and miss wolsey. a big thanks for all the intense hours of poetry reading our american studies class demanded from us)
her words read like an intimidating but captivating voice.
you're something between a dream and a miracle.
they almost haunted me, they were so shocking, so romantic, and so crazy-ass passionate. more than anything---and i mean anything. i wanted that.
and from that moment on. i had no plans to ever settle for less.
no matter how many nights of dark-steamy-showers and friends re-run's the future held in-store for me.
that's what i wanted.
so here we are.
not ashamed to admit, i know most friends episodes from start to finish and can quote a good majority of them by heart.
i've mastered the art of taking dark, steamy, therapeutic showers. and have written numerous very-honest, sometimes harsh and slightly-bitchy blogposts on love in its prime and in its weakness.
i'm twenty-three measly years of rather-intense experience.
i never understood it. until now.
and you darling, are more of a dream than i could have ever dreamt of. and are more of an absolute miracle than i will ever deserve.
so send the dophins, baby. go right ahead. and listen to this song.
my instinct is to gravitate towards warmth. mainly because it provides a temporal comfort.
poor circulation doesn’t even begin to describe the condition of my feet or finger tips. ask anyone familiar with my appendages.
i’m a slave to wool socks and slippers, even in the dry september heat.
i can’t resist warmth.
one of the many reasons i’ve migrated back down to the lands of california.
snow and endless winters can be charming, obviously. fireplaces, hot chocolate, a snuggie. oh yes, it all rings so infomercial-sweetly.
but not for me.
walking inside and feeling melted snow seep deep into my boots, scraping ice off of my windshield at hellish hours of the morning, and coming out of work to three feet of snow piled on top of my car are all things that kind of make me want to cry.
i’m a girl that lusts after the vicious summer heat. and will aggressively wiggle her toes and shake her legs to warm up under when first slipping into bed at night.
so please, don’t be surprised baby.
when we pull down the covers. just you and i.
in a bed much like this.
placed in a room carefully and obsessively crafted just to our liking. with one-too-many down filled pillows (i'm a pillow snob) and the perfect, slightly-sensual color palette.
the day will have ended like most. we'll laugh at the ridiculous things we say and do. i'll tell you stories about the cray-crayyyy woman i work with. you'll joke about my inability to take care of my car. which i deserve--after forgetting to get its oil changed. again.
kindly saying you'll do it for me tomorrow.
i'll stand on my tip-toes. and thank you with a sincere kiss on your perfect jaw bone.
living for those moments of pure, crazy-ass love. the kind that most find overwhelming (in the beautiful sense of the word). the kind that brings so much freakin' warmth to your fingertips through a simple touch.
pumping so much blood through your once chilly, lost-and-forgotten heart.
we'll turn down those sheets.
and darling, like i said-- don’t be surprised.
when i curl up next to you and let my nose bury into the side of your chest.
and please don’t be thrown off when you hear a muffled whisper, as i pull that duvet up higher around my lips--telling you to come closer to me.
you make think it's just for that ridiculous amount of body heat you put off. and in a small way--maybe it is (like i said--my circulation is extremely poor)...
but what you may not realize...
is that mostly--mostly and lastly--it's for that indescribable, addictive warmth.
found in your touch, spread through the fingertips. it's that heart-pumping-dream-shaking-world-rocking warmth that only moments like these can offer a person.