Tag: kyle freelander
Moving time!
It has come time for me to move out of my apartment and in memory of my time there, I thought I would make a list of things that I will NOT miss about this place:
1. The kid running around upstairs. How a little kid manages to shake my whole apartment, I will never understand. Literally, baby earthquake every time that kid is home.
2. The finicky thermostat where my room is always too hot or too cold (never just right) and my roommate’s room is always the exact opposite. There is no winning.
3. The train. Admittedly, you only really hear it if you are outside or have the windows open but it is a little strange to be neighbors with a choo-choo train.
While there are things I won’t miss about this place, there are a ridiculous number of things I WILL miss that I can only begin to list here:
1. The historic downtown area as our backyard. It’s pretty cool that almost everywhere you go has a story that dates back a good hundred years.
2. Everything being within a ten minute drive. Or, better yet, a brief walk.
3. The pool. It had a sort of resort feel to it. Plus, it wasn’t very crowded during the week which was definitely a plus for my roommates and myself.
4. It’s a nice apartment. Like a Barbie dream home. You know, if that dream home was an apartment with two roommates and everyone’s respective significant others.
5. Not having to share a bathroom. This is the first time I haven’t had to share a bathroom with one or more females, so I have this apartment to thank for finally introducing me to straightening my hair, storing my products, and in general having my own decorations in the bathroom. It’s the little things…or the weird things.
6. The food. When moving away from a variety of restaurants both large and small to an area that mainly has chain restaurants, the food will always be missed.
7. The nightlife, although it occasionally felt limited, was a nice atmosphere. There were the few regulars that were always fun to spot coupled with a bunch of new people of all ages (well, above 21 that is). Plus, it was easy to barhop since everything was within a short walking distance. If one place wasn’t happening, you could easily venture forth!
8. EVERYTHING. Oh well, I am moving onto bigger and hopefully better things. Maybe you will see me there again some day…
Dating: Love Will Knock You Down
One day you will kiss the wrong person hello because you are eager not to feel alone. The kiss will be plastic and there will be no spark but you will stay anyway. A hand held remains warm for a while, even if there is no fire. You are tired of being cold.
Original Image from flickr
One day you will fall for the wrong line because you are a lover of words that weave their way through your soul and make themselves at home in your heart. You collect these words in clips and phrases so they fit into your memories until they have grown sour with time. You will try to tear them out of your past and out of your mind but you cannot keep them from their home. This is something you will learn to understand because you know words are more than “just words”: they are moments and ideas that expressed something you thought would never be captured, and yet there it was. Hold onto that even if it hurts.
One day you will leave the “right one” for the wrong reasons. You will wake every day wishing you could take it all back, but what’s done is done. Find comfort in the fact that there will be a time you will leave the “wrong one” for the right reasons.
One day you will hold back an apology you should have said. This will be the apology that floats like a tumbleweed through your body, resurfacing when you let your mind wander back to all the times you could have said those words but bit your tongue with pride instead. Learn to say sorry; learn to set yourself free.
One day you will promise someone a premature “I love you” because you want so badly for that to be true. However, love cannot be forced. You can make yourself say the words but you cannot make your heart feel something it does not. One day you will figure that out, but not before somebody gets hurt.
One day you will bleed from pain caused by someone you care for. May the offense be little or large, your blood will spill the same way tears fall: slowly at first and then faster and faster until there is nothing left for you to offer. From the middle of the pool you will cry out, but no one will hear you. There you will sit until you learn to stand on your own two feet once more. When you stand again you are strong, but not immune.
Use that strength to start over.
{{Originally published at Thought Catalog.}}
Poetry: My Sombrero Is Too Big
I don’t like writing poems
about death, especially his,
because it would mean
having to accept that he
was never coming back
into this world to hold
my grandmother’s hand
and play that song on repeat
about getting sombreros
for Christmas.
It would mean no return
to draw whiskers
on my face in marker
stolen from my
Doodle Bear,
and it would mean
birthday cards
only from grandma
when it was always
from the two of them,
and it would mean
that he had passed
away and that I miss
him more than I ever
let on, because it’s hard
to let go of those
you never wanted
to leave.
Dating: What The Person You Deserve Is Like
You deserve love and security, a combination that warms the core of your heart. You deserve knowledge that the person you are with wants to be there and, more importantly, won’t run away when times get tough. This is someone that will stay by your side, fight your fights right there with you because they know you would do the same for them.
You deserve someone who laughs at your jokes and smiles at the mere sight of you smiling. This smile will be genuine, not fake, and you will feel butterflies when you see it and your smile will grow until your cheeks can no longer take it.
You deserve someone who brings you coffee in the morning because they know the addiction is real. You deserve breakfast in bed, flowers “just because,” and hugs that feel like you are at home.
You deserve hands that only reach for you. They may be dry, cracked, calloused, perfectly manicured, or a complete mess, but they know you, your hands, and your body. They don’t reach away to know more.
You deserve someone who doesn’t make you cry, at least on purpose, because you are human and you feel deeply and love passionately, and when one teardrop falls there may be a thousand more, but you are not alone. Even though they hurt you, they hold you until the shaking stops, wiping away your tears and kissing your damp cheeks although you whisper for them to stop. They will say sorry and you will feign being mad until you both give in to happiness again because you know anger is a state the two of you cannot remain in.
You deserve someone who takes responsibility for their mistakes and who apologizes for the times they unintentionally hurt you because you would do the same for them. You deserve someone who can forgive as you do, even if neither of you can completely forget.
You deserve someone whose touch feels like fireworks across your skin, whose eyes always look for yours when they enter a room, and whose heart never yearns for the attention of another.
You deserve trust that may waver but never entirely falter. It will look nothing like control. It will look like freedom but with your best friend by your side holding your hand. There will be moments of jealousy, but these will be outweighed by smiles, laughter, trust, and love.
You deserve back rubs for no reason, dinner you don’t have to make alone, a hand to hold, a heart to feel, and a person who cannot imagine life without you in it.
You deserve security just as much as you deserve spontaneity. You will be comfortable but not so settled down that stubborn roots no longer give you the nutrients you need to grow. This person you are with will try the things you enjoy and you will try the things they do as well. You will find new things to do and new places to go because you both love to share these sorts of moments together.
You deserve someone who pushes you to be better, to seek out the best opportunities for you even if the next step is terrifying for you both.
You deserve chocolate when you are cranky, a partner to indulge in your guilty television pleasures, and someone who tries to kiss you even though they just watched you puke up breakfast, lunch, and dinner. This is the person who laughs when you correct their grammar instead of getting mad, the one who knows they had better text you back, and the person who understands that you will not always have your “A game” out on display.
You deserve someone who wants to be better for you, someone who strives to be better for you, but, most importantly, you deserve someone who wants to be better for themselves. This is the type of person who will grow alongside of you and never dream of holding you back.
You deserve someone who is looking at the big picture in life, and that picture has you in it.
You deserve someone who continues looking forward, someone who doesn’t stop constantly to look at the past. They may not like everything about who you were before, but they love who you have become. They know not to let your past trip them up for too long. You both came into the relationship with baggage that slowly unpacked itself and, even though it would be easy enough to pack up your things and go back to your respective homes, you both stay.
You deserve someone who loves you as much as you love them, a life that is so beautiful that you cannot tell if you are awake or still in bed dreaming, and someone who doesn’t so much as put one foot out the door because they know you are not the person to walk away from. This will be the person who sticks around through thick and thin because they want to, not because they have to.
You deserve all of this and so much more, and you deserve it for a lifetime.
Originally published at Thought Catalog.
Poetry: Sorry Cupid, I’ve Got This
Poetry: Oliver and No Company
The people dodge soda stains on the sidewalk,
their attention directed to the ground so they don’t see
the sign that says ‘free kittens’ in shaky black marker,
a plea for them to take us out of the worn box
and show us what a real home looks like,
where we wouldn’t have to worry about food
as we spent our days playing with yarn
instead of green glass bottles and sacred hair balls
we fight over, our only source of fun.
My brothers and sisters plead for the people’s attention
by pouncing on the rim of the box, pushing and shoving,
doing whatever it takes to get chosen for protection
but we are easy to ignore on a street full of distractions.
Smoke from a man’s mouth drifts our way,
smelling worse than our only neighbor, the sewer,
while the clanking of metal trashcans
is mistaken for music by the people
who stop for that, but not for us.
Cries surround me, drowned out to the people by sirens
from trucks that zoom past as we stand still
begging, pleading, asking sweetly for love
from those who never intended to give it
and for a moment I think that I should join my family
in their task of getting out of misery but I can’t,
my quiet tongue holds me back again.
I always was the silent one.
One person approaches, called over by the noise,
he pets us with his dirty, cloth hands
and wishes us luck with our quest,
which is enough to tell the people that pass us
that we are friendly enough for hellos
and too cute for goodbyes
as strangers took my siblings away, one by one,
until they have all been taken away from me.
I always was the ugly one.
A little boy picks me up, pulling on my tail
but that doesn’t matter to me as he asks his mother
if they can take me home and feed me, play with me,
and name me Oliver like their last cat.
I flick my ears forward and tell my eyes to grow,
anything to be cute enough to be taken home,
but his mother tells him to put me back.
I always was the rejected one.
Rain begins to fall, gluing my fur together in clumps,
while the people hide under umbrellas and in buildings
I have no hope of getting to; ever-exposed in the box.
I open my mouth to greet the water with my dryness
and snaps of my baby teeth, just sharp enough to scare
the people away from me as I pray silently for them
to come back, like they did for my siblings
in the sunshine of the day while I was left behind
to fend for myself in the cruel of the night.
An unheard cry escapes my lips as the box
becomes a pool I’m afraid of. I bat my paws frantically
trying to keep the water under me, off of me,
as I squeak and cry out for someone, anyone,
to save me from the box, from the streets of death,
but I am left to paddle for my own safety
until the box dampens and breaks,
the pool of water chucking me into the city
full of people with big feet for trampling
and small hearts full of hatred for forgotten
kittens like me, the lonely one.
Poetry: I am here
I warn you now that when you are lost,
I will find you. When there are too many
thick trees to see the sun
and too many turns to find the right one,
I will help you. When you cannot carry
the weight of the world,
I will take a plate and walk beside you.
When you bleed, I will mend you.
When you scream, I will calm you.
When you cry, I will hold you.
Most importantly though,
when you break down,
I will still love you.
Fiction: Wardrobe
“What’s your story?” LBD grunted as soon as the door was closed. Having been worn more than the rest of us, and being a full outfit on her own, LBD appointed herself our leader. No one fought her on this. She was worldly, always coming back in the closet with tales of parties where she rubbed against shiny ties and pants so pressed you couldn’t guess their age. Sometimes she didn’t even get washed before she was returned to us and we could smell the drinks and smoke that made her cooler than any of us put through the spin cycle.
“What do you mean?” The green sequins on her body shook as she responded.
“Do you have a name? Where are you from? When are you leaving?” LBD was always harsher towards dresses than us shirts.
I wanted to tell LBD to cut her some slack, but I knew better than to mess with her. Even if I was only a T-shirt, LBD was a force not to be questioned. I knew if I stood up for this stranger, LBD would exact some revenge. She’d probably skip over the obvious paint spots I got from when Owner redid the kitchen and jump right to my initial design. On my front side, I said, “S—haw– Swim team 2003” (some of my lettering had gone away over the years while LBD who was here even before I arrived still maintained the appearance of being straight from the store).
The green sequins shook again as the new dress went to reply, “They call me Mermaid…I’m from the mall…” We all shuddered at the word. Most of us were from some mall or another, a holding pen for us as we begged like shelter animals to be taken home. “And I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to go back there.”
LBD scoffed. She didn’t want to compete with new dresses for Owner’s attention. She prided herself on being out the most, of seeing the most, of doing the most, and making us all feel inferior. It worked. I used to see pools and scantily clad bodies but now I was lucky to have even made it to the kitchen. Defilement by paint or not, I was lucky to leave the closet.
“What do you think of the newcomer?” Blue asked me. She and I had become friends a few months into her arrival here once the dresses shunned her. From her exterior alone, you would never have guessed that Blue wasn’t a sundress and, since no one thought to ask her if she was what she appeared, she was accepted as one of them. LBD didn’t feel as defensive when it came to her since Blue was clearly a casual wear and LBD was for “special occasions,” as she liked to say.
It was only when Blue got caught on another dress that her secret was revealed: she wasn’t a dress at all. She was a jumper and dresses couldn’t be friends with the jumpers. Most of the shirts had shunned her as well for deceiving us all, but I was rather forgiving on the matter. Blue couldn’t help the way she looked anymore than I could.
“She seems a little skittish,” I replied as Mermaid shook her body in a manner that made it look like she was drowning. I wished that someone would tell her that it was going to be all right, that she just needed to ignore LBD. One of these days Mermaid would get to see a piece of the world the way we all did and she would no longer care about her first moments pulling on the white plastic hanger, holding on for dear life, while LBD interrogated her.
Mermaid made it through the year, getting taken out three times in the summer and early fall to events that LBD pretended not to care about but we all knew that she did. Even though she got out more than any of us, LBD wanted nothing more than to be taken out every day –practical or not. Blue got worn once that year –on a boat she had said with a smile so large it looked like a matching long necklace hung on her. I, on the other hand, hadn’t left the closet at all. There was one close call when Owner almost pulled me down, but she settled on a different shirt instead when she notice the splotches of paint she had put on me. As evil as she was, even LBD knew better than to say anything about this occurrence. We all feared the day when Owner wouldn’t want us anymore.
Then came the day we always knew would come as it did every year: spring-cleaning. We could always tell that day was on the horizon when Owner wore less sweaters and shorter dresses. Today was that day. As owner walked into the closet, I stared at the black body bag in her hand. Her nails were painted the same shade of green she had painted the kitchen walls –the same shade of green that I wore in spots across my skin. In a weird way, that gave me some hope. Owner still likes the color and I have some of that color. Maybe she still liked me. We had been through so much together. Surely she remembered that?
Owner started at the back of the walk-in closet with the dresses and worked her way forward. I could tell that Mermaid was holding her breath the same way all the new articles of clothing from the past year were. I wanted to tell them it was stupid to worry so much. They had the least to worry about out of all of us. Owner wasn’t going to get rid of something she hadn’t even had for a year yet. My seven-year stance in the closet was living proof of that and LBD’s nine-year stay was even more comforting.
The bag remained bodiless as Owner walked passed Mermaid, LBD, and the dress owner had worn to homecoming as a high school freshman and hadn’t worn since. If she could keep things like that around, she would certainly keep me. Then again, Sparkles was in perfect condition and I was flawed beyond repair. As Owner inched closer, tossing in a few white blouses that knew what their fate was given that they couldn’t even button around Owner anymore. I still fit though. At least I think I did. It had been a while, but there was still room for growth the last time I was worn. That comforted me for a little bit, but I still found myself holding my breath like I was a newbie when owner stood in front of me.
Owner paged through the hangers, throwing them down the post they clung to so that one shirt ran into the next and barer bar was exposed. I was flicked down the row in the same quick, careless manner that slammed me into another T-shirt. A wave of relief came over me as I realized today wasn’t my day. I was going to be here for at least another year and not placed in the body bag with the ill-fitted blouses. Owner still wanted me.
Owner continued flipping through the T-shirts, getting to the end of the collection without adding any new additions to the body bag. I mentally applauded my groups success for Owner’s clear desire to keep us, but I let my guard down too soon. Owner flipped backwards through the shirts she had just gone through, bringing us all up to the block again. Before I knew it, Owner’s green fingertips were on me, blending in with the spots that I had gotten from the kitchen paint like we were two pieces of the same whole. Maybe Owner saw it too –how we fit together so perfectly even though she had forgotten me over the years. I could forgive her for all of that.
That was my last thought before she yanked me down from the hanger and stuffed me in the body bag in a motion so swift and unexpected that I didn’t even have a chance to cry out. I watched the patch of light fade from my sights as Owner tied off the body bag. I imagined Blue crying out for me, begging for Owner to bring back her friend. I could practically see Mermaid shaking her fish scales like she had just been pulled out of the pond and thrust onto the cutting board herself. I knew LBD would carry on like nothing had happened. She would probably say something sassy like how I brought this upon myself with the message the back of my shirt said: “No shoes, no shirt, no problem!” Now there was no shirt as I was dragged away from the only friends I had ever known into the world I still wouldn’t be able to see.
Poetry: My eyes are closed to the mirror
