2006-02-14
a word on the holiday
I walk up the stairs to my bedroom, and the hard wood is cold beneath my feet. The kind of cold that kind of resounds its way up and through me, even though the flesh on my feet is considerably thick.
I turn up the staircase to the next mini-set of steps before I am to pivot down the short hall that leads to my door. I am thinking for a moment there, briefly and randomly on the top of my head's fluffy cloud-like (though less divine) ceiling, about how the red shone on my right shoulder.
The bathroom light had come through the shower curtain, a transparent sanguine block pattern. The light penetrated onto my wet shiny shoulder. The little patch look like a gleaming hue of warmth. I went to touch it, and it was nothing.
The flippant thought leaves my head, the reminder of the illusion of warmth. It's gone, gone before I can really even effectively record and mention it like this.
So I'm looking out the window before I pivot up those next few steps. I have to draw back the sheath of curtain. Out there, the darkness is so prevalent and simple. But amidst it is the big luminescent moon, round and bright.
I like that they call the moon "full" when it gets like that. It's not just glasses of drinks that can be full; not only brooks may overflow.
I'm seriously thinking this as I'm looking up at it. And I feel like it's peering back down at me.
I'm thinking about how sometimes I feel so full. Full of.. Anything. Bullshit. Self-pity. Restlessness. Whatever.
But tonight it's the love. That seemed most apt considering the holiday, although that wasn't my train of thought.
Being so full of love.
So full you could literally just burst.
Today is the day that society officially and especially promotes romance. Holding hands, buying bouquets in that cheap plastic wrap stuff, burning CD's with sentimental songs and adorning the girl's neck with a new and beautiful piece of jewelry. A stuffed animal to be hugged in effigy; big, obvious, foil balloons.
I'm being observant here, not jaded or cynical. This is what it is.
It's love. It's awkwardness and cheesiness and expected and cliche and all the wonderful things inbetween. Natasha putting lots of blush on her pink, cherry cheeks, and boys dressed subtly in pink shirts, conscious of the date (get it? Date? Aha, hah.)
The moon is incredible. I'm thinking about how some people claim to see the sillouhette of a man's face in the craters, and I'm thinking about how awesome it would be if you saw the earth in the moon, if the craters and shadows formed the outline of the continents.
I didn't feel really special today. And I didn't expect to. I felt like me. I know I'm loved. It's encompassing me constantly, reflected in eyes so bright and glowing with the love. Thanks for looking.
I know there are people throughout the globe celebrating right now, and I think that's awesome. Because that's what you do on holidays, you celebrate.
I've been there. It was a wonderful experience, and I'd like for it again, when it next comes around to me. Patience isn't the right word to describe my approach in the lack of it, because patience implies waiting. And I'm not waiting for anything. But I don't pine and yearn like I once did, not right now. The moon, the bubble bath, they suffice. The red on my shoulder, even if the warmth isn't there like I thought it might be.
The red is elusive, but my favorite part is that it is omnipresent within me. I only need to hold my hand to my chest to be reminded. There is love there in each beat: for the world, for life and all it is, for self. The red is bloody lovely.
The moon is still so bright. So bright that it gets that incredible milky ring around its border, so bright that it's beaming outward and letting the bit of surrounding atmosphere bask in its brilliance. And that's what I hope I can do for other people, and that they can do for me.
I love being full of love. Even to the flux and strain, it is well worth it. All the different types of love. I love how Stacy scoops me extra when I go get ice cream. I love how my Mom calls me "Leesu" sometimes. I love how the snow crystals form on my windshield on a bitter cold morning. I love that Bahama bread at Petie's house. I love how I loved Vinnie, so very earnest and beautiful. I love that there are kids in the Sudan who laugh and smile and play. I love Julian, so very much. I love how my dad let me win at checkers all the time. I love when dogs woof at me. I love when you open a new jar of peanut butter and it's so smooth and untouched on top. I love lots of stuff. And I kind of think that we are what we love.
I didn't really have a Valentine this year, you know. And I still maintain that the most action I've gotten this year is the wind kissing my cheek on a cold winter's day. So when it comes to romance, I might be lacking a bit at the standards that society has set upon this day. But in all other forms... I got it covered.
So yup, the moon is bright. And the red on my shoulder wasn't really warm. But I'm going to finish walking up these stairs to my bedroom to go rest my head. People will be softly whispering to each other, not wanting to crush eggshells. A kiss will be soft and moist. But I'll go sigh and sleep, full of my love for all.
leesah-likes at 10:25 p.m.