Sipping My Sorrows

I sat at a bar in downtown Chicago. I had lived in the city for ten years without a steady job since my arrival. I chose the life of an actor, but it did not choose me. I could barely pay my bills to my one-bedroom apartment which was the size of a closet. My boyfriend dumped me two months before because he wanted to date someone with a "real" job. I guess the starving artist girl was not his type. That afternoon before I went to the bar was the deal breaker. After auditioning for a show that I knew I was perfect for, I still did not get the job. Instead, the daughter of one of the producers got the role. I nailed the audition and callback, yet I did not have the right connections. After hearing the words "you didn't get it" from my agent hundreds of times, I was sick of living a life that left me sad and in a puddle of self-doubt. Here I was at a bar. I do not even drink, but I just wanted to be around a crowd of people, so I could avoid the voice in my head. Should I have picked this life? I used to love performing, but I was burnt out from the auditions and the subsequent denials. And, why did I date that jerk who did not appreciate me? I ordered a beer at the bar, but I had never even tasted one. I just wanted to fit in with the rest of the people at the bar and forget for a minute that I was not this actor who refrains from alcohol for health's sake. How do people live without regrets? I was not sure I chose the right career path. Maybe I should not have moved to Chicago. I definitely made the wrong decision to date that guy. The beer foam kept pouring onto the table as I got lost in my thoughts. I did not even want the beer. I just wanted fulfillment.

Rossi's bar
shutting the voice out
sip by sip

Old Wind Brings In a New

The past spring brought a very tough and unexpected break-up into my life that I was unequipped to handle. I spent the whole summer holed up in my house, binge-watching shows and not having plans. I was in a very low point, but knew that if I acknowledged this, it would only reopen the wound that I didn’t know how to heal. So, instead I suppressed my pain for months and just hoped for better. In the meantime, I was talking to an old friend that I saw a very new future with, but couldn’t fully commit to because of my unresolved ties to the one who broke my heart. When I came back to school and saw my ex again every day, I was stuck inbetween a place of longing and betrayal towards him that I also didn’t know how to deal with. I told myself that I wouldn’t date anyone for the whole year, that I would just be focusing on me. But really, I was saving that space in my heart for him, even though I knew that spot shouldn’t belong to him anymore. I should be over him; I should have moved on because I didn’t see or communicate with him at all for 3 months. But the mixed feelings still clouded every action I took. I knew that anything between us was more than done, but things hadn’t been wrapped up in a bow for me yet. My other friend came to visit, and although I confided in him more than I had with anyone ever before, my torn heart didn’t allow me open up the way I had with my ex-boyfriend. After months of persistence and genuine friendship from this new friend, he gave me a new reason every day to see myself worthy of love from outside and within. He made me realize that my old love could be special without being forever, and that my feelings are valid. With every sentiment that built me up, I slowly broke down that wall of pain that prevented me from moving on. In the midst of autumn, I let my old love go, with all of its joy and its pain, and I allowed a new wind to flow over me: the gentle breeze that would follow me for the rest of my life.

your tense jaw
the home where
my lips once lived

Till Morning Comes

Last Saturday, I went on an adventure with a guy and we hung out all night until the sun came up. We went on a two and a half hour walk and just talked about everything ranging from religion and faith to family and everything in between. We climbed a tree and watched the sunset and we actually came up with a few haiku in the tree, because that’s my quiet place and I shared it with him. It was actually super special because he said a poem to me and then I said one back, but anyway, I digress. After that, we continued to talk for hours until we realized that it was 8am and the sun had already risen. The entire evening was just so completely relaxed and comfortable that when the sun came up we didn’t even realize it until hours later. Looking into his eyes was like seeing little fireflies lighting up the night sky being the light I needed until the sunrise.

stars in his eyes
no need for the sun
to come our way

Snores Next to Me

I was in a relationship in high school that was far more serious than it should have been. Neither of our parents were involved in our lives or took care of us, so we basically moved in together when I was sixteen. Things got more serious to where we co-owned a car, helped each other with bills, etc. Obviously, this level of relationship was not appropriate for two teenagers. The stresses of our lives and our relationship ended up being taken out on each other. Neither of us treated the other well towards the end of our relationship. We broke up the day before I moved to Millikin. It was messy even though it was planned far in advance. It affected all of my friendships back home to the point that it ruined my winter break because I had no one to spend time with and felt very isolated. For the longest time, we fought afterwards about petty things. It was awful. We always said we were "on good terms," but it was like sticking a band aid on a cut that needed stiches. We never worked through anything. Eventually, we did talk and work things out and are genuinely on great terms. We have forgiven one another and admitted our faults. We acknowledge that everything that happened in our relationship was a mix of poor circumstances that neither of us handled well. This haiku made me think about how much I appreciate having her as a close friend that I could go to with any problem. She was one of the most important people in my life and I'm grateful that our friendship was able to be salvaged.

5AM chirping
a long night spent
talking about the past

Stay in Touch

I park my car and check the time on my phone then the text message, though I have already memorized the text conversation. “Let’s meet there at 4:15pm!” the text reads; the clock reads 4:05pm. I tap my foot nervously as I observe each car that pulls into the lot, but then I realize: I don’t know what her car looks like. I turn my air vent in my direction when I hear a ding. “Here!” the text reads. I feel my fingers begin to tingle as I open the car door and walk towards the coffee shop. I look around and see only strange faces until the door opens behind me. I turn and look at the face of a friend I once knew very well. She smiles and I instantly feel the weight in my chest vanish. We stand in line and make small talk, which is the most discussion we have had in years. Once we get our drinks, we sit and discuss what is going on in our lives. She mentions places we used to go together and people I know through her. I miss her family . . . I wonder if she misses mine. We talk about where we are both going to college and I find out that she is going to major in Mathematics; she’s going to be great that. Our conversation drifts to what happened between us. Why did she stop texting me back? Why did you say that about to our friends? What did I do? I give a sad smile and tears well up in her eyes as she vaguely tells me that she was going through a lot. Our cups were empty long before we stood up and walked out the door. I give her a hug and say we should stay in touch and she agrees. I tell her that I am really happy we did this and she agrees. We walk in opposite directions once again to our cars.

coffee shop
we talk for hours
like we used to

The Footsteps of Women

I love to travel. More specifically, I love to travel to places where things are old. During my sophomore year of high school, a little under exactly four years ago, I got the chance to travel to France over my Spring Break. We got to tour Paris, but my favorite was going through the Loire River Valley and Normandy. Walking through museums has always been a favorite pastime of mine, but I especially enjoy walking through locations that have been turned into museums. We went to Chambord—a palace with many chimneys and a double helix staircase which, when one individuals walks up one side, and another walks down the other, never directly see each other. I remember thinking it was one of the coolest pieces of architecture I had ever seen because we had access to the roof of the palace from that staircase, and could walk amongst the over 200 chimneys. I remember standing in one of the doorways. Now, I am not a particularly tall person, but I had to duck to ensure I did not hit my head on the door frame. That moment transported me to a time that, while I did not live it, made me feel out of place. I was a giant compared to the people who began to build this chateaux 500 years ago. Next was the Chateaux Chenonceau, and this one stood out for me because all of the private owners had been women. I have always been a feminist, and this chateaux made me feel powerful walking in, potentially, the literal footsteps of women such as Catherine di Medici. I love the feeling of walking through a place with so much history, such as these and other castles, palaces, and monasteries we toured while there. Especially coming from the United States where our oldest recorded history is a couple hundred years old, and I got to see glass in the windows of the Chartres Cathedral that was almost a thousand years old? I feel lucky. I just feel . . . lucky to have shared an experience with both the people that lived that history as well as other tourists who have come to pay tribute to it. Especially with that glass. I mean, modern science cannot replicate that brilliance of blue, and that color has survived two world wars, and almost a thousand years of weather. There is no other feeling quite like seeing a stone cathedral weathered by time, weather, and human traffic. The stone gets a soft texture to it—the rounded edges, it even lightens in color. Yet it is still standing, a tribute to all of the history it has seen. Just . . . wow.

seven women decide
their own fates
gardens flourish

Early to Bed

A girl in a single studio apartment turns on some music and starts dancing around alone starting to ready. It is a Friday night and she is feeling good. She plugs in her curling iron and starts to give herself a new look. She has new clothes on that she hasn't been able to wear out yet and she's excited. She puts on a fresh face of makeup and gives herself a little spray of that expensive perfume he got her a couple months back. She's a little sad because it makes her think of him but she has to move on. She stops to look in the mirror and feels good about herself and her style. She texts her friends asking what the plans are for the night because she's ready to go out and have fun. After a few minutes, two of her friends reply, "Hey sorry we have a double date planned tonight." The next friend replies "Hey sorry I can't make it tonight!" The pattern repeats and her confidence slowly and slowly starts to diminish. She takes off her clothes and slips into a sweatshirt and shorts. She passes the mirror again but this time it's different. "Jokes on you" she tells the pretty face looking back at her in the mirror. She thinks about texting him . . . instead she decides to call it a night and head to bed early, by now she's used of it.

maybe this time
it'll be different
maybe

Gloves Too Big

I remember my sisters and I playing outside in the snow. One year we got a really good snow, one that stuck around for more than a couple of days, and we spent a lot of time outside playing it: making snowmen, going sledding, having snowball fights, etc. When we were younger, we would always get super excited when it snowed like this because my dad would take us tubing behind his snowmobile in the field behind our house. One time when he took us snow tubing, I fell off and ripped one of my gloves, so when we got back to our house, my dad gave me his snow gloves to wear. I was probably eight or nine at the time, so the gloves were way too big for my hands and extended all the way up to my elbows. My sister threw a snowball at me, and since my gloves were so big, I basically had to use them like a shovel because the fingers were pretty much useless.

looking out the window
fresh white snow
blankets the dark evergreens

MIRROR

The creamy marble countertop is marred with streaks of brown. I gently dab at them with wet tissue, it spreads and runs across the counter into the sink. I look up, making eye contact with someone in the mirror that I don't quite recognize. This girl has blue eyes, like me, but they're more grey than mine. They're cloudy, like there's a barrier between her and the world. Her hair is slicked back and dark, hair dye leaks onto her forehead and ears. I raise my hand, as she does. I watch as she wipes at her forehead until the skin becomes clean again. Of course this girl is me, but she feels light years away. This girl just graduated high school, she just received her driver's license, she left the boy who wanted to give her the world. These things feel like stories that I watched on TV as a child, as I imagined what it would be like to be 17 and on top of the world. The girl in the mirror has a tear falling down her cheek. I reach up and wipe it away. She's missing her childhood. But she also was going places. She had so many good things going for her. She's going to be great. I turn around and begin to run the bathwater. I wait until it warms, I kneel down and stick my head under the faucet. I watch as the water becomes murky, swirling down the drain. The girl in the mirror watches as we become one.

red autumn leaves
marked with black mold
i grow up

The Usual Lap

I am fortunate enough to live in a beautiful place. My town has a little bit of everything with a pretty good balance of city and nature. There is an old, historic, preserved house in my neighborhood that used to be owned by a prominent Mayo Clinic doctor. The house has a really beautiful lower garden, complete with fountains and an over look of the city. It is usually my destination when I go for walks in my neighborhood. I have a memory from my senior year of high school. I had finally finished all of my college auditions and had gotten home from my last stop in Elon, NC. It was late March, so still pretty cold in Minnesota, but the snow was melted and the sun was warm. We decided to take a walk around the neighborhood to the gardens.

This is a nice memory because I had just felt an incredible sense of relief from finishing my auditions. I hadn’t yet been rejected from anywhere. That came later. I was completely at peace with where I was. The results of my auditions were not up to me anymore. I had a sense of relief from burden. I remember that there weren’t many flowers blooming in the garden because it was still so cold. Another round of frost and snow probably even came later that week. The grass and the ground were soft and muddy from melted ice. We were probably slipping in a bit of mud, but we didn’t care. We just took our usual lap around the garden, filled with contentment.

good dog
I’ll never see
again

Morning Rush

Mom and I are extremely close. Not only that, but we look so much like each other that people have thought that we were sisters. I remember mom and I getting ready together in the morning. In her bathroom there's a double sink with a long countertop, so there's always multiple people getting ready for the day at one time. I will still be doing my hair as mom gets out of the shower, and she never fails to say, "you're gonna have to move over! I continue to get ready as she continues her daily routine—brushes teeth and hair, blow dries, flat-irons hair, etc. As we look in the big mirror together, she makes fun of the fact that she is tanner than me—of course it's a competition every summer to see who can get tanner. Joke's on her—I won this time. Mom asks me to do her eyeshadow, and I say no. We light-heartedly bicker until I, per usual, give in. As we finish up getting ready, she looks in the mirror for about a minute and shakes her head. Of course, I know what she's thinking--she can't believe how much we look alike. Leave it to my mom to finish off by saying, "how did you get so lucky to look just like me? I laugh, shake my head, and leave for work.

Mom's caramel brown hair
still time for soft giggles
in the morning rush

Internet Infatuation

Kristen Duggins, a 16 year old popular socialite with her freshman pals, was always hit on by the hottest guys at the school. Many of them were seniors, so they were a year or two older than her, but this age gap wasn't enough for Kristen. She didn't know why, but she was into college guys. Her friends always dared her to go for the older guys, saying that they had more money and would treat her better. Being from a small town without a college, Kristen often turned to online dating sites to try and meet her expectations of the perfect guy. One night, as Kristen is roaming the site, she sees him. A brown-haired, green-eyed hunk named Adam flexing in a mirror selfie, looking like the perfect victim to Kristen. She messages him immediately, and he messages back a few minutes later. The two hit it off, talking into the wee hours of the morning until Kristen's mom makes her go to bed. From the incredible conversation, Kristen is hooked. She knows he's the one. Kristen makes a pattern of going to school, going shopping with her friends, and then rushing home to talk to Adam until the early hours of the morning. They never miss a night talking to each other. After messaging back and forth for about 2 weeks, Adam suggests that he and Kristen meet in person. Kristen is nervous about the idea, but believes that Adam is a good guy from the conversations they've had. They set the date. March 2nd. They're gonna go to dinner. Kristen is ecstatic. The day arrives and Kristen tells her mom that she'll be spending the night at her friend Haley's house and jets off. She takes a metro bus three towns over, where Adam says he goes to college. Kristen gets off of the bus around 8 pm . . . and can't find Adam in the metro lobby. She roams a little before messaging him. He tells her he's in a gray van in the far corner of the parking lot and to come meet him. Excited, Kristen skips over to the van and walks up to the driver side door. Beaming, she looks into the window.....and sees a man. An old man, with a scruffy brown-gray beard, glasses, and not the same green eyes of "Adam's that she had been staring at in pictures. As she turns to walk away, thinking maybe it was the wrong van, cold lanky arms wrapped around her and yanked her into the van. She tried to pry the hands from around her, but was just pressed down into the van floor with a hand over her mouth. There were 4 guys in the van, including "Adam in the front seat. What Kristen endured that night was horrific, and she was held captive and forced to endure it over and over again for 6 years. In the first year or so of captivity, Kristen prayed every night that someone would come rescue her, but in the latter years Kristen had succumbed to the physical, psychological, and emotional abuse she endured. Kristen had always been held captive in a secluded attic with only one small skylight. In her 6th year of captivity, at 22 years old, Kristen wanted nothing more than to die. She wanted to be put out of her misery. She could no longer pray. She had lost all hope. But on a particularly cold night, maybe somewhere in January, Kristen just sprawled on her cot, staring at the tiny skylight, with dried tear marks covering her face, and she saw something. She stood to try and get a closer look. And then she saw it. A falling star. It made her think of a song she sang with her father when she was little . . . when she felt down . . . and helpless. She strained to remember the tune, humming rogue notes softly. It was a sign. She knew then she needed to fight . . . to live . . . to survive . . . To Be Continued.

ray of hope
my looking glass
blinds me

Pursuit of Happiness

Maria was a girl that grew up in Chicago. She loved the city lights, the buzz of the town, and going to explore the wonderful museums. She was enrolled in a private school, and her parents had plans to support her all the way through college, and expected her to attend medical school, just like her father. Her parents were very strict—Maria could only go out until 10 om every night, and her parents would even withhold her from going to school dances, because she was supposed to be focusing on her future, not things that are temporary.

Maria became very upset at her parents. She felt as if no one lived this type of life. One night, she snuck out, hopped in her car, and just drove. She drove and drove and drove. She drove for 10 hours straight, until her car broke down next to a field in Kansas. She had to call a local mechanic, and when he showed up, her jaw about dropped to the ground. The mechanic was a beautiful, tall boy with dark hair and eyes. He told her everything was going to be okay, and introduced himself as Alex.

It turned out that Alex too had run away from his parents. All he wanted to do in life was design cars, but his parents wanted him to go to college. They did not ever support Alex and his aspirations to design automobiles. So, Alex and Maria developed a bond that they had never had with anyone else. They spent a wonderful month with one another, away from their parents and away from their old lives. They decided to elope, and did so within the beautiful golden fields of Kansas. And they took on their new lives together, in search of true happiness.

golden fields of grain     I treasure your smile the most

Back Home

In highschool I would often go out for the night and come back in the morning after staying at one of my friend's house. I would be dog tired from the evening before that I was ready to go home. However, when I got home, usually the house was empty which was bizarre because I live with 6 people. The first thing I would normally do is call my mom and ask where she was which was usually with my brother at a game or at practice. My dad would be at work, my sister at school, and my Uncle Jason who knows where. Although it was weird nobody being home and I always went out of my way to figure out where everyone was, it was these moments I cherished. Coming home from a night filled with activity I was always socially drained and loved having this time to recharge myself. I would take my time and make breakfast and relax and do what i needed to get done without any disruptions. These moments were blissful and it was always nice everyone being home and of course going out in the evenings, I secretly looked forward to these alone time moments.

hardly a rest on labor day
when I get home
the homework

Gray Marriage

There were betrayals, infidelities and heartaches, but at the end of the day they always came back to each other. This couple was fighting constantly. Fighting about the little things, like where to go for vacations, what the kids should wear, how the table should be set, and went to bed almost every night angry at the other, but at least they were together. They had trouble staying faithful to one another. They would get in a fight over proper dishwashing methods, which lead to an argument about work ethic and contribution, and the wife would go blow off steam at the bar and spend the night somewhere else. The next month, the husband would have a little too much to drink at a work function and end up in the back room with Stacy from accounting. But they always returned to each other. They were married for 56 years before the husband passed. On his deathbed, they did not speak of the many moments of betrayal that lay between them. They had a mutual understanding and bond over the situation. The husband passed and only then does the regret of the wife begin to set in. She realizes that she missed bickering over the dishes or the trash, and the mystery and romance is lost from her life. In the end, she always cared about him and loved him.

curtains sway in the wind
knocking over
the yellow flowers

Cheetah Sisters

I am incredibly fascinated by children. I love watching them and seeing the way that they process things. So of course, what better place to watch children than at the zoo! The zoo is such an exciting and stimulating place that children are automatically ten times cuter at the zoo than any other place. My little sister is 7 years younger than I am and we took her to Disney World when she was about 5 years old. We were at Animal Kingdom and we were on the safari ride which takes you through a literal safari and you see lions, giraffes, zebras, alligators, etc. This child could not believe her eyes. The wonder in her eyes and the excitement when she spotted an animal far out in the distance was indescribable. She was just giggling and talking throughout the entire trip. After the ride was over, she wouldn't stop talking about it, the whole rest of the day that is all she talked about. Once we got home, people would ask her about Disney World and that was the ride she told them about. I just find it really interesting how excited they get and how much curiosity children have at the littlest things. Their drive to learn and hunger for knowledge is inspiring to me.

her eyes lit up
when she spotted
the cheetah

Open Hand

The stars are not the only things that come to light when the sun goes down. Thousands of fireflies emerge from the wildflowers, floating through the open air, twinkling even brighter than the stars. That's what he showed me when he first said he loved me.

I had never seen them before—the fireflies, that is. When I told him, he immediately took my hand, pulling me out to his car and telling me to get in. We drove for a while, riding through fields and over hills, taking backroads I had never even heard of. He sat silently the entire ride, focused on the winding roads, watching as the sun began to set on the horizon before us. Just when I thought we would drive forever, he stopped the car, quickly parking and hopping out. He appeared beside the passenger-side door, opening it slowly and taking my hand, guiding me up and out into the field. Still silent, he led me into the soft grass, glancing to me occasionally with a sweet smile. "Here," he murmured, a hand floating to my lower back as he sat me down beside him. We waited there, hands held gently together atop of his knee as I gazed around, waiting for the beauty that would soon unfold before me. Then, as soon as the last sliver of sun had descended beneath the heavens, they began to rise—hundreds, thousands of little blinking bugs flew up from the field around us, dancing through the skies. I watched in awe as they floated past, some even brave enough to land upon my crossed legs. I felt a nudge and turned back, finding him with his hands cupped before me. When he opened them, the brightest of fireflies flew out from his grasp, flying right past my eyes as I followed its path.

"I love you," he murmured, and I turned immediately back to him. My eyes were wide, and his were filled with light. He loved me . . . it was as if I had known all along, yet not at all.

"I love you, too," I smiled, my hand resting softly on his chest. It was then that he kissed me, and it was unlike any kiss we had shared before. Somehow soft yet breathtaking, fragile yet secure.

As we lay back into the Earth, held in each other's embrace, he spoke again. "Shall we die together?" he whispered, breath warm against my ear.

Yes, I thought to myself. And we shall spend eternity among the stars.

late night drive
and whispers of
I love you

Rain Rain Go Away

This haiku reminded of me playing at my daycare center as a kid. We had a playground and field outside that we would play on every day. Obviously, when it would rain, we had to play inside. I remember playing inside, playing board games or reading or watching a Disney movie, while it poured on our grass field and plastic slides. As soon as it stopped raining, we would rally together to convince our teachers to let us go outside. The wet ground and mud did not bother us. Our adorable pleas and begs did not always work, but when they did, we played with more enthusiasm than ever. We sometimes had to wipe down the plastic playsets with rags before playing, but we did not care. If it rained all day and playing outside was not an option one day, the next day we were more excited to play outside than ever.

tiny rainboots
bursts of laughter
splashing puddles