Stratfordrain

I remember the story you told me
About the day you stood on the edge...

You stared down into the world below
And gave it one more chance...

And you said it was because of me
That you stayed awake in this life...

And I believed you
But didn't think to look you in the eyes

And I was there for you
To  help you through
But what if that was all I was meant to do
For you
Do you think its time
That our road unwind
And split off to their own destinations?
Or will you keep on playing my frustrations?

Well, hello again. It has been a long while. It is already the beginning of February in two thousand and ten. I'm sorry for the lack of posts. I was reading my other journal (theatreglory- note to myself, the password is the same as this. Not all the posts are public so log in for a trip down memory lane!) and chuckling slightly whilst feeling nostalgic for high school and the life that came with it. It basically encompasses a lot of my high school career. It definitely misses a bunch, but it still explains a fair bit of how my life was during that time. (Although I do believe it misses grade nine and a chunk of grade ten, I'm not sure). But I can sure say that as much as I thought it wasn't at the time, high school was a breeze. Now I have all these responsibilities crashing down on me with school and work and cars and money I get a tad overwhelmed. And now suddenly a very close friend of mine has completely changed her ways and is somewhat horrible to me. Its rather odd, but I believe she was jealous in the summer that I had gotten myself a man, and she was lacking in that department, and suddenly decided to hate my boyfriend....and now gone as far as disliking me behind my back, but being sweet as a peach to my face. I will not lie, it makes me ill. Luckily, I am old enough to realize that it doesn't matter. That in five years I probably won't even know her anymore, and if perchance I do, she will have calmed down. (I hope) Anyways, also upon reading my theatreglory account I have realized that I do not partake in the writing of poems and songs so much anymore and begin as of.....now:


Blue is the color that changes your ways
A summery tone that shifts in the days
Your smile alight
Your eyes shine so bright
And a blue that never fades

Blankets and stars cover the hill
A noise in the brambles will send us a chill
A squirrel and a tyger in the night
Mr. Blake you gave us a fright
But run away, we never will

A castle, a landmark and that color blue
A fantasy made just for me, just for you
Coffee and malt
Its no one's fault
That we took too many...no too few

Now that you're here
Now that you're gone
A noise that I fear
A light that shone

What would you do if the person you love might leave? Not just you, but this planet? As in pass away. I'm so scared for that to happen to me. To quote a Spill Canvas song "And he can't understand how everyone goes on breathing when true love ends" I don't know what I would do. I am in love. I thought I had been in love before, but now that I look back I think I was just comfortable. This is real, and the person I love has something physically wrong with his heart. I can't lose him, not now, and not ever. He is the one I want standing next to me until we are old. He is the one I want to see at the end of that aisle, beside his brothers and friends. We lay in bed the other night and cried for the opportunities we could miss if something was really wrong. He told me that if there is something wrong and he doesn't have long he wants to marry me before he goes. I told him I would want to have his child, so I would have something of him with me for the rest of my life. I want to remember this time in my life, just in case, so I remember being in love. I will make a list of memories that he and I share below:

-"_________" Horse. How we call each other angry horse, silly horse etc. because of the dream I had where a horse with a weird tongue was annoying me.
- Our nicknames. For me: punkin, sweet cheeks, baby. For him: scruffy head, speckles, boyfriend.
-The week my parents went away and we spent that whole time together.
-Our walks in Fish Creek park.
-The time we got lost in Fish Creek park
-Our walk in Carburn park
-Our weekend at his mom's in Sylvan lake where we cuddled, drank tea, kissed in the rain and in the wet fields, walked the town, went out for lunch and dinners and watched movies and played with kittens and had a fire. He also told me "If I could marry you tomorrow, I would"
-Crying for the loss of his dad
-Moving him from his dad's house into the basement suite we found him
-The time we spent on his deck at his house
-The days we called in sick to spend them together.
-Our walks to Glenmore landing
-Talking about our future together, planning children's names. (We like Drayton, Logan and Drake for boys and Rory for a girl)
-Going to the doctor/heart clinic

We've been through so much, I don't want it to end.


In other news, school starts again soon and I'm actually looking forward to summer's end.
More later.

Love,

stratfordrain.

I've found lately that songs will change the moods I am in. I can't help it. They do! Its depends on the flow, the lyrics, the harmonies, the melodies, what kind of instruments etc. I find myself feeling different and having different perspectives on situations in my life. I also find weird harmonic ties with nature as a song is playing. Confused? For example I was listening to "Secondhand Lovers"  by John Ralston (not the Canadian actor who plays in Life With Derek on the Disney Channel. Ha-ha!) and as the song progresses into the more melodic and less acoustic parts of the chorus I could feel the clouds thicken and move together to darken the sky in time with the movement from the verse to the chorus. I find these kinds of connections all the time. Am I crazy? Or do i simply get far too carried away into the music? Probably the latter, which means I shouldn't drive while being so in tune with music and nature and not with traffic. (Ha-ha).

Well anyways, writers block and a ringing phone are preventing anymore thoughts to flow into Live Journal today.
Drivers beware if I am on the roads listening to music!

Sincerely,

stratfordrain.

Our Rules.

1. Never Hurt Each Other.
2. Never Break Up.
3. Don't Die.
4. Go To Ireland.
5. Start Over.
6. Never Erase A Rule.
7. Save Each Other.
8. Never Cheat On Each Other.

Those are our rules. We made them over the course of our last month of dating. He has written them on a mirror in his house.
I'll be honest. They scare me a tad. But I am not going to let my fear of heart break or commitment get in the way this time. This may have been one of the many small things that possibly ended my last relationship. I am willing myself to not have that happen this time. I have changed since then. I have grown up, matured and tried to be a better person. The little fears still haunt me though, but I am willing to try my hardest to put them aside. For his sake and my own.

Today I bought some new articles of clothing. I like them.

I'm being serious right now when I say that is all I can say. This shall be classified as a lame post with a hint of writers block.
I'll be better next time.
I just had to get a few things down.

Have a great day/evening/night/morning where ever you are in the world.

Sincerely,

stratfordrain.

Upon reading the last of my two entries, I've discovered that while I am thoughtful, I am a complete melodramatic. But perhaps such melodrama in a mediocre life makes it more interesting? Perhaps not. Although now I have found someone to be in a relationship with so I am quite contented by my life at this point. Not that I need a male in my life to make me happy, because I don't. The last entries were only posted on the days where I was blue. On many other days I was contented with my life without any relationship status at all. But I am enjoying this relationship immensely. He is different than the others who I am used to dating. The guys that are fun, goofy and do things just for the hell of it. Carefree, I suppose could be used to describe them. Although he is carefree, it is with much restriction and a touch of sadness and loss that he goes about his being carefree. (Aren't girls so jealous of how carefree boys can be sometimes though? I know I am). But he lost his father about six months previous. And I can see it hurt him every single day, and I just feel so badly for him. But he is definitely a lot more responsible and less carefree than I'm used to, and I like it. He's not just some big goof who has no worries or cares, which makes for a hard relationship usually. He understands other people's feelings. He doesn't disregard them, and he is not ignorant to them. He is different, I will say again. And in a good way.

Other news in my life is almost non-existent. The summer is such a boring time. If it's possible, I would like to make the word boring a good thing. After a stressful and busy school year in college, the boredom of summer is a welcome break. Plus, my creativity usually comes back and I find myself in the throws of many good books, a ton of self-written songs and beginnings of stories, and my urge to keep learning guitar and piano on my own. It would possibly help to get a teacher or some such thing, but I enjoy doing things on my own.

My manager at work the other day told me I look young, but I have an old soul. I like that. It makes me feel a little more distinguished in my pre-adult life than a lot of other girls my age do. I try to portray a sense of responsibility, understanding and wisdom beyond my years. Not because I am wiser than I should be, but I do not like to feel like a silly teenager who gasps at a broken nail or a bit of gossip. Because I don't. I gasp when animals are killed, or when wars get out of hand, or when a friend has something terrible happen. Important things that should be gasped at. I feel like I am starting to sound pretentious. I am not. I still enjoy a good teenage drunk-fest and a ton of good laughs at nothing in particular. And if you get to know me, I may be the strangest bird you will have ever met. So I am definitely not an eighteen year old girl who acts thirty. I just like having deeper thoughts than what color flip-flops I am going to where with my white shirt. Although sometimes things like that do run through my head.

Anyways, happy almost summer to you all.
Enjoy,

stratfordrain.

Do you have those images stuck in your head? The ones that have been with you for a long time, and will probably be with you forever? Those moments in life where you see or feel or experience something that will forever haunt your memories, whether it be good or bad?
I do. I have a couple. I don't know why they all came to me today. Just probably a mix of the happiness coinciding with the sadness, and add in the rainy afternoon in May, and here I am. My first, most prominent one is one of my grandpa. It was about three summers ago now. My grandma was dying of lung cancer. All a week after we found out she had it. There was nothing we could do. Nothing anyone could do. It was heartbreaking, but I didn't really understand it at the time. I was about fourteen and I hadn't experienced death. Or the effect of a death on loved ones. The image stuck in my head is of me coming around the corner to the hallway where my grandma's room was. At the end of the hallway was a window, showing the sky. It was grey and drizzly out, at least the weather had enough decency to fit our moods. But I turned the corner and stopped because there was my grandpa standing looking out the window. I saw him turn, look into my grandma's room with tears in his eyes, and turn back to the window and with his right hand he made the cross on his body. The "Father, son and the holy spirit" cross from his forehead to his heart and to each shoulder. For some reason that image has haunted me ever since. It was so sad and sweet at the same time. They had been so in love. I should be so lucky to find that love in another person one day. I hope I do.

I thought I had, actually. Which brings me to another of those images.
He had been perfect and sweet, and we were so in love. I miss being able to say I love you, and mean it.
We were laying tangled on my couch one day, absorbed in each other. The day was grey, but beautiful. He looked at me, took the claudagh ring he had bought me for christmas off of my middle finger and placed it on my ring finger and said "I'm going to marry you one day". I never took the ring off of that finger after that day. And now, when I hear his name or see a picture or look at the clouds, I see that image. Its a hard one to bear, because he is still there. So near to me, but so very far away. It seems like light years have passed since we were together, and its only been six months.

I've been trying to fill his void with work, school, music, writing, my friends, and of course other boys. But none of them were right for me, like he was. But then I thought I'd found someone again. He makes me laugh, gives me butterflies, and is generous and kind. But he has another girl who he feels something for, and I feel like a second choice. I don't think that I should feel that way. How hard is it to find someone who cares for me, and only me?
I'm really lonely sometimes, but I have my family, and my friends. Its alright. But love is something that everyone is searching for. Its the most important thing there is, isn't it? Or have I gone totally off the deep end?

I want people to hear me, sometimes. My voice, my passion, my writing. But I can never finish anything. I always get new ideas and new thoughts and nothing ever gets completed, so it is kind of hard for my voice to be heard, when nothing I ever say is complete. I feel like I'm made up of a million different fragments that don't quite come together. Leaving me with bits and pieces of good things, but nothing that can be a whole.

Does anyone really get heard though? I mean, you hear someone's song. You like it, appreciate it, even relate to it. But are you hearing what they are saying really? Do you understand the meaning or pain or belief someone put into that song? Or do you love a song for selfish reasons, for reasons that will break you, save you or make you better. You. Me. Selfish right? Maybe we should all try listening to a song, or reading a poem or story for the writer or author. Try to understand how they are feeling, not ourselves. Maybe their art would be much more appreciated if we could love it for us, and for them you know?

But I am just rambling. Just writing as I go.

Till next time,

stratfordrain.