Ode to the Big Blue Bus

Dear Big Blue Bus,

I am a proponent of taking public transit whenever possible.  I became jaded by owning a stick shift vehicle and having to commute cross town to Santa Monica on a daily basis.  But then, there was you.  I was so happy that I’d found you.  My one way of being able to get to work and have a bit of extra time to relax, read, and not have to deal with the droll of traffic on the 10 freeway.

My savior came about with the same name as that stretch of dreaded asphalt.  It was the rapid 10 Big Blue Bus from dowtown all the way to Santa Monica.  At first, these days, they were glorious.  But then time would change.  The drivers would change.  The schedules… are now about about to change.

I remember standing on the bus last week and seeing the signs literally and figuratively that my days on the Big Blue were potentially coming to a close.

On the way to work on the 10 going westward at approximately 830am, I boarded the Big Blue as per my normal routine at the 11th and Grand stop.  As we navigated towards the freeway, I witnessed a mother and her child of approximately 16 or 17 years old wanting to board at a stop.  The bus driver stopped and let the mother in but pulled away as the daughter ran to board.

“Stop!  My daughter needs to get on the bus!”

Bus driver: “Your daughter should have ran faster.”

The bus driver did eventually stop and let the girl on, but the experience as a passenger was dreadful.  Why was this person allowed to navigate a public bus and interact with the public?  What does it show about you Big Blue Bus?  A lot I must say.  A lot.

When I sat on the bus I saw more.  The signs, she read, were that of a piggy bank “Change goes here.”  and another of the Big Blue “Not here.”  At first, even working in marketing, I didn’t understand what was trying to be said.  Were they going to take away the ability to pay for the bus with coins?  What were they trying to say?

There was a note that said the bus routes would be changing.  I didn’t think to really look at the time.  I just wanted to get to work.  Little did I know that I was not going to be happy when I read the route changes.  But that comes later.

The bus route Eastward was originally coming every 45 minutes.  Now it seems it’s possibly every hour if not more.  I remember the days when I would run out the door of work at 630 hoping to catch the 645 bus at Wellesley and Santa Monica near my favorite board game emporium.  Nowadays I will see the number 1 bus drive by at least 3 times, and empty, before one edition of the nearly always crowded rapid 10 comes to bring me home.

Thursday I walked into the store as per usual to waste the few minutes before the bus came.  I pulled myself aside from the miniatures painting and headed to the stop to wait for the bus that seemed like it would never arrive.  It didn’t get there until nearly 745.  By the time that I finally arrived home, the kitchen for the catering business below my abode had nearly closed.

The express 10 bus is just one of the routes that was approved by the Santa Monica council that will be changed on August 28, 2011.  A total of five current routes will be affected with the changes.  One additional downtown route will be added that will only be available during morning peak hours of  7am to 10am and night peak hours of 3:30pm to 7:30pm.

Big Blue’s site shows a comment regarding the proposed changes, stating: “These changes will allow us to provide the most service to the most people while maintaining a balanced budget this year,” said Stephanie Negriff, director of transit services for the Big Blue Bus. “We’re pleased that as a result of effective research and outreach, we’ll be a better bus service without any negative impacts to this year’s operating budget or fares.”

As a citizen that commutes cross town to reduce my carbon footprint, and uses this as my only real way of getting to and from work everyday, my disdain and sadness for the Big Blue grows more and more as the days roll by.  I think about the others that will be affected.  I ponder the thought used to make these decisions, especially on the one major connection route that services the downtown to the west side.

Are the days I ride the Big Blue really coming to a close?  If things keep up like this, I fear it may be.  Both the stop where I pick up the bus and the one where I’m to be dropped off to catch my connecting bus are to be eliminated.

If you make it difficult for a consumer to come to your city on public transit, is it reasonable to expect less money to go into the city coffers? Is this a ploy to keep the “riff raff” out of the West side?   What’s your take on it?  Big Blue Bus and Richard Bloom are you listening?

Signed,

One concerned citizen who’s just trying to go to work everyday

Carmageddon: The Aftermath

Dear Los Angeles,

So I see you that have survived the feared inferno of “Carmageddon”. You rocked the happy hour specials. You steered your four wheeled vessels clear of the freeways in fear of losing your ever so precious time sitting parked on the freeway for hours upon hours.

You chose to not clutter the streets with aggravation. For a few glorious days, there was a silent peace decorated on asphalt. People were drawn in droves to the otherwise bickered about public transportation. There wasn’t arguing with the hurried commuter in the other car, bike, or motorcycle trying to get to x function. There were no stretched necks as accident after accident piled up to make the drive home from work, play, or errands a little longer. There was less noise and pollution.

The 405 is opening as I type this. It bids one to wonder if the community has learned anything from this exercise. How will the Los Angeles community change? How have you changed for the greater good?

Los Angeles once had the greatest public transit system in the world. Nowadays, people dread the thought of taking a bus, a train, or a bike in lieu of a car. This weekend proved that the community here is so ambivalent to change that, rather than embrace the possibilities of other alternatives, would rather just not participate at all.

This weekend Los Angeles biker community advocates Wolfpack Hustle embarked on a 40 mile race against an airline proved the power of the human versus the machine. In a race won by pedal pushers that generated substantial buzz, why are the Los Angeles bike paths lacking in comparison to other major metropolitan cities?

Now that Carmageddon has come and gone, as a business person, are you going to take heart the relief and production capabilities of a happier worker that has not had to “deal” with traffic for one day? Are you going to provide more of an incentive to take public transit?

As a regular commuter are you going to make a more proactive attempt to take public transit when you can? Will you take an extra few minutes to walk down the street to that cafe for brunch or the extra few blocks to the grocery store?

It’s time the community took a big look at the bigger picture. We have the power to carve this city into something greater if we unify ourselves. Time is a precious commodity but so is a calmer, healthier way of life. Instead of putting one in front of the other, perhaps both are capable of happening. Dare to be a part of the change.

Like its 1999

Ok, so I was one year off but I didn’t get invited to my Junior prom either.  Hell my Senior Prom was spent with my first love hanging out at his house until a horde of friends crashed it.  There was a multitude of reasons why I didn’t end up going to prom:

• It cost too much to go (oh the joy of dating broke artists even back then).
• I wasn’t asked.
• I was asked but my date flaked.
• Etcetera.

So high school was a bust as far as prom.  But what about the countless other Proms thereafter?  Frankly the same things as I already stated happened.  But more so, I wasn’t invited even though I knew about the events.  

This year has been… a complete change.

The LA Derby Dolls are hosting a prom tonight and for the first time ever I will be attending a prom.  Today after work I’ll be going home to primp and prepare for a Rock vs Rap themed prom.  At nearly 30 this feels a bit silly to be so excited about.

E3 2010: A week to remember… and forget?

Traffic jams and riots.  A center filled with flash, glitzy signs… and hordes of nerds.

Welcome to E3 2010: the Lakers are in game 7 edition.

I watched the downpour of exclamations for the latest and greatest toys of the moment on various twitter and facebook feeds.  I checked up on the news on some of my favorite (perhaps biased) news outlets.

Strangely enough, with the exception of that first day, I really didn’t care as much about weather I’d be able to attend or not.  The thrill of E3 just wasn’t what it used to be.

I thought about it and wondered- what changed?  At one time I was so determined to go to as many events as I could.  Nothing would satiate my palate.  Events that I was told I couldn’t get into?  I didn’t take no for an answer.  I’m bad with no’s sometimes.  This- one of the most major conferences of the year would have been a given that I wouldn’t accept that.   Was it that I had just become numb from one too many?  I mean, I have been to quite a few…

I swear I'm not an addict...

There are a few conferences a year which rank up there in high importance to me: professionally and personally.  Last year I was told I would not get into 2 of them: E3 and E4all only to somehow find a way.  I honestly didn’t expect it this time.  It just… well sort of found me.  It is a happenstance that has been occurring quite a bit these past few months.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy I was able to attend- albeit only a day and for miscellaneous parties on time in between work and well, more work.  It was more than enough.

This year is the first in many that I was not attending as Press.  Instead, it was a covert operation made possible by one fellow Culver City crusader as I played the part as someone… in town from Turtle Beach.

Walking the halls of the Staple Center this year was a window into my past.  I barely work in gaming nor have I been penning as a journey from the sidelines currently.  I have been swallowed whole by a different world and popped right back again.

It’s the wee hours of the morning at my last day of contract work for a toy company with a small MMO in beta- and in the silence of the office, I’m left to think about the proceeding days off and into the world of my past.

It seems that this time of year is an intersection.  This year, however more than others.  But we’ll dig deeper into why later.

People from all over the globe come together to this spot.  Like many other conferences, the attendees share a passion.  Fundamentally this is one that has been something that holds a very special place in my heart.  It is one of two most prominent forms of entertainment for me since childhood: video games and comic books.

I arrived late.  A meeting with a client after a very full night out to a couple of parties the night prior had me on a bit of a later start that I had planned.  Add to that the extra chaotic parking fubar of a big city full to the brim.

I got lost in the city.  I don’t know how that’s possible considering I’ve been here nearly 3 years but it happened.  It has happened quite a bit since I’ve lived here but given that it’s a huge convention center it’s a bit of a stretch even for me.

I’d gotten lost the night prior as well.  After being accompanied to find my car by one who claimed to know the way but apparently had too many free drinks at the Cheap Ass Gamer after party at the Golden Gopher I ended up in an area not my home.  I am positive it was not from the amount I imbibed.  I have been cutting back considerably and only had a couple of beers despite it being open bar.  It was peculiar.  This month has been full of moments like these:  of journeys and arrivals to destinations unknown.

My cohort greeted me.   I would assume this alter ego as I walked the halls with the rest of the entourage.  I met up with my best friends from Fantastic Forum.  But my day was mostly spent with the crew of Angry Bananas.

The boys showed me the ropes of what had been missed of the con so far.  Luchadores. Epic Mickey. Move. The new dance game.  The Comic game.  Marvel vs. Capcom.

And as much fun as I had while walking around, I still found myself somewhere else.

E3 has been a week where I will see people and get messages from my past.  Failed lovers.  Secret affairs.  Near romances.  Friends from past lives.  Of people known digitally from cross country and halfway around the globe.

It is a time where I remember where I have been.  Of the collection of people both good and bad I have had in my life.  How they’ve effected me.  How they have colored the canvas.

I was only there one day but it was enough.

To the lovers I have had in the past.  To my former coworkers.  To the people I have met along the way…

Thank you.

This hasn’t been the easiest time for me.  It’s a test.  I am breakable.  But I am capable of being repaired.  Time and time again.

Time and time will pass again.

And while not all of my intersections this year brought up the best of memories, I feel stronger because of them.

I’m looking forward with anticipation of the unknown… of next year and the next conference and the other miscellaneous destinations that I arrive and exit along the way.

It may just be stuff but its fun stuff

Convo with a friend as he’s helping me move the last bit of stuff into storage this past weekend:

HE: Um.. why the hell do you have tiki torches? You don’t have a lawn.
ME: because I’m awesome?

5 minutes later…
HE: Um… a china man hat? What are you raiden?
ME: Never can tell.

5 minutes later…
ME: Oh my wings! I was wondering where those were!
HE: Ok I’ve stopped being surprised now. I’ve just come to the conclusion that you are weird.

Summation:
Sanity is a fun thing to entertain sometimes. And to a degree, I aspire to be very boring. And while this stuff I carry around is just STUFF… I live for the day my kids are sifting through it laughing and smiling about what a fun time I had when I was alive.

Tale of a 5 second vagabond

Today I called a girl I met at a party last summer that is a vagabond.  In my “interviewing” of her she could tell that I was a journalist.  I questioned her about her journey.  I told her a little bit about my story… about feeling the weight of all of this wonderful junk.  What better way to learn something about freedom than from someone who is living a life free of all of that weight.

I asked her how long she had been doing it.

- She’s been living that way for 4 years now.

I asked her if she got tired of that lifestyle.

- She wasn’t.

I asked her if it was worth it.

- She said absolutely.  That she enjoyed how her story was truly unique.  She said she learned a lot about herself and other people- combined and separately.

I asked her if she’d ever found a place that felt like “home.”

-She hadn’t.  She said she saw much of the US and the world but hadn’t had that feeling.  She’d come close but not quite there.

I asked her a lot of questions but what struck me the most was when I asked her this one: What would happen if you fell in love with someone?

-She replied that she believed this would be the time that she stopped vagabonding.  This was all she ever wanted.  This was what deep down she was seeking.

And then… I realized something:

I don’t think I’ll be vagabonding.

I have everything that I could possibly want… everything that I could possibly dream of… right here.

And while it’s not completely all set and perfect, it’s more than most have.  Roots are a treasured commodity of the heart and of the mind.

I have to shed this artificial crap thats holding me back.  When I lighten the load, the rest of the journey will go much smoother.  If you’re going to pack heavy for your trip, pack it in your heart.

I have to fight for this.

I have to make it work.

Why?

Love.

I keep waking up to these dreams about it… and I know that I can make them my reality.

Visualization.

The white room.

I will fight for this.

I will make it work.

Reply

Oh but a lady never tells… everything m’dear Names are rarely relevant (though this star eyed pair have…)

Absence of color.
Sparks.
But one shade of something “fake” yet so real it makes you…
something something.

This will probably make little sense beyond nonsense to… but if in the know, and well, you will know if you are, it will land on a chord that few know how to play. Fore Cinderella’s Mr. Midnight clothed himself in a fasade that nothing matters…
Always put together.
Always wearing that same nonuniform.
Always going to that same bar.

Always. Always. Always.

Routines.
Entrances.
Exits.

When he arrives, you may fight it at first… a girl has to know better than to care about this one, even in the slightest. But at that point it may already be too late.

“I don’t belong to you.” He told her.
“I know.” she said.
And in her mind said the same thing aloud.
Were they lying to themselves? Or did they just not belong to even themselves?
“We’re in the same place.”he said.
And in her mind she said the same thing aloud.

…This can’t be happening.

Names are rarely relevant (though this star eyed pair have…)
He is the Mickey to her Mallory.

Absence of color. Sparks. And but one shade of something “fake” yet so real it makes you… something something.

No. No No.

“I want to bring you somewhere.”
Road trips. Mixtapes.
“Don’t do that.”he said.
“Don’t do what?”
“I am just going to fall in love with you.”

This will probably make little sense beyond nonsense to… but if in the know, and well, you will know if you are, it will land on a chord that few know how to play. Fore Cinderella’s Mr. Midnight clothed himself in a facade that nothing matters…

“Are all of your friends going to watch me?”
“He’s looking out for me.” she told him.
“That’s a good thing.”

Always put together.
Always wearing that same nonuniform.
Always going to that same bar.

Always. Always. Always.

One morning trying something different. One left turn.
We are exactly where we should be.

“We’re in the same place.”he said.
And in her mind she said the same thing aloud.

…This
can’t
be
happening.

When random becomes…

“Why are you introducing me to all them?”
“Because you’d fit in. You’re one of the tribe.”

Routines.
Entrances.
Exits.

.Jena Red.

Absence of color. Sparks. And but one shade

.Mr. Midnight.

of something “fake” yet so real it makes you…

This will probably make little sense beyond nonsense to… but if in the know, and well, you will know if you are, it will land on a chord that few know how to play.

Tipped cups. Sunrises. Sunsets. Sunrises again.

Oh but it all started at Midnight. With one reply. One smile. And one more left turn.

“Don’t do that.”he said.
“Don’t do what?”
“I am just going to fall in love with you.”

When he arrives, you may fight it at first… a girl has to know better than to care about this one, even in the slightest. But at this point…

And he plays his guitar as

I sit there cross legged in front of him and look in his eyes… and I know this will probably make little sense beyond nonsense.. but when you know, and well you will know if you know, it lands on a chord that few have known how to play.

2010: The Greatest things you learn will be from…

This past year has been a journey for me.  It has been one that has not been without its share of life lessons.  But I have learned so much from it and from the people that I have encountered along the way.

I have learned some very important things about relationships- of platonic, family, and romantic.

For my first post of this year I think it’s a great thing to write these things down to share with you.  You see, this blog has been an outlet for me to voice how I have felt, but one thing that I have learned the most is how important it is to listen.

When you shut your mouth and take steps back, you get a view of a much bigger piece of the canvas that is life.

People are intricate beings.  We can learn much from each other.  Each person has gifts to share with the world.  Shut up and listen.  You’ll learn when you should speak up when it’s time.  Don’t worry you will have your turn.  but give other people the floor first.  It is then that you can optimally share what you have.  Collaborate with others to make something bigger, greater, stronger.  Attack the wold like a pack of wolves.  There is a reason they say that there is strength in numbers.  This is not to say that you should not look out for number one first.  It is about balance.

We are given the privledge of feeling moments of levity and darkness.  Are these products of our enviornment?  Yes and no.  Self accountability and the balance of listening, proactivity, patience, and time…. time really is so integral.

I have lost so much time in my own selfishness.  In this, I have also learned that sometimes selfishness is important. In your darkest hour, there is no one in the room but you.  Stick to the goal.

A person should always be choosy of whom they associate with.  Surround yourself with optimistic and vibrant people.  Watch how much that canvas takes shape and even lights up.

Treat every single person as if they are a gift, because they are.

There is positivity around you everywhere. It is not as abysmal as you may think.

Never stop learning, growing, and loving.

There are things in this world that are so much greater, tangible, real, and worthwhile that are worth investing your time in.  While money can make the road easier, it is not the end all, be all of things.  The best kept secret is that the best investments you can make are the people in your life.  They will help push you towards unbelievable things.  Weather it’s yourself, a significant other, a child, or a friend.

There is a song that helps me get through tough times.  The lyrics have pushed me through so many hardships in my life.  In times where I found that I needed no one but myself.  In times where I knew that it was only me that would make things perfect, even if they weren’t completely perfect.

Always Find a Way

The greatest thing you learn will be from yourself. The words you speak will come from no one else. All you believe is in your soul. All you see you can’t control. You thought you knew what it meant to live your life innocent. You listened when I had nothing to say. You listened ’cause I never had to pay for my crimes, it’s my time. So I think I made up my mind. From now on it’s all gone, but I wil never seem to say what I know, ’cause I feel I will always find a way. What I need to do is what I need to do. Try and get myself back down to the ground, without a scratch. Throw away the match, don’t even stop, walk to the top, ’cause who we are is not what I see. We need a love to hold us high, above the sky to feel the light, to see what’s right. If one thing changed it was me, I just wanted to be free. And I’ll always find a way.

The relationships you build today are the foundations for where you are headed tomorrow.  Make each connection count.

Listen.

Learn.

Love.

Give.

You will be surprised how much you will receive when you only give.

It is only then that things will work out.  Things have a way of working themselves out.  We may not always see it when it’s happening, but it’s true.

Here is to a year focused and determined to launch greater ideas, build stronger relationships, learn new things, and grow further as a person.

Each day.

Every day.

With a consistent and vibrant zest for life.

Because the moments in our lives are precious.

Our time here is very short.

Make it count.

Create the most amazing canvas you can.  Remember that every sparkle and every ray of light was once a dark shadow.  Wishes do come true.  It sometimes pays off to just take a step back to give them time to persevere and patience before it can turn into reality.

If it were easy all the time you wouldn’t appreciate it. To be fatalistic is to surrender without effort. Steps back are sometimes leaps forward in disguise.

And remember: Everything we want is attainable. It only takes a creation of the thought in your mind to make it happen, if it’s meant to happen.

Smile today.  It’s an infectious disease that should be a goal to run rampant into the hearts of many everyday.

One day a year

Yesterday was the anniversary of two people brought into this world that have changed my life: my ex husband and my sister.  Happy Birthday to the both of you.

I took a bit of time as I was going to get the mail at work to call my sister.  She lives back home in IL in a small town in Bloomington.  We live in two completely different worlds, not just zip codes. 

Hers is one of black and white.  Mine is…

She works at a school over there doing administration and testing.  She went right into college after high school and has a degree as a social worker.  Until a couple of years ago, she was doing nothing with it.  She was working in a Copy Max as a retail manager.

She, for the most part has stayed in the same place her whole life.  I have lived the life of a vagabond. 

Her relationship with my more colorful yet corporate dad is strained.  My relationship with the mundane nothingness that is my mother’s world is far from being anything grand.

My sister and I look little alike.  She takes after my mother and I’m very much so like dad.   I have had no problems finding suitors.  She has always struggled.

She nearly married her high school sweetheart. 

Nearly is a good word when it doesn’t apply to you.

Nearly won the Pulitizer prize.

Nearly made it to work on time.

Nearly got into that club for the party of the century.

Ah, nearly.

It’s definition should simply be: first loser.

It’s a word that would succinctly capture the story about Shawn.  But that’s the cart before the horse.

Jessica’s highschool sweetheart, Willy, broke up with her and married the woman right after her.  My sister must not have taken this very well as she then turned around and married his older brother- a year to the day after.  But hey, maybe she really meant it when she said it wasn’t intentional and that Shawn didn’t remember that when they picked the date.  I mean, he is a recovering alcoholic after all so I could completely understand that reasoning of logic.

My sister had been since supporting him throughout the duration of their marriage thusfar while he just mooched off her.  After exiting a marriage where my husband didn’t want me to be independent financially, I couldn’t fathom why she ever would want to carry a “man.”

I remember the days when we were younger we used to play together.  Hell there may be a cassette tape where we recorded bits and goofed around with buried somewhere in piles of things left in my mothers garage in suburbian IL.

These days?  We don’t talk much.  Not for lack to talk about, but more of the “agree to disagree” sort of lifestyle differences.  I understand her choices but I don’t think she understands mine.  Again, she is like mom and I oftentimes find myself questioning mom if she and I even legitamitatly share DNA.

Needless to say I have never really been close to that side of my family.  I wish it were different.  Maybe in another dimension it would be.

Yesterday I called her.  I’d heard pieces from dad about how things were with her.  Reminders of how much so we really were not alike.

I wasn’t sure if the rumor that Shawn would be going to jail for violation of his probation was true or if somehow he’d gotten his act together.  He’d gotten into drugs and was being watched regarding selling.

My family has said that they hope she leaves Shawn, but I don’t think it’s going to happen.  They have a child together.  My sister has always wanted to be loved and have children.  I saw the look in her eyes as I went on my way and had mine. 

Envious. 

Longing.

It is for these reasons that I tried to talk to her yesterday.  I wanted to see if she was alright.  Instead when I asked how things, she was secretive.

I asked her if she was ok.  She operated as if nothing were wrong.

“He’s away.  He will be away for a long time.  But it’s alright.  We are still together.”

She didn’t need to tell me.  I knew then that he had gone to jail.

  “Where is away?  Is it a business trip?  What’s going on?”

She got upset.  Told me it was nothing.  Told me thank you for calling.  She got abrasive.

Yesterday was the anniversary of the entrance of two people who would change my life.  I am happy with where I came from.  I am happy with where I am going.  I am glad that our paths crossed ways.  I am also glad… that we are parting.

Like so many people I run into… she seems to not realize her potential. 

I’m noticing a pattern and taking some action.

It’s going to be a long December.  For me, this one is going to be focused on working further towards my own potential in double time.  Thanks for the reminder sis and best of luck to you.

Mr Perfect

Back when you were younger do you remember those “Little Miss” books?

Well, a little while back, when I was out and about with a friend in Westwood we stopped in a gift store called Aah’s!  Walking in, you essentially knew what you were getting into.  Everyone has been to those cheesy shops at some point in their lives.  Some, more so than others.  It was littered with silly gag gifts and other assorted randomness.

Most of the time you walk into shops like that just for the experience of them.  Rarely, if ever do you buy something or know someone that does.  At least, not unless they are in their teens or know someone who is about to hit 40.

That night though I did find something.  I found a couple of things actually.  One is indeed silly and I may have to return to get it to send to someone important.  The other?  A few buttons that I put on the messenger bag that I carry most everywhere.  This story is about one button in particular- one that had the image and name of one called “Mr. Perfect.”

Little did I know, that perhaps that was a magnet for the person I would soon find to be my Mr. Perfect- HOM.

After we met it seemed very odd that the button mysteriously fell off my bag.  I put it in my pocket and held it close.  It was as if fate was telling me something…

The button is still in my pocket.  I want not to draw in anyone else.  I firmly believe that I found what I was looking for, even if it may or may not be the right time for it to happen.

Muse for Hire trudges on… those cranes have not been finished yet.  I realize more and more that I know where pure inspiration comes from.  That perhaps I already knew.

Mr. Perfect is in my pocket.  The dream is still there.  I lived it and think about it…but I don’t think about it.  I know that even if it wasn’t him… then damn I came the closest that I’ve ever gotten to it yet.

In the aftermath of the nuclear blast (a story which I am still devoted to help him pen) there is a sole survivor.

I wonder if Mr. Perfect will return and grace the nights and days with that light again or if the light that burns twice as bright will burn out twice as fast yet again.

To you my dear, I would Walk Through Hell.

I really firmly believe that there was a reason why we encountered eachother.  That there was a bit of serendipity.  That it was about something more.  It was real.  It was tangible.  It was… a movie that I will never forget.

I care about you more than you know.

I’m sorry that things turned out the way they did that day.  We were supposed to be flying kites high above the sky… the week that we had made me feel like that inside.

There are things I want to show you.  Experiences that I still want to have with you.  Mr. Perfect… you are everything I always wanted and more.

If you’d only let me.

If only

If only

If only.

I miss you my dearest.  I am looking for that way home… as I said before, San Diego my heart is yours.  This time, more than ever do I know that to be true.