Only the good die young

Dear darling,

She was in the same spot as me. We worked the same hours at the same store while we waited for the missionaries who left at the same time. We were even planning weddings for the same week. Then we both got the same news: that we weren't healthy enough to go on those missions we both wanted. The only difference was that she wasn't healthy enough to keep going.

Now I've moved on from that place and I'm planning a wedding and she's moved on and her family is planning a funeral.

It doesn't seem fair. Why her? Why when we thought we had stories that were so much the same, is her ending so tragic?

Why do the good die young? It always seemed like a line in a song that was too popular for it to be normal but I get it now. The good die and it isn't fair. And now I'm asking the same question hoping someone has an answer to make this make sense because she is dead and I'm still here and you are there and I just want you to hug me and tell me it will be okay.

I want you to explain to me why she had to go. And I don't want 'it was the lords plan' and I don't want 'she is in a better place'. I know that, and if I didn't now isn't the time I'm learning it. I want you to explain why someone that good, that full of life and love, can just be gone.

I want you to explain why her mother is going to live the rest of her life with a part of her soul missing.

I want you to explain why her sisters are going to grow up and get married and not be able to have her there.

I want you to explain why her brother is going to have to find someone else to help him do his math homework.

I want you to explain why I am going to have to keep living life like everything is normal when we were in the same place, not even six months ago. Explain why I get to plan my wedding and her family has to plan her funeral.

Silver only shines in the daylight

Wanderlust.  They all say it.  Wanderlust.

They whisper it on their indie blogs and behind the dusty shelves of secondhand bookstores and they all say it.

Wanderlust.

Wanderlust, or just an urge to run?  Isn't that what you do when there's no where to hide and fighting back doesn't have a fighting chance?

"Let's get a silver bullet trailer and have a baby boy."

I would miss you less in a trailer halfway across the country.  Then again, maybe I would just miss him more.

I always though you and I, we could run away. We would buy that trailer and we would see the world. And I always thought you and I, we could be happy. We would listen to the Beatles and I would make you too much dessert and we would raise our baby boy on Star Trek and coconut shampoo.

You and I, we would be okay.

You would laugh at my dreams and I would tease you when you tripped. But late at night when you held me, I would close my eyes and I would pretend you were him.

I would sing lullabies of longing and show our baby boy his picture and I'd tell that baby I wanted him to grow up to be more like him than like his own father.

I would write him love letters, but I wouldn't send them (that was always my problem). I would put them in a box in the top of the closet and when you found them, I wouldn't tell you who they were for.

And you and I, we would be okay.

Wanderlust, the urge to run.

I always thought we both had it, so you and I, we could run away together but it turns out your case was stronger than mine. But it is better this way, because you and I, we would be okay. But with out him, I would never be anything more than that.

Darling Dear

You will never own my heart but you can own every single one of my bones. All Two Hundred and Six. They are yours. All my heart does is bump bump bump, that is all it is good at.  So you will never own my heart but you can have my bones and I will be your muscles. Bones and muscles, they don't work with out each other. Bones support the muscles and the muscles cling to the bones.

You will never own my heart but you can take my lungs. They are damaged but they are yours. All my heart does is pulls blood in and pushes it, pulls it in and pushes it away again, but you aren't a yo yo and I don't want to push you away. All I want is to pull you closer. So have my lungs and be their oxygen. They will pull you in and you will make them grow, and they will burn with out you, never getting enough.

You won't ever own my heart but you already have my mind. They estimate there are 1,000 trillion synapses in the brain and you can have them all. All my heart knows how to do is keep going but you, you made my mind stick on repeat for the last two years, so take it. My mind is stuck on you and you alone and so it is already yours.

My heart, all it does is bump bump, push and pull, go go go. My bones, my lungs, my mind? All they do is crave you. So take them, sign your name to them and claim them as your own. Because while you may never own my heart you already own the rest of me.