All My Loving is Sent To You...

Everyone knows him, he's the kid who has everything. He stares effortlessly into everyone's soul. His smile resonates throughout a room, into the darkest of caves and the blackest of hearts. he's every girls dream. He is loved by all and hated by none except, her. Boy meets girl. "I hate you", she scowls out. Suddenly he's breathless. He's taken aback by her beauty and grace. Now he realizes all the barriers within himself that allow him to be perfection. It is denial and conformity that have allowed him to be this way. More than any other soul he was trapped. "Thank you", he whispers back. All of his barriers come crashing down within him, he is finally released.Now he is miserable. He's in love. And, it's all her fault.

I want to write a book. I want this to be the introduction. I want it to be about the greatest love that almost was. Unfortunately, most of it is based on a true story. Fortunately, I can re-write their fate. I can finally edit my worth. I've documented most of my journeys over the past 5 years in lace, lined, and trimmed paper. About 2 years ago I decided I would keep every journal I ever tainted and one day do the unimaginable.

On my daughters 16th birthday I hope to grant her two things: peace, and opportunity. Granted all of this would take place years from now, AFTER I actually HAVE a daughter. But, I hope to give her my old journals and a blank one of her own. It would give her peace of mind and the opportunity of a lifetime.It'll be an abstract symbol for the past, present, and her blank future. I hope to inspire and guide her through my jottings and mistakes but, more than that I hope she can acknowledge and recognize the growth. It's not only the physical curves and loops of my inked writing but, my spiritual and mental capability. I hope she sees where it all started and she dreams about where it ends. I've not decided at what age I will discontinue the journalings to my unborn daughter. All I know is that as blessed as I am with a more than capable mother I wish she would communicate her strength in other forms. Sometimes trying isn't enough and actions can't do justice to words. Sometimes it's by examining others' flaws we come to realize our strengths. It's the paradox of love and hate, strength and weakness. I more than want but, need to give her a piece of me.

"Do it and risk your soul", that's what he says. Your looking at your journals through sacred eyes but, don't be so sure it won't backfire. My friends want to protect me from my own unborn daughter but, I know better. Or at least I hope I do. And if she gains nothing else from my shouted cursive and moody tales I hope she finishes. I hope she finds the strength I've never had and finishes my unpublished tale of the greatest love that almost was.

2 months later she sits alone on a sidewalk. Schools over rated and sometimes she doesn't have the energy to prove everybody wrong. She takes out a pen and scribbles on the sidewalk 'lies make the world go 'round'. He sees her from a distant afraid to approach. But, with all of his walls broken down and no reservations he veers in closer, all to eager to feel her heart beat. She's fragile. She's vulnerable. He loves it. She looks up at him and caresses his face."Lie to me", she says. "I love you" he whispers.