I bromes you.

Posted on May 30, 2008


I have to apologize for not paying more attention to my blog and my readers.

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I’ve got stories to tell and pictures to post from Amsterdam. I’ve got lots to talk about the timing of events in my life lately. I have new-born passions and new ambition that is coming into view that are very slowly moving closer to the center of my heart and I barely know what to do about it other than chase them blindly and with mad love. I’ve discovered that I have hope inside of me that I took for granted for the longest time. I’ve found that I disagree more than I thought I did. I’m tired of pleasing people. I’m tired of attempting to look like I’m following the nice little cookie-cutter life that everyone has cut out for me in their heads. I need to slow down and take a few days just to relax and really devote some alone time to myself.

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You tend to build your life according to the priorites you have… But then what happens when you leave for ten days and come back with completely different priorities? Life feels awkward right now, I won’t lie. And I have no idea what all that means yet for the coming months, but I know it’s huge and it’s gonna throw me for a loop…

And yet I’ve never been so excited for the next chapter of my life.

I have so much to say and yet translating it to the keyboard has become very difficult.

Sitting on the boat in the canal with you at midnight talking helped me make more sense of my life. I wonder where your life went and what you remembered of our conversation the next morning. Your gold eyes flickered while we talked and I hope that you spent the next week knowing that the conversation between you, a film student, and I, a complete stranger standing with my group from America on a bridge, was not just part of your imagination. And if you do think you imagined it, maybe at least you’ll know what I meant by “east of the city” when you go to your next film class.

I was actually leary of talking to you for so long. The rest of the festival went on and the minutes passed. And yet we wandered through the meaning of life without even originally meaning to. You asked me a question that caught me off guard. “So what keeps you believing?” I never answered you and I’m sorry.

You send me messages once a week or so in broken English. At first I didn’t know what to make of them and so I didn’t know how to respond and I ignored your first few messages but now I realize that your messages carry hope and true friendship and support, even if it means spelling “promise” as “bromes” and “protect” as “brotcht” and “missionary” as “mushonry”.

This is the first time I’ve been able to write in what seems like months. I know I’ve usually got a lot of sunlight to pass arond when you read my posts here, but I need some time to turn out the light and wrestle with who I am and who I am becoming.

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