you're amazing.

you're worth it.

will you run this race beside me?

dear jesus,

please keep my heart still as i pray and seek Your face-

don't let it hide away & don't let it get ahead of itself.

hold my heart in place,

in the place where You are.

home is where your heart is-

home is where you'll put your heart, where you'll invest your heart.

jesus left His home to put His heart here, to invest His heart here,

to give His heart to us.

it's different than standing at a window looking in,

it's different than standing in the doorway,

it's different than sitting in the living room and staying for an hour,

it's different than crashing on the floor and spending a night,

it's living there, being there, making it home,

giving it your heart.

thanks alice,

instead of writing my new essay,

i'm spending the night wordle-ing old essays..

and bible passages..

hee,

coolest.

thing.

everr.

:)

your page is dog-eared in my book

and even if someday i unfold that little corner,

and i can no longer readily flip to your page,

no matter how much time comes between,

i will come across your page and see

that crease, that crinkle

that will remember you always.

boom, baby!

full circle,

but different.

though no less enchanting,

the sky is so pretty right now.

i'm tired in the depths of my being and sleep can not hope to reach it.

1029 lines

it's nice to know that some things don't change.
and even if they do, it's nice to know that you don't want them to either.

i have another idea-
a magical, wonderful, fantastic, ingenious idea.

an idea that is tried and true.

an idea that is our past,

that could our future

if only we make it our present for a night.

maybe it's true, i can't live without you

maybe two is better than one.

but when it comes down to it,

one is better than two-

when two become one.

one night, one world, one us-

we'll make one the least lonely number.

if he were you

things would be different.

but then again,

everything is different in the fantasy world growing in my head.

how does this work again?

what am i allowed to say & what stays in my head, in my heart?

january.

february.

march.

april.

five more days until may.

unless april has thirty-one?

haikus, poetry, words with you, you, you, and you.

cupcakes with you, you, and you.

closer to you, further from you.

black pen, blue pen,

old friend, new friend,

basketball, softball, frisbee,

breakfast, lunch, and dinner,

charmander, squirtle, bulbasaur.

tufts day care! bon jovi! ice cream & nutella!

soundbites, library roof, your room,

first service, second service, third service,

peaches, plums, roses,

apples, oranges, monkeys

fruit basket.

i know,

i make no sense.

but it's okay,

i'm not supposed to.

look, sunshine

no bunnies just yet-

still working on that.

i really need to

give the sunshine & bunnies side of me more control of this blog, huh.

i feel like a little kid

who has eagerly & excitedly brought out all her favorite toys & little treasures to proudly display them for someone special only to have them say oh, cool & then have to not only carefully return them all to where they belong but have to do it with them watching.

i should know better.

stupid toys.

"how've you been these days?"

whenever i hear that question,
anything really with "these days" in that context
i always answer only with what i did today, yesterday at most.

usually, mostly, consciously, in the past
it's because "these days" is so vast, i wouldn't know where to start,
not to mention i don't remember it all off the top of my head.

but i was thinking about it today when you asked me,
of course you're the one who triggered these thoughts, these words.

here's my theory, and i kind of hope i'm wrong:
if someone really cared about how i was "these days"
they would have asked me on those days.

we live in such a tech savvy age that there's no real excuse for not asking other than a lack of interest.

and i know this applies to me, too. and i guess that's why i do think it's true. because when i really examine my life and my interactions and my relationships..

well, except for the cases where i do care,
i care so much, but i'm afraid to let the other person know i care,
afraid to come on too strong, afraid to annoy,
afraid of an uninterested answer,
afraid

so i don't ask.

but that's not why you haven't asked.
and so that's why i can only let myself tell you what i ate for breakfast today.

not because i don't care to tell you,
not because i feel like you don't "deserve" to know,
but simply because i'm so afraid that you don't care to know-
it's insecurity, you see.

a passionate person

fueled by love is a force that no one can defeat.

and we know it's never simple,

never easy.

how ironic,
you keep popping in & out of my life-
gopher.

good.
great.
super.
is that what you wanted to hear?

goodness,
passive aggressive, much?
le'sigh.

i feel so

homesick.

except, how can it possibly be homesickness when i am home.
and no, it's not a matter of oh, what is home? which home am i sick for?
i'm homesick for shanghai.

it's okay, it doesn't make sense to me either.

i'm so desperately, heartachingly homesick
for where i am.

being away from shanghai for ten months
makes the two months i do get to be here so
lonely.

and the thing is,
even if i decided to take a year off and move back to shanghai,
maybe get a job, maybe work with the youth group,
it still wouldn't be the same-
i've already left.

what's that saying?
you never step foot in the same river twice?
i already stepped out of the river that everyone is still standing in,
the river i stood in for eight years.

if i could, i would honestly go back to my senior year of high school.
is it absurd that i miss high school?
college is supposed to be the best years of your life,
but senior year was filled with all the right people and all the right memories.

i miss going to soar.
i miss going to SAS.
i miss going on retreats.
i miss going on APAC.
i miss going home every day.

i want so desperately for this to be my world again.

i guess i'm not so good with moving forward,
moving on,
moving.

happy new year.