just alyssa

"Who are you?", he declares from across the table. I stare at him hard, trying to piece together his question.....who. am. I? I'm already slapping myself for agreeing to have coffee. I knew it wouldn't help, yet he insisted we talk. Which basically means he's going to guilt trip me for not sharing his affections for me. "Who are you, Alyssa?", he asks once more, interrupting my thoughts. The more I try to reel that question in to a thought that could produce something meaningful, the quieter I become. I hitch a breath and shake my head. There comes a point in our lives where we get tired of being crouched and uncomfortable, so we decide to crawl out of the boxes we have fit in so perfectly these many years. We stand up and try to find a new path, away from all the labels we've been given. Our eyes are made of glass, giving back the reflection of those around us. We contort our bodies and minds to fit the needs of others and let go of the ownership ...

When a close friend of mine died back in 2009, I downloaded a song by Tenth Avenue North called Hold My Heart. That song was on my ipod and forever on repeat for nearly a year. I kept listening to it over and over again, thinking about the lyrics, wondering when the “maker of the stars was going to come close and hold my heart”. I cried many times that year during this song, never once from happiness. I remember thinking, “what’s the point?” You get straight A’s, go to church, don’t drink, don’t cuss, don’t smoke, don’t have sex……you play by all the moral rules society has instilled in you and you still end up suffering from a broken heart. As I drove away from my friend’s apartment tonight that song came on the radio. My heart swelled and ached with so many memories of what my life had been. Was that really five years ago? Tonight I sat at my friend’s apartment, eating soup, and giving her the advice I’d been handed nearly a year ago. It’s funny how the lessons we...