Read or Die

There is something entirely gut-wrenching about the ending of a good book. The way the story holds you in an intense grip while you feverishly turn page after page only to reach the very last one and then...and then nothing. It's over. There are loose ends all over the place, nothing is resolved and it leaves you with more questions than answers.

And you have to read the next book.

Or else you die.

It never ceases to amaze me how attached I become to characters in my books. I never completely relate to any one of them though - they are always different than me, some in small ways and some in large ones. I always try to figure out who I'd be though, but no one ever quite matches up with how I feel or think. I suppose I'll just have to write my own book someday - and maybe I will.

I just finished Catching Fire, the second book in the Hunger Games trilogy. I know I'm a little late to that party, but I don't tend to gravitate towards things when there is all sorts of hype about them. I like to let things die down a little bit before I make my move. Maybe this means that I only get leftovers at parties, but I'm not much for standing in a line for hours with loads of crazy addicts to fight over something I may not be sure I even want.

But now that I am here and fully engulfed in the world of Panem, I have to know what happens next. My fingers couldn't turn the pages fast enough, my eyes couldn't read the words at the pace my brain was yelling at me to read, read, read! I started skimming words, wondering how this was all going to end up and then it was over.

Here I am left with just my imagination as to what happens next. And you guys, I don't think I can wait for someone to return the book in the library this time. I may have to go and buy it just so my heart can heal a little bit from the wound that was left at that cliff hanger of an ending.

That Suzanne Collins knows how to spin a tale, I'll tell you what. I finished both books 1 and 2 in a mere two days each. I can't stop. If I didn't have to work I'd probably have been able to finish them in a matter of hours. I don't know how to say no to a good story, nor do I think someone should ever ask that of anyone. I love to get lost in a good book. To forget about reality, even if it's only for a short period of time.

There's just something magical that happens when you're not in your own world. It's always an adventure waiting to happen, a new situation with every turn of the page. I can't imagine life without books. What a boring place that would be.

some fiction for you part 1

Writing prompt 145: What happens when two friends visit and old house that one of them inherited from an old relative? Inside the house is a 100 year old mirror that has never been broken.

It was a long drive down the dirt road, but they had finally made it to their destination. The house was nothing like Katie expected. Instead of a run-down lame excuse for a dwelling, she was greeted by a brightly colored, well kept up old homestead with a wrap around veranda - not unlike the type of housing she often dreamt about.

Joanie laughed audibly, "This has got to be the biggest surprise in the history of ever! Who knew when you found out this place was yours that you might actually want to live here." Katie parked the car and turned the engine off. Looking over at Joanie, she jingled the keys to the front door and smiled.

Both girls made their way up the steps to the solid wooden French style front door. Katie slid the key into the lock and cautiously found herself in a very large foyer. The furniture had all been draped with sheets long ago and a layer of dust covered everything. Joanie sneezed and then waved her hand in front of her face. Even though everything looked to be in good condition, it had definitely remained untouched for years.

Katie wandered through the house, taking stock of the items in this room and that one. There were several large rooms on the ground floor, including a modernized kitchen and a sizable guest bedroom. She and Joanie couldn't believe they were actually here, surrounded by all this stuff in this great big place. When the letter had arrived in the mail to relay the information of her recent inheritance, Katie had been a little hesitant to come out and see the state of her new belongings, but now she was glad she did.

Joanie left the bedroom in search of other treasures, but Katie stood still at the foot of the enormous wooden bed frame. Her hand was placed precariously on the ornately carved post as she let out a heavy sigh. What was she going to do with all this stuff? It seemed a monumental task to catalog and sell everything, but it was an even scarier thought for her to move in. She couldn't just uproot her life to live out here! In the middle of nowhere! But then again, what did she have to lose?

"Hey, Katie, get up here!" Joanie called from the top of the staircase. She was leaning over the railing, peering downwards with a mischievous gleam in her bright green eyes. Katie, jolted out of her thoughts, dashed up the stairs.

"What's up?"

"Look what I found," Joanie smiled and led Katie into one of the many rooms. She nonchalantly flipped on the light and lifted an old bed sheet off of a large standing mirror. It had a beautiful dark stained wooden frame and was adorned with artistic hand carved designs.

"This is gorgeous," Katie whispered so quietly that Joanie almost didn't hear her.

"It's got to be over a hundred years old," Joanie said, nodding in agreement. She reached out and touched the mirror's edge. Just then there was a cold burst of air in the room and the girls were sent flying backward from the ancient looking glass. The floor shook and rumbled like thunder, throwing both Katie and Joanie around like rag dolls.

Joanie's head came in contact with a large armoire that was taking up residence in a back corner of the room and was instantly knocked out. Katie flew into the wall, her body smashing hard against the pale yellow painted plaster wall. The lights went out and the room was dark.

Once the house quit trembling, Katie remained motionless on the floor. She was too frightened to stand just yet. Momentarily forgetting that Joanie was even with her, Katie closed her eyes. What just happened? With a shaky hand she reached for her temples. Her entire body ached from slamming into the hard wall. But before she could have any farther thoughts, she heard footsteps and looking up, a man appeared in the doorway.

He stood for a moment just outside the room before entering and covering the mirror back up with the sheet. Looking over at Katie, he glared with fiery blue eyes deeply set into an attractive face with a square jaw line. He looked just like every cowboy on the covers of Western novels.

Joanie stirred from the corner of the room and moaned. The man shifted his gaze from one girl to the other. The tension between Katie and this stranger was so thick that she almost couldn't breathe. She watched him move from in front of the mirror to the back corner, where Joanie was still semi unconscious on the floor. Gingerly, he bent over and scooped up Joanie's body effortlessly. Katie gasped and tried to move, but winced with pain. Probably a cracked rib. Or two.

Not knowing what to think or really what was happening, Katie watched the man place Joanie on the bed in the center of the far wall. He smoothed her hair, but the expression on his face was far from pleasant. Then he stepped over by Katie and picked her up, much the same way he had just handled Joanie. However, he walked back down the stairs with Katie in his arms, her own blue eyes staring back at his.

"What about-" Katie started to ask weakly, but his low growl ended her thought. Peculiarly, Katie wasn't frightened to be in this man's arms. She felt oddly comforted by his touch, and for some reason that didn't bug her. Once they had reached the bottom of the stairs, the man carried her into the living room and set her down on the floral upholstered sofa. She could see out the window there was a large expanse of grass, her little red car, and beside it what she assumed to be was the truck belonging to this unusual man.

He sauntered into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water, thrusting it towards Katie so hard it almost spilled. She smiled meekly and took the glass, bringing it to her lips and sipping slowly.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, somewhat gruffly. His voice matched his outward appearance in a way that Katie didn't know how to explain.

"I inherited this house from my - " she stopped, suddenly angry with what was going on. How dare this man come into her house and make her feel accused and unwanted? What was she doing here? Well, what was he doing here?! The look on her face must have given away her thoughts, because she saw the man's expression change from hard and unforgiving to somewhat calm and relaxed.

"There's just not been that much activity here since Myrtle left it some years ago. I come by to check on it every now and then, make sure it hasn't burned to the ground or the like. Shocked me to see your little car out front and then I felt the earth quake," he explained, trying to give her a little comfort.

"Well," Katie said, starting to feel more at ease, "I got a letter in the mail a few weeks ago stating that this residence now belonged to me. Myrtle was my great grandmother. Joanie and I came to check out the house and everything in it. We figured maybe we'd stay for a few days just to see what it was like."

The man nodded. "I should have known you were related to Myrtle. You look just like the old pictures of her she always had hanging about." He finally took a seat across from her in an over sized chair he had pulled the drapery off of. "I'm Wyatt."

"Katie," she answered.

"You feeling any better, Miss Katie?" he asked with a slight grin. He looked almost good-natured, but Katie was still too shook up about the whole ordeal to think of him as anything other than an intruder - even if he was being kind. She nodded in answer to his question though, and took another sip from the glass of water he'd handed her earlier.

Joanie made her way down the stairs to where she had heard Katie's voice in conversation with one she didn't recognize. Vaguely she recalled the whole house shaking and then she remembered nothing but blackness - just that she had awoken on a bed alone. As she entered the living room, Katie glanced her direction, followed by the strange man.

"Wyatt," he volunteered with a wave of his hand.

"Joanie," she replied, shooting a questioning look at Katie who shrugged. "Tell me about that mirror," she said pointedly at Wyatt. His eyes went wide as dinner plates.

"Tell me you didn't touch the mirror," he pleaded. Both girls looked at each other, horrified.

the new normal

There is so much that I want to say but I don't know how to word it. So I process and I journal and I talk until I figure it out. It's so funny that as little kids we are always in a hurry to grow up and then we get here and go "for the love of bacon, this is tough." 

In order to keep going forward in my life, I have to make certain decisions. Decisions that involve cutting certain people out of my life while allowing others to stay in it - and in addition to those things, I am learning to make new friends. 

PC and I had a terrible conversation the other night. And by terrible I mean I finally had to break down and tell him that there was zero chance we would ever get back together. It hasn't been that long that TheBoy and I have been apart, so excuse me for not wanting to flirt with anyone right away. And um, excuse me? Did PC really think he had a shot anyway? After how he treated me? Was he just hoping I'd forget everything and come running back into his arms? No thanks. I learned a lot from that relationship, and it was mostly how I don't want to be treated. 

And that is part of what makes it so hard to let TheBoy go. He hasn't treated me wrong. He's a great guy. But this thing that we are doing - this civil and friendly way we are treating each other - is not working for me. So in order for me to do what's best in my life, I have to let go. I have to stop talking to him or my door will always be open. 

Through a series of honest conversations with myself, and a lot of journaling, I decided it was time to move on. I wrote a letter to TheBoy that was full of everything I would want to say to him in a perfect world. He will never read that letter, it was just for me to put everything out in the open and move on from there. 

Also, I decided that I have to reach out and make connections here where I am right now at this moment. I can't keep living in the past wishing that I could just go back to Moscow. I can't live that style of life forever and I can't keep pretending that I'm still in school. I graduated. I have a degree and a teaching certificate. And even though school is the only life I know, it's time for me to start defining my new normal. 

And that new normal is taking place here and now and if I'm not careful I will miss it. 

that v-word is the cruelest

The beginning months of every year are totally the lamest. January is long and bleak with nothing to really look forward to and somehow it's the month of impending breakups also. And then there's February which is just the stupidest reminder for all of my failed Januaries.

Especially because February comes with my least favorite day of the entire year.

Valentine's Day.

It's really the grossest.

In my whole entire life I've never had a positive Valentine's Day experience. When PC and I were together we were too poor to do anything so it was always kind of a let down. Then after that I was just by myself. Forever alone. For three years in a row now. I was hoping this year would be different, but it actually turned out just like I feared it would.

How sad is that?

So I'm just hoping that Thursday goes by unnoticed and I don't have to see too many googly eyed couples all lovingly holding on to one another while I cuddle with my dog and drown my sorrows in action movies and a glass of wine.

Maybe some year I will like Singles Awareness Day, but this year is not that year.

To distract myself from all of this negative nonsense I think about how my puppy is getting big! I remember when I used to be able to fit her just on the inside of my jacket - my cute little runt of the litter! And now she's 26 pounds of black fur and adorableness.

Plus I was able to visit TheKeeper in Seattle this past weekend. We went skiing and ate at a fancy restaurant way out of our price range. (Thanks Mom and Dad!)

Also, sunsets. Those are the best.

May your February be infinitely cooler than mine and have a happy Valentine's Day - I just don't want to hear about it. 

all my feels

Hi, my name is Natalie and I have a problem. I like to stuff my emotions down inside of me and pretend like they don't exist. Well, at least the "bad" ones anyway. And by that I mean emotions like anger, frustration, sadness, hurt, loneliness and a plethora of other negative adjectives. Truth be told, those feelings aren't "bad" at all, they're merely just feelings. We just don't like to feel them because they're not fun.

I don't like being angry. Anger and frustration make me feel ridiculous and it's hard to act with a cool head when you are experiencing a hot temper. I have said a lot of things I didn't mean when I've been angry, and I just got tired of it. So I stopped. I've watched how angry people act and I don't want to be that way. I've watched how others will react to anger, and it's just messy. No thank you, anger. See you later.

Instead, frustration reveals itself in my life with tears. Yelling makes me feel self conscious, so I just let the tears fall. I get lost and I don't know what to do. I don't know how to deal with the emotions I'm experiencing and I allow myself to become overwhelmed. Through the years I have discovered that talking helps, even if the person I'm conversing with doesn't really have anything to respond with. Just a shoulder to cry on and a hand to hold are sometimes enough for me. Writing also helps me process, even more than talking might. I'm not looking for answers when I blog, just an outlet to spew all over the page and get everything out in the open.

But through a series of conversations with a counselor at church I've come to find out that the reason I cry so easily is because I don't deal with my feelings. I experience them for a little while and then I shove them down in this steaming pot inside of me. It bubbles and gurgles, but I just keep adding fuel to the fire. Right now I'm upset about the whole situation with TheBoy, and I don't know how long I'm allowed to be hurting. So instead of dealing with all the things this breakup has brought my way, I just put them in this pot and slap on a brave face.

I want to be mad, but I fluctuate back and forth on that matter. In a sense I can't be mad at him. He did what he needed to do for his mental health. And at the same time I'm so angry about it that I just want to punch something, but instead of heading into the woods and screaming at the trees, I just hold it in my abdomen and refuse to confront it. I want to yell and cry and throw things at him, but what good would that do anyone? He has enough on his plate, why add my feelings to the mix? 

And I'm sad. I'm so sad that this future I was starting to let into my mind disappeared. TheBoy would always include me in his future when he spoke about the things that might happen in distant months, even years sometimes. I was so hesitant to include him in mine though, because of what happened with PC. Slowly he started to insert himself into my life anyway. I would talk about future travels and he would often ask if he was included. It made me start to feel safe with him, it made me start to consider that maybe he was planning on sticking around after all. That's when I made my fatal mistake and let my guard down. 

In the end, he couldn't deal with the commitment right now. He didn't want to get hurt again. He doesn't want to feel the way that I feel right now. And who can blame him? Feeling heartbroken sucks. So I put on a smile and I go about my day like I'm fine. Like I'm getting over it. And I am, I think. 

I know from experience that these feelings will go away eventually, but that I have to feel them first. I just wish that skipping steps was possible, so that I didn't have to feel anger and frustration before I could experience acceptance. It's hard to go day to day trying to forget about someone that you let yourself care about an immense amount only to spend the whole night dreaming that you were back together. 

Knowing that he left the door open for the future makes it even harder. Especially because this whole thing was not my decision, but I'm left with having to figure out whether I keep that door open or shut it myself. When I confronted TheBoy about whether or not he left the door open on purpose he looks at me like I'm stupid (but not in a condescending way, if that's possible) and says "Well, yeah!" 

And but why? Why would he do that? You can't have a relationship breakup that is "permanent for now" - his words, not mine. You can't have your cake and eat it to, although I've noticed that's what a lot of guys want. So in reality, I have to shut this door in order for me to move on and be happy in my life. Is he just saying that so he can come back if he doesn't find anything better? Because I am not playing that game. As stuck up as it may sound, I'm awesome and I deserve to be with someone who thinks so too - not someone who thinks he has to "settle" for me. Not that I think this is necessarily how TheBoy feels, but right now it's hard to tell. Not even he knows what he wants at the moment, which is the reason for this breakup anyway. 

It's just unfortunate that there's so much baggage that comes up when two people decide to split. I decided to let TheBoy inside, knowing that this would be the consequence. Making yourself vulnerable to another person affords them the ability to walk away from you at any time and take a piece of you with them. Granted I haven't had many boyfriends, but TheBoy was the best one so far. I don't think I ever told him that, but it's the truth. And now it doesn't even matter. 

Just like my feelings. 

I'll wade through them. I'll journal and I'll process and maybe I'll even get the courage to sit in my car in an empty parking lot and yell at the steering wheel for days just to see if it helps me feel better. It's not only time that you need in order to heal, it's a will to move past all the things that have hurt you and a courage to face a new day with a heart that won't give up. 

I know that right now I have no idea what I want and that this next year will be full of life altering decisions. It's both insanely frightening and completely exhilarating at the same time. Although honestly I think right now I'm just more scared than anything. 

bring it on

There is a poem by Shel Silverstein that is stuck in my head like a bad 90s pop song and no matter how hard I try to ignore it, the lyrics just keep rolling around in my brain. 

When the light turns green you go.

When the light turns red you stop.

But what do you do 

When the light turns blue

With orange and lavender spots?

And let me tell you something, my light is definitely blue with the most orange and lavender spots one can imagine. 

There are no right answers, only choices. There is not a right choice and a wrong choice, but instead there is this choice or maybe that one instead. And no one can tell you which one to choose. I mean, it's not like you want everyone to boss you around - it's time to take charge! Be an adult! Do stuff and things and stomp around in your mismatched polka dotted socks like you own the place. 

But at the exact same time, people telling you what to do is a comfort. It's a safety blanket from when you were two years old, Linus, and you couldn't go anywhere without that fuzzy blue square cut cloth dragging on the ground behind you. Besides, if you do what someone else tells you to do and it doesn't work out, you can always fall back on the blame game. Point that finger and mean it!

The trouble with living life by everyone else's rules and ideas is that it's unsatisfying. Eventually you will be most displeased to discover that you have not done what you wanted to do, but instead what you thought everyone else wanted you to do and you end up crying into your biscuits and gravy wishing you could relive your life. 

Being in your 20s is totally hard to navigate. And it's even harder if you've never watched an older sibling go through it first. Here you are, machete in hand, hacking down all these branches and leaves to forge a path, having no idea if you're even headed in the right direction. Constantly looking for approval with big doe-eyes in a way that says "Help! Am I doing this right?" and that is scary. I mean, what if you're headed straight for a swamp? Shouldn't someone tell you? 

Except that no one can. 

And that's terrifying. Petrifying. It turns your stomach in knots and then you can't eat or sleep and you get a little overwhelmed and feel like maybe you're dying. It's not that you're not successful in your life after college, it's not even like you have failed miserably in any direction. Although, maybe you have. Everyone's got secrets. But it's not the end of the world, that was in December...and we all lived.

It's just simply that there are many different roads you could take and it's having to figure out which one is the perfect one for you that is the scariest. Because, hello? What if you take the wrong way and get lost and miss out on incredible opportunities? That is a risk you are just going to have to be willing to take - because if you just ball up and don't make any choices then you end up no where.

Mom and Dad can't tell you what to do forever, although part of them would like to do that. They want to protect you and keep you safe and never see you make any mistakes or disappoint them in any way. But the cold hard truth is that this is going to happen. You are a human and by nature you are flawed. You are also not a psychic and the future is always going to be blurry and somewhat grey. 

So here you are, standing at a cross roads and one is not better than the other, but merely different. And everyone can give you all the advice in the world, but ultimately you have to be the one to decide which direction you are going to take. What is your next move? 

Don't take something just because it's in front of you. Don't listen to someone just because their voice is in your ear. Ask questions. Listen to what people have to say. Pray about it. Then make your decision. There are no right answers and mistakes are not the worst thing in the world. If you never make a mistake you will never grow and if you never grow then you will never do anything important and that's when you end up a 40 year old man living in his parents' basement with only your video games and a very sad cat for company. 

Nobody wants to be that guy. 

I can't pretend to have it all figured out, especially because I'm fairly certain that I'm holding my map upside down and reading the user's manual backwards. However, I do know that I'm going to fail. I'm going to screw up and miss out on things. I also know that I am going to have incredible opportunities no matter what road I'm on. It's just making the decision and plunging into icy cold water headfirst, fearless, that's going to be the truly inspiring part.