9 Creative Ways to Say "I Love You"

Ok, so the title has NOTHING to do with the post. I was searching for a creative way to say "Hey! I found this searching through old documents on my old computer," and "9 creative ways to say 'I love you'" surfaced instead. (Yes, I googeld it). I don't know how familiar any of you are with NPR'S "This I Believe" segment, but I am a 90 year old man, so I love it. My senior AP English teacher (Mrs. Moak--the woman who inspired "Golden Apples") made us write a "This I Believe" essay. She did not require us to submit them (thank goodness, because I would love to REALLY work on one for submission). She also made us read our essays. I can not even begin to expain how intense this was. I went to Kindergarten with the kids I graduated with, so I was very close to 98% of the senior class. Oh, by the way, our class was very Dead Poets Society. Our class grew very close, because Mrs. Moak forced us to dive into literature, apply it to our own lives, and really understand it for what it is. This process challenged us to discover what we believe and stand up for it in addition to challenging us to know when to shut up. But, as MTV "Diaries" exclaimed many times... you may think you know, but you have NO idea. An alarming amount of people mentioned me in their essay. It was so strange to know that my peers looked up to me so much. One classmate of mine wrote about his belief in doing away with the death penalty. His essay told the story of his father being murdered mere hours after he was born, and his father's killer being released the day our essay was due. NONE of us knew this kid's father had been murdered, despite sharing 13 years with him. Apparently no one knew. Crazines. So, this is my crappy "This I Believe" essay. As bad as it is, it was nice running into it.

Jaimee Harris
Mrs. Moak
English IV- 4
28 March 2008
Belief in Vulnerability
I am a songwriter. The past four years of my life have been recorded, shipped, and sold throughout coffee shops in Texas, including an entire album dedicated to the hardest year I have ever fought through. I have been criticized for being too real with my songwriting and have received many e-mails from people who are concerned that I might be making myself too vulnerable to the universe. Yet, original music gives me strength and connects me with people close and far away from me. I believe in music.
My dad bought me a guitar the Christmas right before my sixth birthday. He taught me everything he had learned on his own, and a few pointers he received from Eddie Vedder. My interest in songwriting, however, did not spark until I felt I had something worthy to write about. My dad have been songwriting together ever since. I believe in the power music has to create a unique relationship between a father and a daughter.
Suddenly, everything in my life changed. For two years, my dad constantly suffered from a blood vessel problem in his brain, known as a cluster headache, that at times left him blind, unable to walk, and unable to speak. The seventh doctor we went to was finally able to explain the condition to my family, and also warn us that this disease has an extremely good chance of being passed on to me. Receiving the news at sixteen years old that my brain will eventually turn to mush and I will be a burden on my family within twenty years forced me to open my eyes and take in everything I could. I wrote constantly about pain, love, nature, basically anything I observed. I believe in the power of music, because it helps me cope with trauma.
Music has forced me to invite the entire world into my life, but people all over the world have responded to my songs and invited me into their lives. Along with the handful of critical e-mails I receive, I also receive e-mails from fans from New Zealand, China, Japan, and the Netherlands that encourage me to write more or thank me for what I have written. After I played a show at a coffee shop in Dallas, a biker dressed in all leather, sporting several prison tattoos and a ZZ Top beard came up to in shambles. He told me that his best friend had just passed away and my music helped him to cope with his loss. Troll now copes with music instead of alcohol and plays an open mic night every Monday. I believe in the power music has to connect people who would be otherwise separated. I believe songwriting has the ability to affect not only the giver, but the receiver. I believe songwriting can sustain me financially, but in order to do so, I must believe in what makes me vulnerable.

Memphis by Morning

The trip to KY always allows for lots of time to think. I think I will listen to this song a lot.

"High and Low" -Greg Laswell

I'm going to see some friends from out of state
The very trip that you were supposed to take a while
ago
But it fell through
Like all of you
Like all of you

Thought i'd make the drive but a free plane ride is in
the air
And just like that my fear of it disappeared
Like all of you
Like all of you

And i look high and low for yesterday
High and low for you and i
High and low

Once i can see straight i might move somewhere cold
Seattle or the bay area; to see your ghost
What's left of you
What's left of you

And i look high and low for yesterday
High and low for you and i
High and low

Found a letter from a man i might have met, addressed
to you
And i'll steal the words he ended with:
I miss you
And i do
Miss you
And i do

High and low for yesterday
High and low for you and i
High and low

I've Decided I'm Poisonous

"Kill them with kindness." 

A small little phrase normally used to offer one advice on how to deal with a bully, an enemy, or an undesirable situation.  What phrase is given to people who are naturally loving?  I do not believe that I allow myself to get stepped all over.  Maybe I am just too kind, too trusting, too forgiving.  My intention was never to kill anyone with anything.  

Here's what happened: It seems like a lifetime ago, but I fell in love.... hard.  It didn't work out and it sucked.  I slowly and painfully got over it.  At first it killed me not being able to talk to this person.  He was such a huge part of my life for so long.  Eventually, not talking to him was fine.  The days faded out where everything reminded me of him.  Sure, I would hear a song that reminded me of him every once in a while, but that's expected.  At first, it killed me that he did not even want to try to be friends after we had shared so much together.  Eventually, it didn't bother me at all. 

As soon as I got over the whole thing, we kept running into each other... EVERYWHERE.  In our hometown, in Dallas, in Austin.  It was definitely a Carrie running into Big situation.  Even the locations were similar: art galleries, benefits, friends of friends houses, etc...  Neither one of us made a decision to be friends after all of these strange encounters, it just kind of happened.  It felt so wonderful to be friends again.  We have been apart for so long, grew up a little bit, experienced different things, and found ourselves back at square one again: comfortable with each other like nothing had happened.  Seriously, it's creepy.  On several occasions, I've gotten into his car and he's listening to the exact same song I was just listening to!  I felt so connected to him without wanting to date him.  BIG STEP.   Then, everything got screwed up.

He came to see me play a show the other weekend, and everything was going fine.  He was hanging out with my new friends (where he fit in perfectly).  He balanced having fun and networking (ok...so he hasn't changed THAT much).  As we were waiting to leave, he placed his hands on my shoulders and left them there.  My heart sank straight into my stomach... true vertical drop.  Questions swirled around in my head.

Why is he doing that?  Is this a friendly gesture?  Does he want something more?  Is he just trying to calm me down?  Is he flirting?  Why does this feel so familiar?  What does this mean?  How fast can I run away from this?

I hate it.  Now, I have no idea what I want.  I really do not think I want to date him again (not that he's given off those specific vibes).  Do I run away from the situation?  For so long I've prayed for us to have  a healthy friendship.  Now that it's come, how do I balanced keeping my heart guarded and letting him be a significant part of my life again?  I would feel guilty for throwing away the opportunity to be friends since I have prayed for it for so long.  Maybe what I want has changed.  I am definitely an "all or nothing" girl.  If I know you, I love you deeply and would do almost anything for you.  Maybe I am TOO passionate.  Too kind. All I can do is hope that I do not get misunderstood.  As a friend, I want to share everything with him (that is just how  I am).  I can only hope he does not mistake my honesty and openness for a desire for a romantic relationship.  

This is why it's confusing though:  I am absolutely fine just having a friendship.  I don't think about him all the time or want to text him every day.  I don't even think about him every day.  BUT if he wanted to try the whole romantic relationship thing with me again, I'd be open to it.  The relationship was so perfect the first time and severed without warning.  I just DO NOT want that to happen again... especially with the SAME guy!  After breaking up, I swore off dating.  I always said "the next guy I date better be the guy I marry because I'm never going through that again."  I never wanted to lose love ever again.  Then, I decided marriage may not be something I want.  It's so hard to explain, and I know it sounds silly, but I guess the long story short is: If we're going to do this again, it better work. 

Sorry about the rambling.  At least you have some idea what's been going on.  

"Clarity of mind means clarity of passion, too; this is why a great and clear mind loves ardently and sees distinctly what it loves." - Blaise Pascal

"There is no remedy for love but to love more." - Henry David Thoreau 

"I cannot think well of a man who sports with any woman's feelings; and there may often be a great deal more suffered than a stander-by can judge of."- Jane Austen

... and then, i smiled.

Summer has been so interesting.  New friends came into my life, friends left, and someone I once loved (and consequently hated) returned as a good friend.  As everyone returned home for the summer, I realized how much I have changed.  I am not as fearless as I once was, but this new sense of caution is good for me.  After 3 years, I let go of a broken heart just in time to let the boy who broke it come back around to make me laugh again. 

Timing is perfect.  

I tried so many things I have never tried before.  Not all of them worked out, but they were certainly worth trying. 

Timing is perfect.

Two of my friends have shared stories with me the past two days about finding a person that fit into their life just at the right moment.  In both situations, the road leading up to happiness was tainted with confusion, hard decisions, and a hint of awkwardness BUT the ending was so blissful.  I have always believed you can't who you fall in love with or when you fall in love.

Timing is perfect.

My heart is bursting with excitement for these people.  In the latter situation, these two are two of the most beautiful people I have ever met.  I can not wait to hear how their love grows.  

Timing is perfect. 

I feel like I knew it would happen all along.  They told me I was right, and then I smiled.

Timing is perfect. 

Some Words I've Been Writing

.two tunes with working titles.

1. I wrote 1/3 of this song outside of the HOB Dallas on a collection of receipts and napkins I found in my purse (at the Sleeperstar show).  I wrote 1/3 of it the following day at Island Party (another Sleeperstar show) in Austin.  I guess Sleeperstar is just inspiring.

"No Explanation" - May 2009

Is there supposed to be a light when two worlds collide?

If so, how do we know if its source is love or a fire that's burning everything inside? (everything inside)

If it is a fire, do we tend to the flames or just pass it by? (pass it by)

I just love you, and I don't know why

No explanation, I just don't know why

Our heads are always so clouded

But somehow we seem to remain so grounded (remain so grounded)

If it's good, but it's not love

Do we leave it where we found it? or as we found it?

I just love you, and I don't know why

No explanation, I just don't know why

Will our seed grow? 

I don't know, I just don't no

Until I do I just wish on my eyelashes (my eyelashes)

That this seed bears a tree that thrives on ashes (thrives on ashes)

I just love you, and I don't know why

No explanation, I just don't know why

I just want you, and I don't know why

No explanation, I just don't know why

2. Written on the couch of my living room (you know, how normal people write) 

"254"- May 2009

We all went to Seaside, FL

Just to clear our heads

I ate a fish that looked like it wasn't dead

We rode our bikes on the sidewalk

Laughing all the way

Let's come back for another day

And these friends we've made

Lay scattered 'cross the countries

Six names are engraved in the heart of Texas on a big oak tree

We all climbed a mighty mountain

Trekking through the snow

Found out a lot of things that we didn't know

We made our way down on a big sled

Screaming all the way

Made it to the bottom, guess life's OK

And these friends we've made

Lay scattered 'cross the countries

Six names are engraved in the heart of Texas on a big oak tree

Highway 84

You are our open door

Oh, 254 

I have never loved you more

And these plans we've made

They may never be

Six names are engraved in the heart of Texas on a big oak tree

Words Bound by Beauty

"Tu Se' Morta" - Monteverdi

ed io respiro; tu se' da me partita

se' da me partita per mai piu,

mai piu non torane, ed io rimango-

no, no che se i versi alcuna cosa ponno,

n'andro sicturo a' piu profondi abissi

e, internito il cor del re l'ombre,

meco traotti a riverder le stelle

"Puis qu'en oubli" - Machaut

Puis qu'en oubli sui de vous dous amis

Vie amoureuse et joie a dieu commant

Mar vi le jour que m'amour en vous mis

Puis qu'en oubli sui de vous dous amis

Mais ce tenray que je vous ay promis 

C'est que jamais n'aray nui autre amant

Puis qu'en oubli sui de vous dous amis

Bia amoureuse et joie a dieu commant 

The Craftsmanship of Lines and Spaces

I have needed to cry for two months, but it has not happened.

This week has presented plenty of opportunities for me to cry.  

Car broke down in Red Oak... no tears. 

iPhone (most prized possession) dies... no tears.

Horrific argument with my father... no tears.

Eisley lyrics... no tears.

Feeling serious hurt for a good friend dealing with unrequited love... no tears.

At first, I believed it was because I was getting stronger.

Then, I feared it was because I was becoming numb.

At last... it happened.

Dvorak: Symphony No. 9 From the New World (4th Movement)

That piece of music has meant so much to me.  Everything it represents parallels my life.

  

The Music Itself: The beginning is so haunting.  Like a warning to step away or something horrible is going to happen.  But, as you draw your freshly rosined bow across the four strings, you find yourself getting lost in the beauty of the music.  Even the haunting beginning is beautiful.  Certainly it requires a swift movement of your wrist and the careful positioning of your body, but in order for the music to transform into a story it requires something more. Soul.  Visible passion.  The convulsion of your body as your whole being pours into telling the story.  By the end of the piece, you are exhausted.  Your bow needs to be rosined.  You have nothing more to give.  You wonder if it was worth giving anything at all.  Why did you not listen to the ominous melody of the opening bars?

The Past: It has been 3 years since we all played this wonderful piece on a stage together for a man we loved.  He taught us how to grow, how to love, and how to pick up the pieces when everything fell apart.  2005 was such a wonderful year for me.  We began working on the Dvorak then, and the eerie beginning (although obviously ominous) seemed so playful.  It was fun to step in someone else's shoes for a while.  As spring came, and we poured more of ourselves into the piece it became clearer that we were living the story.  Something was not right.  Sure enough, summer came and tore everything apart.  My heart was shattered, my dad spent most of the summer in the hospital, Wyatt was shot, and Stringer left us.  That's the price we pay for becoming so wrapped up in the music's story.  

The Present: Despite the incredible amount of strength depicted in the piece, I feel an overwhelming amount of weakness each time I hear it.  I love how it still connects all of us.  One of the eight posts it somewhere, and we all know we are in the same place: abandoned, feeling insecure, wondering if what we give will ever be enough.  One feels the hurt for all eight, and we all cry.  This piece brought out the best in us one night on a stage, but now highlights our every faults.  Oh, how it depicts all of my frustrations.  A piece of music without lyrics says all the things I can not say.  It says all the things I would never dare to say.  As I hurt for a friend that is hurting (outside the eight) I wonder if I should pass on this music to him.  I wonder if it will offer him the same twisted hope it offers all of us.  Maybe he will come out of it like we all did: so much stronger, braver, and human.  

Oh, Dvorak.  Do you know what you have done to my soul?  To my head?  It is more clouded than ever.  I tried to listen to Greig's Ase's Tod, but it does not evoke the same emotions it once did.  Oh, you frustrate me with your genius craftsmanship of lines and spaces.  I pray I remain brave.  I pray I know when to crescendo and decrescendo.  I pray I know when to rest and when to play with my frog close to the bridge.