He Thought About It (Or Rather Her)

He thought about it. (Pick up the nearest book, turn to page 49 and use the first sentence as a writing prompt.... nearest book was Who Moved My Cheese by Spencer Johnson M.D.)




Her eyes were a keen sort of brown, now that he thought about it, lit with a fire and imagination that he would never fully comprehend. Those eyes had seen much more pain and desolation than they ever ought to have witnessed. But then, they were not hardened to the human plight. This translated through the way she moved, the gentleness of her hands, through her very bearing when confronted by those in pain.
He had never met another woman quite like this Charlotte and she touched a place in his heart that he had thought to be cut out and burned a long time ago. As he gazed out the window at the falling snow he wondered whose hearth she knelt as that night, tending to the fire intermittently while she comforted the household and more importantly the invalid she had come to minister to directly.
It was indeed a marvel that she wasn't oftener sick than the rogue cold that was sometimes the aftermath of being kept awake over too many days in the vigil of the healer. He had never personally called her to his side when he was ill, though he had thought about it from time to time. But her attention was far too much for one such as himself to afford. Not that she charged exorbitant prices for her services (for she actually only asked for sustenance when she was at a particular home for a prolonged amount of time) but he could not afford her. He felt himself unworthy of even the smile she sometimes cast his way when he passed her in the marketplace as she made her tired but no less cheerful way home (though, sometimes it was more melancholy if she had not been able to save whoever she had been asked to tend).
However, she always smiled at him. The dimple in her cheek leaving a sweet indentation pointed to by the corner of her mouth much like the Big Dipper and the North Star. She always greeted him in the same warm manner. "Good day, Charles. I hope your mother is well?" To which he would nod, no words being able to issue forth from his mouth until she passed, out of earshot once again.
The crackle of the fire snapping more sharply than it had all day recalled him to the company he kept. His mother, Ms. Mosgrave, was reading a book Charlotte had recommended to her after having treated her cold a month or so ago. And they were joined that particular evening by Sophia Croft, the woman he was expected to marry. She, with her blue eyes, looked at him expectantly and he remembered with a jolt that she had asked him if he had been feeling well. Had he answered the question already and she had asked another? Or had he lost himself in thinking about how he had been feeling under the weather and started to think about Charlotte instead of answering aloud.
"I... I am sorry, Miss Croft. What was the question?" She laughed and he felt the tension mount in his shoulders. He didn't like it when she laughed--it always felt as though she were enjoying a private joke.
"I asked if you have been well," she prompted, "and then, rather suddenly, you walked to the window and looked out as if the answer was there and not actually within your own self."
He nodded almost absently before nodding firmly. Sophia needn't know he was unwell for she would surely insist upon staying until he was quite well.
"I am well," he finally answered to which her eyes narrowed the smallest degree but her smile remained the same. "And how are you, Miss Croft?"
"Won't you call me Sophia? You have been courting me after all for the past year," she said, a tightening at the corners of her eyes gave away her consternation at the fact that he still refused to address her informally as would befit one in love. But he was not in love, regardless of how everyone else felt about the match.
Now if it had been Charlotte...
Charlotte called everyone in the town by their first name and only those who were jealous of her freedom scorned her for the informality of her very person. But then again, she had helped in the birth of the vast majority of the town and though she didn't look it, she was older than the vast majority as well. Token of her being a witch and longer lived than the normal folk.
Indeed, she had assisted in the delivery of himself from Ms. Mosgrave, before his father died away on a journey he should not have taken in the first place and had been warned away from by Charlotte herself.
But though she was older than he, Charles had no qualms in loving her just the same as if she was younger than he as her appearance suggested.
"Charles?" Sophia prompted, the agitation more prominent in her features as he looked over at her and saw his mother pause in her reading and look at him with a spark of amusement in her weathered features. She had told him that the day would come when Sophia would stop putting up patiently with his tendency to start thinking about topics unknown. Aside from that, Ms. Mosgrave had confronted him a number of times and though he never admitted to her being spot on, she had surmised just what or rather WHO he thought of in the times when he was suddenly absent from the conversation.

Of Past Trips and Conversations--Application

After almost a full year, I finally went home this past week. 
I went as a surprise for my younger sister who was graduating on Saturday and though there were a few close calls, my cover was not blown in the end and it was all a grand success. It was wonderful not just because I got to help celebrate such an occasion, but my older brother was also there (though he was initially there for business and would continue on at home a little longer after I left). 
My brother and I are just like any other pair of siblings--getting on each others' nerves, knowing what buttons to push to elicit the most extreme reactions, etc. But I am grateful to know that at the end of the day, we love one another and that is what truly matters. We are certainly still ironing out the ways of stepping around those words that will make us fight but love is the base. 
One of my evenings there, we sat up talking and once my parents were in bed, he switched the topic to what he must have been planning for a while up until that point to speak to me about. 
As with every young adult, I am trying to find my way in this world but the more I go in the direction that I think will lead me to the end all be all of happiness the more I feel that I am simply banging my head against the wall. 
It irritates me to look back at high school and see how much I achieved and how easy it seemed at the time. And now, school, college, is the biggest struggle I have but even when I succeed little by little, it brings no real sense of peace... rather a grim sense of accomplishment that I am that much closer to the milestone I believe everyone expects me to achieve. 
I don't know about you, but I despise myself for living this way and yet it is the path directly in front of me so why shouldn't I traverse it?
My brother combated this idea with another: not why not traverse it but WHY? Stop thinking of the reasons I should not choose something different and think of WHY I am so bullheaded in my pursuit of this path if it brings no satisfaction into my heart.
Forget everyone else and their expectations and urgings and turn inward, just this once.
He asked me why I, as Cassidy, am trying to follow this path and behind those words I felt the current whether he meant to put it there or not of why am I trying to follow this path when it is obviously not working and merely causing a hiccup-like progression in my life?

After thinking about it, I finally came up with an answer that might not be all encompassing but is at least a start. It is because I have been brought up and taught that we must seek learning, be an educated people. The scripture that comes to mind can be found in the Doctrine and Covenants from the scriptures I as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints read--section 88:118:

 "...yea, seek ye out of the best books words of wisdom; seek learning, even by study and also by faith."

This bit has always intrigued me but I wasn't ever sure what it meant. What I am starting to realize is it means exactly what it says; "seek" learning and knowledge by your study and faith. This encourages the idea in my mind that as long as I am continually learning and growing in wisdom and knowledge and leaning to the Lord's understanding when I fall short, then who says it has to be within the strict institution of a college campus?

Just a note here, I am not bagging on college or any other sort of "higher institution" and I especially believe in the words of my mother when she told me that I should attend high school as if I were to go to college, because at least then, if my attempt to move on with life without college should fail, I will have taken the classes and tests needed to recommend me to those who have the charge to admit students into the school.

A lot of unnecessary grief has been laced in my relationship with my parents over the issue of my living alone and supporting myself. But we have talked about it and over time, I believe we have come to a sort of balance that will only increase in sturdiness over time. 


(I am continuing this post after about a year and a half.)

I am not currently taking classes at the Y. Rather, I am solely working at the Covey Center and working on becoming truly solid in my independence. As I have written a couple times, I discovered my depression and I wonder if that isn't another reason why the whole institution wasn't working out or even if it added to my reasons to suffer. 
Regardless, I am here. Working and coming up on my one year mark at the Covey. I am slowly coming to the realization that I need to work more on my spirituality and growth in my testimony than in anything else that I could possibly pursue at this time. 
So that is what I am doing. I am reading the Book of Mormon, again, along with some manuals that are intended to prepare me for future covenants with the Lord, whether I face the covenants alone or with the man that the Lord has prepared for me.
So. I'm working on me. Becoming the woman the Lord intended me to be. College has been put on hold. Testimony is being kicked into gear. I am on my way to healing the hurts of the past 4 years and doing my best. 

Wish me luck!

Angels

So, I have had a couple conversations lately that have been weighing on my mind and there has been a topic that keeps coming up. I keep being told to pray and the Lord will help me or I've been informed that others I know have been praying and asking the Lord for help and so they believe that is where help will come from.
But did you ever stop to consider that I have prayed? Desperately asking for help, for a friend, for compassion, for understanding? Is that not what you have prayed for as well? For help? A friend? Compassion? Understanding?
I am not saying that you shouldn't pray, or that prayer doesn't work (my life and the lives of those around me are testament enough that there is a Christ, a loving God who looks out for us on a daily basis) but what if you're missing the answers?
Remember the story we have been told multiple times over about the man sitting on his rooftop in the midst of a terrible flood? He prayed and prayed for the Lord to save him, to help him. He is then visited by people on a raft, in a boat and lastly at the time of greatest peril a helicopter and they are there to give him a hand to lift him to safety. But he turns them all away saying that, with the greatest of his faith, that the Lord will save him.
I am a firm believer in the idea that the Lord is in the details of our lives. The people with whom we cross paths aren't there merely by coincidence but because we learn from each person who touches our lives for good (or ill, as the case may be). But how many times must we be told that the Lord will send angels to aid us? To save us? To buoy up our spirits? How many times has a person come into your life when you needed it most and you shook your head saying, "The Lord alone must save me." What if He sent that very person? What if He sent you the raft? The boat? The helicopter? What if you are turning away His help because it isn't as obvious as you expected it to be?
Isn't it said that God works in mysterious ways? That He sends angels to do His will when He cannot be immediately by our side?
I am not saying that I am not guilty of turning away the raft, or even the helicopter. Perhaps I have done it more than I will ever be able to count.




So, sadly, I am at work and in between the above and now the fire has been taken out of me... it's been a rather stressful day.
In short, don't turn away something instantly because it seems too beautiful to be true or you don't feel deserving of it. The Lord wouldn't put it there if He didn't mean for you to at least try to incorporate it into your life.
I love you, my friends, please allow me to help you when I offer. It helps me to turn my thoughts outward. If you don't want it, please be considerate of the fact that it may have taken me a lot of courage to offer in the first place. Sorry.

Let's Be Honest

Just to start us off.... I may as well just own up to what this blog really, truly is and that is in fact that it is a dating blog--my take on dating, my opinions on it, and my scrutiny and commentary on my experiences with the dratted thing. 

Ah. Now that that is out of the way, onward.

This evening, as I was brushing out and braiding a wig I purchased the other day from WalMart (still unsure if it will actually be used in this year's Halloween costume) I was having one of my imaginary conversations. The topic being why I never want to hear the words "you look amazing/beautiful/pretty/cute (insert word of choice)" from the men that break my heart because, let's face it, it is really painful to be told you are "everything I could want" and then be rejected for the exact same reasons (apparently, it is possible). However, as I was getting all my feeling on the subject out into the void I came to a realization, an epiphany if you will, as to why it hasn't worked with the guys who, at the end of the day, DO want me and have made their stance perfectly clear on the idea that I am the one they want to wake up to for the rest of their lives.

Basically, I came to the realization that the reason it hasn't worked with them is because they want to possess me. Wait, what? Don't you mean they want to be in a relationship with you? No. Possess. And this is what I mean--I am okay with someone expressing jealousy over my spending time with others but when it happens after any portion of time I spend with others? And furthermore when it is followed up with, "I know I can't control what you do BECAUSE (emphasis added) we're not officially together..." Wait. Hold up. 

What makes these people think they will be able to dictate who I can and cannot spend time with once we're dating? Why do they feel the need to "control" me? I grant that every one is entitled to their opinion of others and they are more than welcome to express concern over how much time I spend with my friends (especially, I suppose, those of the opposite sex) but I fully intend to make time for my friends pre-relationship if they in turn are willing to make time for me. 

I think that is one of the reasons I end up falling for the people I do because they constantly encourage me (maybe a little too much at times) to spend time with my other friends. Why? Because, as much as they like to spend time with me and have my undivided attention, they realize they shouldn't be the center of my life and world. 

I have a feeling some persons out there will call me a liar but the idea of giving up my independence terrifies me. The idea that I won't be able to make plans without checking everything with my significant other makes me at least a little sick. Sure, there are times (sometimes a full week or so at a time) where they are the only person I really care to be around (being an introvert at heart, I believe, does that to a person) but that won't always be the case. There are a few select men in my life that I fully intend to continue healthy friendships with after the whole marriage shenanigan and you better believe I don't aim to marry someone who cannot be mature enough to share my time with them without going into a jealous, huffy-and-puffy, pouting, rage. 

Yes. I want someone to want me one day. Someone who will want my attention as often as I can give it. But I also want someone who will set me free from this idea that I will be theirs to "control" and possess once I "finally" submit myself to being their girlfriend and finally wife. 

I am sorry... but I am not sorry that I do not want you to put me on a pedestal out of reach of everyone I have every enjoyed spending time with, giving care to, and generally being in relationships with. I am not Rapunzel and heaven forbid you go all Mother Gothel on me. Because, let's face it, that's just creepy... plus, I really don't have a lot of hair to begin with. ;)