Buffalo Hearts

What I like the most.

"Humans are the only animal that blushes, laughs, has religion, wages war, and kisses with lips. So in a way, the more you kiss with lips, the more human you are. And the more you wage war." — Jonathan Safran Foer (Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close)

When I die and they ask me what I liked the most about life. I will tell them, without hesistation, kissing. It was most definately the kissing.

16

I'm a bit of a masochist. I like forcing myself to do things I don't always like. To make myself do something others might think is hard, or crazy. Why? There is something in me that pushes me. That makes me think I'm never doing enough. Never fast enough, never far enough, never busy enough, never good enough. I'm in a constant battle to prove myself to...well to myself. And your always your worst critic.

I ran sixteen miles on Saturday. SIXTEEN. I've run it before, I've run farther before, there are people that run sixteen as a warm up. But for some reason, on this particular day, on this particular run, I had a turning point. For the season, for my training, for everything. I usually get pretty hard on myself when I'm running. Don't stop. Keep pace. RUN FASTER. And I usually can't keep up with myself. But this time I did. I kept pace, I didn't stop, and when I did, I continued to encourage. Good job, your doing great, only a few more to go. The kind of encouragement you get from your friends and family. I don't have that anymore, or I don't allow myself to have that. It's me and only me out there. It's me and only me crossing the finish line. It's me and only me dressing the blister's and wrapping my ankle, and icing my knee.
When I got home, I lost it on my front stairs. Not crying, but sobbing, the way I did after I finished my first marathon. I don't think it was so much the run or the exhaustion that made me cry though...

There is something amazing about awakening after a life time of being hard on yourself, for no particular reason, other then the fact that you can, and really taking pride, finally, in something you did. That the time doesn't matter, or what place you came in, but that you finished something. Something that was hard, something that was crazy. Something you knew you could always do, if you just let yourself do it. And finally be PROUD of that.

: )

You.
You do that thing and my heart melts.
I’m not normally that type of girl, I’ve never been.
Until recently. I blame it on the cold winters.
And I’m glad. Glad that they’ve been hard, and…cold.
Dark, mysterious you.
Tickle.
My.
Face.
It seems silly that all along you were right there.
Under my nose, per se.
I have been so blind.
But now to finally be face to face
To get to see you grow and change.
Never afraid to go back to how things were,
To try things over and over again, and if it looked right, then why change?
Such bravery, and lightheartedness, and maturity all rolled into one.
I can’t believe I’ve finally found you.