Earth Shattering

When I was a little girl my biggest dreams were of wedding dresses

and a prince on a big white horse

Like in the movies I would ride away

Perhaps into the sun or into the night

and I would live my happily ever after –

This is not to say that happily ever after does not exist –

this is to say that the fairy tales are a lie

and the little girl still somewhere inside of me

has excepted it.

She still loves sappy TV and romantic comedies

A prince coming to save her is still at the heart of her every dream

But the woman realizes that after the prince comes to save the princess

the princess realizes she doesn’t need saving.

This is not to say that she does not need a prince.

She needs her prince – with or without a crown –

to kiss her forehead

hold her hand

reassure her that everything will be

just fine.

She needs her prince to tell her that he loves her

on her darkest days

when she struggles to love herself but to also tell her to always

love herself.

The fairy tales are a lie

but the reality is beautiful

and worth waiting for.

The reality is saving yourself

and still riding away with your prince.

 

– Chan Eliza

I Know

I know you unlike anyone

I know the gleam in your eyes when you are happy and

the tilt of your head just slightly when you are sad.

I know the way you like your coffee in the morning

way too much sugar and just the right amount of

wake up.

I know your laugh and how

it changes when you are with different people.

My heart knows your heart.

We are like old friends that only just met

years ago or maybe centuries

I know when you are hurting.

I know when you need a hug or

ten shots of something too strong

I know you feel like giving up.

The weight of the world feels too heavy on your shoulders

And you feel alone but

I know that you are not.

I do not know all of the answers.

I don’t know the future, I’m not even sure of the present

I have never been good at adding or subtracting

but I know that I would do anything

to keep you from drowning.

I know that if you were too jump

I would be at the bottom to catch you.

This is messy

We are messy

The world is messy

But I know my world isn’t my world without you in it.

 

-Chan Eliza

For the love of an Introvert

I am an introvert. The dictionary definition describes us as “a person predominantly concerned with their own thoughts and feelings rather than with external things”, as opposed to the dictionary definition of an extrovert being – “a person predominantly concerned with external things or objective considerations”. These are the psychological definitions, while simplified labels are shy versus outgoing. While no one can be boxed completely into either category, we all lean more heavily into one state of being. For me, I have always enjoyed the quiet of being alone with my thoughts, rather than abundant conversations and other activities that require me to socialize.

There is always an exception to this rule. Of course, I enjoy hanging out with my family and friends, and if you were to see me around my family, best friend or boyfriend, you would have no idea that I am normally very quiet and closed off.

While the dictionary would label me as “shy”, this isn’t a term I connect with. I choose to keep to myself not because I am nervous or timid, but simply because that is what feels right to me. Sure, I have a history with social anxiety, but this keeps me from leaving my house – not from speaking when I actually do. I have no problem expressing my opinion if I am angry or irritated, or overjoyed even. I just don’t feel the need to always speak on the mundane and simple topics that normally fill everyday conversation.

For the longest time, I was ashamed to be labeled as an introvert. I thought there must be something wrong with me, some wiring in my brain that kept me from wanting to talk. I would beat myself up over it, and admire the people that could strike up a conversation about the tiniest of things, making friends as easy as counting to three.

I embrace the label now. I am proudly an introvert – if you feel the need to label me this way – because of the qualities that come with it. I am a good listener, an abundant feeler, and when I do choose to speak, I know I am saying the right thing. My opinions and thoughts are well thought out, I care deeply about everything and everyone, and I enjoy my own company. I don’t fear being alone with my thoughts anymore, because I am one of my own best friends.

Which label do you fall under? I personally find that most of us fall somewhere in between, and that is perfectly okay.

 

Wait, you met your Boyfriend when??

My boyfriend and I met in High School. Almost every time I say this, I am met with negativity and doubts. Common opinions that I have never asked for consist of “You aren’t going to last”, and “There’s no way you can know you’re in love that young”. I’m not here to fight those comments. They are opinions, and frankly, I don’t have time for them.

However, I do want to talk about my relationship. When I sat down to write today, my intention was to touch on having hard days, but instead, the only thing I could think about was how Blaine and I met. Now, I’m not sure if that’s because I’m sitting in our apartment together, surrounded by a combination of our things, or if I just miss him, having not seen him in over two weeks. But whatever the reason, I decided to take this opportunity to reflect.

Blaine and I met in a High School physics class. Being a socially awkward teen who also had a distinct dislike for most people my own age and their drama, I often chose to sit as far away from my classmates as possible. In physics, this meant the table closest to the teacher. For several classes, this worked well. I was able to do my work in peace, only having to hear the distant babbling about whatever trivial matter my classmates were angry about that day.

That was until Blaine sat down next to me. I don’t remember exactly why he moved seats. If by choice, or by partnered assignment, but whatever the reason, my initial response was annoyance. How dare this guy dare intrude on my perfect order? I come to class, I answer a few questions, avoid all contact with other teenagers, and I go home. Over the next couple of days though, my attitude quickly shifted. I began to look forward to the forty five minutes in which Blaine and I would pretend to be talking physics, instead quietly getting to know each other.

Soon, we were meeting outside of school. We would go to the movies where I would say I didn’t want any popcorn and then proceed to eat all of his. This resulted in the tradition of one large popcorn and one large drink to share. We would go for walks and just talk about everything from big world problems to trivial matters.

I could write a whole post on when I knew I loved him. I could devote pages to the tiny moments in which I am reminded of the many reasons he is my one and only. However, those are stories for another day.

To this day, we joke that we owe our whole relationship to a piece of gum. It became ritual that at the beginning of every class period, I would ask him for a piece of gum. He always seemed to have a pack patiently waiting in his bag, an endless supply. Whether I have gum or the universe to thank for putting us together, I thank both.

However many years ago, as a teenager struggling to figure out who I was as a person, I never would have imagined that as a 21 year old, I would be living four hours from home with the love of my life. I never would have thought that I would meet that man at my least favorite place – school. I never would have thought that we would be celebrating three years together, and looking at many more amazing years and memories to come.

Blaine and I in ways are polar opposites. He loves playing video games and building model tanks, while I love reading and writing. He is obsessed with history, while English is more my forte. He’s slightly more outgoing than I am, but we both love sitting at home watching a movie and eating pizza. Whatever it is that makes two people compatible, we have it, even if on the outside, we don’t appear to be a perfect fit.

I’m not sure exactly what the object of this post is, other than just to say that true love doesn’t know age. Love doesn’t know society’s rules of what is right and wrong. Love doesn’t know gender, race, or backgrounds. It doesn’t matter if you meet them in High School, or when you’re forty five, when you meet “the one”, you’ll know.

I don’t know how to end this ramble of a post, so I’ll just end it by saying this. Love who you love. Don’t let other people dictate if that is right or wrong – your heart knows.

And maybe take a minute to reflect on your love story. I would love to hear all about it in the comments! This world could always use a bit more love.

Sisters, Biological and Other

Anybody who knows me, knows I’m the middle child of three girls. It’s not exactly something I keep a secret, being the middle child irritated me for the longest time. Growing up, it seemed no matter what happened, I was always in the middle. My older sister got things first, my younger sister got things last, and I just…well I just existed. This isn’t a new realization. Middle children have been screaming their battle cries for decades. There is a reason we are commonly known as the most outspoken, the loudest. We have fought our whole lives for a spot in our own families, it isn’t hard for us to fight for a spot in the world as well.

As I grew up, however, it became less important to me where I ranked in the birth order of my siblings, and more important that I even had them. My sisters, biological and other, have been my best friends since the minute I was born. Well, in my younger sisters case, since the minute she was born. Our house has always been full of estrogen, arguments fueled by hormones, and way too much clothes. The smell of perfume has always been suffocating, and nothing is just yours unless you write your name on it. Even then, ownership is risky.

Having sisters means always having a friend. And whether this is a cliche or not, it’s an undeniable truth. I can’t preach about the amazing life of having a brother, as many do. When I was younger, having a big brother was something I dreamed about endlessly, picturing a protective figure, someone who always had my back while also making my life a living hell with his teasing and harmless jokes. Instead though, I found this in cousins, in uncles, and in my father. Every gap I thought existed was filled in one way or another, my sisters and I forming a small group of soldiers that were a force to be reckoned with.

Since the youngest sister was born, our band has been known as the Three Elles. A title given to us fondly for the ending of all of our names. It was always a given however, that when you saw those three blonde heads in the crowd, there was always a certain brunette to be found somewhere close by. Another sister, not biological, but to me just as important. Us four, we are the ocean, and no matter where we wander, how far apart we may float, when one of us needs the other, our waves will come crashing down in unison.

Families, siblings, they are essential, and each bond is unique, something that can’t be explained in mere paragraphs. For me, these bonds would take novels to even brush the surface of the love I feel for each person in my tiny army. My wonderful parents would need trilogies all to themselves, a story for another day. However, as this tiny circle starts to grow, adding brother in laws, significant others, nephews and nieces, there isn’t a single thing in this world I am more thankful for than my tiny little army. Sisters, biological or other.

Loving him is like breathing

Long distance relationships are easy

Like climbing a ladder with no rungs is not hard

Why would someone climb a ladder with no rungs you say? – Why would someone choose to live with their heart beating outside of their chests when the task of existing is already so defeating –

But when he kisses me

When I kiss him

When phone screens become lips and

Emojis are whispers in the dark

Long distance relationships are easy

Like getting lost in the pages of your favorite book

You would not just stop reading

Your favorite book simple

Because you can only read

The hard copy once a year

Why should this be any different?

You say

Wouldn’t it be easier to be with

Someone here – someone you don’t have to wait on –

Life is not a movie and

I would rather have a love I am

Sure of over stretching miles

That turn into tumultuous waves

Than a bland love I have to question

In the silences between the dark and the light

No

Long distance relationships are easy

Like breathing

Or jumping into the wind

Trusting the arms below to break

Your fall

 

Chan Eliza