Along the Lines of Fifteen

I'm fifteen.

I've held my sisters close as mom and dad fight upstairs.  Their questions hurt and their tears burn, but my own eyes are dry as I break off pieces of chocolate and read them a story.  As I hold them close, I wish that I was the one being held.

I'm fifteen.

I've fallen in love, and we are skating around the Olympic oval.  Really, though, you are pulling me as my knees and hands shake from the lack of food I've eaten coupled with the fact that I can't skate at all.  As we wait for my mother (who still doesn't know you exist) to pick me and my three or four other friends, you pull me in close, and give me a tender, sweet kiss.

I'm fifteen.

I've grown up a lot since our first kiss.  Carrie Underwood is playing as I write a letter, the words blurring in my eyes and my chest aching.  There is a lot of wisdom in the words I write you, though it is breaking my heart as you walk through your door and pull me close and tight into your arms, my letter crushed between us as I cry into your shoulder.

I'm fifteen.

I'm sitting on the couch, watching as Michael Phelps wins another gold medal, smiling at your excitement.  We are alone, and your arm around me was all I wanted.  You are warm and safe, comforting and secure, and I smile as you wrap me in a tight hug.  Already you are pulling me together, and the hurt from him is slowly fading.

I'm fifteen.

I want someone to hold me and tell me it will be okay, like I have done so many times.  I want to love innocently and naively, and be loved just as youthfully back.  I want to have the strength and courage that helped me write those words.  I want to feel the safety of a friend's arms wrapped around me, holding me together, when I thought I couldn't be more broken.

Along the Lines of Sweethearts

Because life is bizarre and someone up in heaven is having one hell of a time writing the story of my life, I was nominated for Sweethearts' Royalty last week.  Mostly in spite of Michael and other jerks, I decided to run for kicks and giggles.  Imagine my shock when I won First Attendant.  As I was looking back on all of the crazy things I did last week and thought about what I had done and how far I'd come and the theme of the dance, I realized how appropriate the theme was, at least for me.  And so, I decided to post the lyrics, because I'm having a difficult time with words today.

"I Hope You Dance" by Lee Ann Womack

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat
But always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed

I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance
I hope you dance

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances
But they're worth taking
Lovin' might be a mistake
But it's worth making
Don't let some hell bent heart
Leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out
Reconsider
Give the heavens above
More than just a passing glance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance
(Time is a real and constant motion always)
I hope you dance
(Rolling us along)
I hope you dance
(Tell me who)
I hope you dance
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
(Where those years have gone)

I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
Dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
(Time is a real and constant motion always)
I hope you dance
(Rolling us along)
I hope you dance
(Tell me who)
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
I hope you dance
(Where those years have gone)

I hope you dance