You know me, I love a good story.

Everyone has stories. A person's life is made up of a series of stories, some joyful, some hilarious, some ironic, some tragic. Some of these stories we tell to a group of friends with comedic precision. Others we keep secret, silent, shared only in the dark, between the sheets. It's these stories that make us human, that help us to connect with others. It's through the exchange of stories we know we're not alone.

Sometimes, all we know about other people comes from the stories others tell about them.  I never knew my granddad. He died when I was a year old. All I know about  Bennion Rhead Cannon comes from stories my family has told over and over. All I have are the stories.

There is a time in my life that I try not to think about. Even though it spanned four years, I avoid thinking about any moment from then because when that time ended, it ended horrifically, painfully. Now when I think back to that time, it brings a terrible mixture of sorrow and happiness.

But lately, I've been thinking about moments, of stories from that time that weren't bad, that were actually quite lovely. Like when I spent the night with Josh and we took shots of rum out of wine glasses. Or when Sean and I would go shooting together. Or when I spent Easter weekend with Sage's family. Or when Brian and I stayed up all night talking about philosophy. Or watching Pan's Labyrinth with Gus. Or any memory with Gus. Those were all wonderful times. Those are all wonderful stories.

The span of those four years is itself one giant story, one with a tragic ending. But individual chapters or even small paragraphs are good stories, wonderful stories, stories worth remembering.

I can't let the overall bad ending make me forget the good stories in between.

Love you.
Mean it.

My Scarlet Letter

I did it. I finally got my tattoo. I've been planning on doing this for a few years now. I've even referenced it in one of my poems (titled Pride in Myself, which you can read here). I was originally going to get it (as the poem suggests) on my back shoulder but I switched to my right wrist. I figured if I was going to get something so significant to me permanently placed on my body, I wanted to be able to see it daily. 

A lot of people have been asking me about the meaning behind my tattoo. For starters, it's a scarlet letter. The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne is one of my favorite novels ever. It's beautiful, tragic, devastating, and sincerely hopeful. I just love it. 

My scarlet letter stands for Proud. That is my sin. Only I don't really view it as a sin. Let me explain. 

I've spent the majority of my life hating myself. I hated my life and often wished I didn't exist. It took me years of hard struggling to finally get to where I am today. I love myself, I love my life, and everything in my life. The only trouble is now people accuse me of being prideful, of thinking too highly of myself. To that, all I can say is they have no idea how long it took and how hard it was for me to get to this point where I love myself. If that means I'm proud, then I'll wear my scarlet sin for the world to see. 

I couldn't be happier with my tattoo. Every time I look at it, I want to giggle with giddiness. I feel free, liberated. This summer I had four goals I wanted to accomplish. With a week left of summer, I'm glad I accomplished one of them.

Love you.

Mean it. 

Long Nights

I can remember long nights talking to you. It's how we ended each day.
Whoever went to bed first called or texted the other to say goodnight.
I'd try to remember your smell as I struggled to stay awake so I could talk to you for just a bit longer.
I remember you making me laugh in the darkness, even though we were hundreds of miles away.
I don't remember what we talked about. It was probably mostly about nothing.
But I guess, in the end, it didn't matter.
Because all of those conversations about nothing "meant more to me than so many somethings."
I remember those long nights, falling asleep to your voice.

Not everything that happened between us was bad.

Love you.
Mean it.