9/6/10

3 little stops and you once thought the weight of the world was held in those moments
Thought love lurked around the corner
Thought promise was held in his hands
But they were held in yours all along
And there are men who will love the smile in your eyes
The fire in your heart
The fear of G-d in your soul
Love will consume you when you're ready
When you've deciphered the difference between infatuation and till death do us part
There will be time for passion, but only after there has been soul searching
Strengthen your connection with the All Mighty
For He will always be there in times of need
Walk with G-d when those around you won't
Remember body and brain are Holy
For they elevate the typewriter too

Hey girl keep your head up because if there's a G-d who loves you there's a man who will too. He'll carry fire in his belly and love in his heart, and the only tears you'll cry from him will be of joy when he gets down on one knee and tells you how this moment was waiting just for you. He'll know how to build things (like your father), he'll know how to fix things (like your father), and he'll know secrets that make your toes curl. He'll be the man to teach your sons to be men - teach them how to love a woman right - and teach your daughters to love themselves enough to never let a single man take away their self-worth (like you did). He won't be perfect but perfectly for you. He's out there, because if you believe there's a G-d and that He's everywhere then you just have to believe...

9/2/10

I'm trying to understand this thing called love. Why we as humans have this basic need for love. To love another, but more importantly to be loved. Why we hit a certain age where this quest for love consumes us, and if it didn't then happiness would come easier.

Why we feel less valuable without love. Why we cling when there's a glimpse of love in our midst, allow ourselves to be set up for a crushing fall when things don't go as that sliver of hope counted on.

Once, I wasn't 28. Once, I wasn't like this. Didn't feel this deadline looming over my head. I always looked for love in all the wrong places. Always looked for love lurking around the corner. But never like this. Never with this urgency. This rush. This disappointment. How do we reconcile this need for love? The weight of the world is love and now it's resting heavy on my shoulders to the point where my eyes brim with tears threatening to come out at any given moment at the thought of once potential lovers who just want to take take take so much all at once and then without a moment's notice just leave with everything they were able to get out, and when you've already been sucked dry what else is left to give to the next? But the thing is, just when we think there's nothing left to give there's always some reserve we find tucked away far behind our secrets we save for late nights staying up with lovers licking opened wounds.

I've tried praying. I've tried talking to G-d sincerely and earnestly, leveling with Him, bargaining. I've written a list hoping it would manifest itself in the form of a perfect person created just to complement me. I've threatened to switch teams when I've become too jaded. And I know the advice that will be given is to not sweat it and not stress. Is anyone able to do that successfully without the help of our vices to distract us? How strong can I pretend to be before I crumble underneath the gaze of a man who holds the promise of a future in his hands?

8/29/10

Your disingenuous ways have made me question everything
Like why men feign love and devotion all for the sake of sex that doesn't happen
Why 3 subway stops once separated my heart from yours
Left me waiting and anticipating
Seemed like infinite hours
And now I can't wait for you to be so far away from my F train.
You can keep the G
Be gone with it. Ride it all the way to San Francisco.
There will be no flowers left at your doorstep for you to place in your hair
No silent vigils when you leave
No dramatic returns of items that belong to you
Just the waiting and the waiting and the glorious waiting for you to leave this borough that was/is yours
Will soon be mine
Waiting waiting delicious waiting for Brooklyn to become my new love
My new lover
I will go down on Brooklyn
Go down in Brooklyn
Brooklyn and I will go down in history as being the most genuine couple
Novels will be written about us
Posters with our bodies on it
Musky oils made to smell like our sex
Left as lingering reminders
Evoking memories of summer love that expired well before its time.

Bearded men not Jewish
Kipa wearers
Married facial-haired men are the only "trust-worthy" ones
I fight to wake up another day
I fight through crowds
Beards
Accents
Don't talk to me
I wear pants to confuse you
Let's meet for a drink and talk Torah
I'll tell you how Jerusalem lacks Holiness for me
I'll confuse you
Maybe I'll shock you
Maybe that's what I want
Maybe I don't know what I want
Summer's slipping through my fingers
So's my libido
It happens
I'll just drink and dance
And you'll pause
Scratch your head
Shake it
Shake me away

This suddenly feels like a bad f*cking idea

I like to say that nine years ago I could have never predicted that I'd turn out to be "modern orthodox," however I know the truth is otherwise. That if someone would have let me peek at my future amidst hits of ecstasy, I would've known this to be true. That eventually, somewhere along my life's graph, I would find meaning in the mundane; open my heart to belief; that one day I would find G-d, whether at that moment in time or 20 years from then, I knew it would happen; I could see it coming.

So why then, 9 years down the line, when I'm the girl who bares cleavage while making brachot, would I willingly enter a living arrangement with more potential difficulties than ease? Maybe it makes sense within the confusion, as I never seem to go for the easy choices, for the decisions that always follow logic. No, instead I go against the grain. Throw logic to the wind and tell G-d in defiance that I'll make it work, as if He has no choice in what will happen. But it's too late now. No turning back. No matter what, no matter how cyclical life becomes. It always seems a lost job is paired with a new apartment. Change your makom and you change your mazal, but is this any better? Time will tell.

So now I'm in the market for a bearded man who I can trust. Who will come bearing a blow torch and secrets of the Torah. Who will help make my home as Holy as it can be in the moment. It's funny how this whole time I was more concerned about kashering the kitchen than the size of my bedroom; toveling dishes over living room decor. And of course immediately after signing my soul to the devil all thoughts turn to Israel, and my heart has never experienced such hurt as seeing photos for the first time of a friend's ripening belly, round and ready to raise the future. These things, they happen. Life happens. Without caution. No stopping it now so I must go with the flow as cliched as I may become. There was another ending but then I got tired.

8/3/10

Looking at you makes me sick.
It didn't always.
I actually rather fancied you until you turned into an asshole.
Or at least in my eyes.

I don't want to love you anymore.
Don't have the urge to have your babies
Hold your hand
Stroke your hair
Or look you straight in the eye.
Instead, when I see your face, I have to hold myself back from vomiting just a little bit.

You became the rule when I thought you were the exception.
And now I'm realizing there are no exceptions.
At least not in my world.
So thank you for finally showing your true colors like they all seem to do.
Eventually.