Dear (Insert Name Here), #1

Dear (Insert Name Here),

I haven't been very honest with you over the years, but this
is no surprise to you I'm sure. You have always had a way of
knowing something even when I never said a thing. I guess
that intuition thing was more accurate than you or I wanted to
believe. But as I was saying, I have kept many things
from you and I decided that the only way to tell you would be
for me to write this letter, memorize it, then approach you
with my manly stance and a voice of conviction. The things
I'm going to tell you aren't easy for me to say and may not
be easy for you to hear. One thing will be clear, after
hearing this, you will either want to be with me for the rest
of your life or you will never want to smell any scent that
reminds you of me.

Ever since the first time I saw you, I knew we would have a
future. I was sure that any girl that could take my breath
away with her smile and could make me feel at peace with
her voice was definitely my heart's desire. Whether you
acknowledge it or not, even though we have not been together,
the time that elapses during spells of no communication never
seem to diminish our connection. Whenever I have good
news or bad, you are always there, even more than I am
for you. But that's what I want to change. I want to be there
for you, loving you beyond a shadow of a doubt so that when
you feel low, high or somewhere in between, you know that I'm
right here, for you.

Many times I look back on the days we had and wonder why didn't
I realize what I truly needed because right now, I know that over
the past few years I have really needed you. I have made it but
it would've been a lot sweeter to make it with you. Most of the
things you did with and for me are what I feel I've needed in my
life the most. Your support and encouragement has always seen
me through even when I couldn't see the way. I appreciate that
quality in you. I appreciate the woman that you were and the woman
that I have had the privilege of seeing grow over the years.

I proudly admit that the way you loved more has never been
replaced by any other woman that has come into my life after you.
Even the ones who you didn't like or approve of when you were
"just trying to be a good friend to me". Your loving was complete.
It filled me up, it sustained me, it created moments that I still
dream about til this day! No other woman has done that because
no other woman has had the combination of a personality and
beauty that you continue to maintain at the highest level.

Now, I won't say that any man would be blessed to have you in his
life because that is a lie. It's a lie because any man just won't do for
you! You're too special to have any man. But if I'm deemed as any man,
and you decided to give me the opportunity to be with you, I would
spend my life trying not to be any man. I would dedicate my all to you,
to my elusive dream...my greatest joy.

I guess you may be wondering where all of this is coming from. You're
probably wondering why am I telling you this now since we are "just
friends" and that we have agreed that a relationship is just not possible
between us. The most honest answer that I can give is that all of this,
is coming from my heart. All of this is coming from the man within this
shell of a body. All of this is coming from a place inside of a man that
scares me. It scares me because of the intense passion and love that
flows from this place could overtake me and leave me defenseless.
All of this comes from me, a man who realizes that he has always been
in love with you and wants to share and
enjoy love with you for the rest of our lives.

Please understand, I'm not telling you this just because he proposed.
I'm telling you this because I feel like you made a decision based on
some of the facts, not all. I'm not trying to create any drama and I
know this is a selfish thing to do, but if I never said this to you, I
couldn't have forgiven myself. If you still choose him, then you do.
But at least you know that what I'm saying is true. Just look into my
eyes, you know it's there...you can see it, just as you always could.

Her Confession, His Reply

She confessed, "I need to whine tonight". His eye brows rose,
and the lump in his throat moved up and down slowly.

She erupted, "Don't worry about it, I'm going to Jenny's!
A girl's night is beckoning". His chin fell against his sternum,
as a quiet sigh escaped from his lips. "I don't need a daddy!
I have one! He is perfectly capable of performing his fatherly
roles. You have proven that you don't care enough JUST to listen...
I'll see you later." He reached out for her...barely missing her
shoulder as she turned quicker than he anticipated. His lips parted,
"Shelly," but the sound of the door closing muffled his attempt.

Confusion chose his face as its playground. I can't stand to
see her hurting...when she tells me her problems...I don't know,
I just want to see her smile more, laugh more and not be so on edge.
I miss the fun-loving Shelly. So yes, I think of ways to fix or
solve her problems. It's draining to be the one who gets all the
whining, complaining, mood swings and statements of insecurity.
I can't remember the last time she told me a joke or really laughed
with me, much less laughed at herself...I miss her...

As she backed out of the driveway, he burst through the front
door yelling, "I'M NOT TRYING TO BE HIM!
I'M TRYING TO LOVE YOU! I MISS YOU!
I JUST WANNA SEE YOU SMILE AGAIN!"

Immediately stopping and letting down her window, Shelly confessed
again. "What? What did you say? I had the music up too loud. David!
What is it?! It's too hot out here for this!"

Once again, his chin fell against his sternum, as he turned
and went back into the house...see you when you get back...

Turning Choices Into Memories

Regardless of the amount of experiences you
may have, sooner or later a decision has been
made to do or not to do something. It may be
part of a plan to improve your life. It may be
because those behaviors may not excite or
benefit you anymore. Whatever your reason,
you made a decision and moved forward, turning
choices into memories.

I would like you to keep in mind, as you move forward,
it is important not to judge those who may not
have turned their choices into memories. I have
witnessed and participated in such acts of
hypocritical reasoning but luckily, I had a moment
of clarity before too much time had passed.
I realized that everyone doesn't change,
bend or grow at the same time, or when I
may want them too. Things that I find
important, or not so much anymore, represent
a personal value system that cannot govern
the actions of anyone else.

So, when I hear statements like,
"He used to do a lot of dirt in undergrad;
She cheated on him with his friend;
I heard you got around back in the day;
She used to drink more than most guys;
He was the laziest one of all," I shake my
head. I shake my head because I recognize
that each statement is made in the past
tense, which means the actions mentioned
were also performed in the past.
(I hope you see where this is going)

A wise woman stated "Those
who always remember and bring up how you
were in the past, never really wanted the
best for you". As you look to leave things
in the past and move forward, turning choices
into memories, make sure you allow others
to do the same.

Clear Intentions

His lips parted...

Slowly, a final breath climbed
out of him, as his chest contracted outward,
his abdomen clinched as his shoulders raised,
matching the hairs on his arms and neck...

His intentions are clear.

Throughout time his gaze has separated reality
from fictitious accounts of fantasy found in the
dreams of young men. He has been intent on
performing this moment, with these exact
actions, ever since he decided to take his
final breath.

With his final breath, he began to position
himself for the greatest challenge of his known
existence; The outcome has played over and
over in his mind and now it was the moment of truth...
Licking his lips, his nose is greeted by a minty
scent of security.

The moment had arrived.

His arm extended, his right hand opened as
his right leg bent in a downward motion
so that his knee would gently press upon
the floor...

And as their eyes connected, her lips parted...

And slowly, a final breath climbed
out of her, as her chest contracted outward,
her abdomen clinched as her shoulders raised,
matching the hairs on her arms and neck...

Her intentions were clear.

As he replayed the events over and over in his
mind, he realized all of her movements that night
matched his...all but one...for she was moving
towards him, as he took the last breaths of his own
life and entered into theirs.

An Epiphany

This is an attempt to reveal that the
simplest questions may not always
have the simplest answers...at least
not for this guy, the voice below.

There's one question that he always has trouble
answering. It's the question that drives him,
yet it's also the question that he never feels
he has ever been able to accurately answer...

Who are you?

Disguising his inability to respond quickly, his
clever retort is also a common pet peeve,
answering the question with a question...
"What exactly would you like to know?"

Brilliant! Perfect! Now, instead of hesitating,
thus divulging his secret, he has placed the ball
in the inquirer's court. So, if his answer isn't
sufficient, it will not be his fault, because he
has responded to the "clarified question".

Who are you...well, I guess, what do you enjoy
doing?

Ha! Now, he can choose to address this many
different ways. He can give generic answers
with a couple of specific things to make the
inquirer feel that he attempted to answer.
Rarely, if ever has his bluff been called,
because he is a "wordsmith", a clever
smooth talker; one who studies his interviewer
and responds according to his/her facial
expressions, but not really answering the
question.

Who are you?

If they only knew...If they only knew that
I haven't been able to answer that question
for years. Sure, I can be defined
by my associations, my memberships, my
occupation, my hobbies...but truthfully
those things don't define me. As the
popular and powerful phrase states,
"I define me!" Yet, I have no idea...
I have no idea who I am...

I have placed myself in so many situations,
damaging my perceived character,
all for the cause of helping others.
My dad told me that I had a big heart and
that one day it would get me in trouble...
My dad is always right because I have seen
more troubled days than I would like to admit.

As I'm thinking right now, I have had an
epiphany. I think I know who I am now. So,
I shall restate the question and then answer it.

Who are you?

I am a troubled man...one who continues to

seek an elusive dream,
an elusive dream that, with each day,

grows more and more into my greatest joy.

I am a troubled man, who is seeking Peace of
Mind, so that one day I may truly rest.

Hmmm...I wonder if I should tell the next person who
inquires, "Who are you?" That would be a
great way to begin a conversation, don't you
think?

The Lesson, Chapter One

This is Chapter One of my novel, The Lesson...a story

of finding something you never knew existed.

"Raise your hand if you would like to read a color," announced
Mr. Anderson, surveying the room for any inappropriate behavior.
From right to left, his eyes scanned each group of desks, each isle,
the door and then, finally, he regained the courage to turn his back
and began to write.

"Laurie."

"Green, Mr. Anderson. I always want my favorite color."

"Just making sure it's you and not an alien using mind control
over you," laughed the sci-fi loving educator. Mr. Anderson often
made jokes, not for the students to enjoy, but because it put him in
a better mood.

"David, red right?"

7th Grade English classes began and ended the same way, every
day, for the past 10 years. Students knew what to expect from
Mr. Anderson, and Mr. Anderson made it clear what he expected.
Work. Hard work. If students were looking to have fun, they knew
they would not find it in Mr. Anderson's room. Sure, there were
laughs, maybe some jokes, silly comments and possibly a movie or
three during the year, but not fun. Just work. Group work maybe,
but hard work, nonetheless.

It was a known fact that anything said in his classroom

and anything that may have occurred in the presence

of the students and Mr. Anderson could appear on an

assessment. This could have worked in the students'

favor, if they were paying attention, had a great memory

or were great at taking notes! Three years ago, two boys

were discussing the latest video game while Mr. Anderson

was teaching and their exact conversation was used in a

quiz on quotation marks!

Til this day, his students can't figure out how he was able
to teach, listen to their conversation and remember exactly
what the boys said. Consequently, the boys earned lunch
detention for talking during instructional time. If you were

to ask them then or even today, those guys would say

it was well worth it. To have their names and their

conversation used on the quiz made them instant legends!

There was once a fire alarm that interrupted an assembly.
He used this situation as an essay question to measure his
students' ability to create a poem, that incorporated

figurative language, to describe the incident.

Mr. Anderson also used conversations he overheard in the

hallways. He used them in grammar lessons.

Most conversations were spoken using incorrect grammar,

so his students were assigned the task of correcting the

sentences. They were also assigned a week long project

to create a comic strip using those sentences.

"So, today we are going to begin our winter project. We are going
to create a game to help us learn our vocabulary words. This game
can be used in all of your classes so it's very important that we pay
attention and follow all directions."

Could this be true?

A game? A game in Mr. Anderson's class?

Could this be the first game ever played in Mr. Anderson's class?

The student's were...confused and excited, an amazing combination
of emotions to say the least. Mr. Anderson had always made several
comments about how games did not have a place in his classroom,
how playing is for gyms and playgrounds or extra-curricular activities,

not for learning, not in his classroom.

Mr. Anderson's beginning of the year speech began like this:

"This isn't recess or P.E. This is a learning environment. In this

particular learning environment, we must have order. We must

have order, structured procedures and high expectations of

behavior. If one of these things are lacking, effective learning

cannot occur. And if there is one thing that I will not stand for,

it is someone, much less more than one person, hindering

another's education."

Yet, here it was...on this day, Mr. Anderson seemed to contradict
his very being with every word he uttered. He continued his

project introduction speech, "you will be grouped and each group

will be assigned different aspects of the project to complete. If one

group is slack, the entire project will crumble and all of your work

will be for not." Mr. Anderson sometimes used words like slack,

not to try to be cool, but it was one of his many ways of getting his

point across.

Students were in shock. Carrie, who was the youngest of four

siblings, two older sisters and one slightly older brother,

all who had experienced the wonderfully talented Mr. Anderson,

secretly sent her older brother Ronald an instant message

spreading this unbelievable news. Ronald replied, "it must be

a joke or maybe he has finally gone off the deep end!" Another

student, Daniel, actually thought about raising his hand to ask Mr.

Anderson if he were feeling okay, but decided against it.

No one ever wanted to get on Mr. Anderson's bad side. Although

there were not any games (as of yet) in his classroom, Mr. Anderson

would give students a lot of control over how lessons were taught

and how work would be completed. No one wanted to give up

such power and freedom.

There were stories of how Mr. Anderson stripped one class of

their "rights as students." Mr. Anderson did not

speak to them for three weeks! Not even in the hallways or cafeteria!

In fact, before those students were allowed in his classroom, each

had to have a pencil (already sharpened) in one hand and a

binder in the other hand before being allowed to enter his room.

Then, once inside the classroom, all of their assignments would be

on a PowerPoint. The slides went through each section of the

lesson, just like it normally would, only no one read or explained

them. Mr. Anderson would not allow those students to

volunteer to read the color coded slides, which always included

very cool graphics. The colors sometimes represented the

difficulty of words, or the amount of words students had to read.

Mostly, this was a way that Mr. Anderson discovered, as a young

teacher, to get the most reluctant students to participate in his class.

Mr. Anderson believed that all students needed something to

identify with and as adolescents, colors were a big part of their

waredrobe, which in turn, were a big part of their lives. So,

his lessons would always make some kind of connection with

his students.

Each slide was on a timer, so if students didn't

write or read fast enough, the slide would automatically change

and those students would miss out on that information. Anyone

who spoke more than twice would receive a referral to the office.

And the principal supported him! Can you believe that?!

Mr. Anderson was really good at documenting things and

retelling events exactly how they occurred. This was his bread

and butter when it came to discipline. Going against Mr. Anderson

was like going against an army. A kid didn't have a chance!

Mr. Anderson was really stubborn and always kept his word, even

when it seemed improbable. So, for students to know this about

their teacher, how was it possible for him to switch

gears like this? What had happened to Mr. Anderson? Were there

aliens controlling his mind? Is that why he overused that lame joke

on a weekly basis?

No, those were silly questions. The reality was that there

was definitely something going on, but no one wanted to rock this

boat. Think about it. If Mr. Anderson is introducing one game,

who's to say he wouldn't allow more "fun" and "play" to happen

in his class? The possibilities were endless! And anyone

walking by his classroom on this day, at this time, could see these

endless possibilities dance across every 7th grader's mind

simultaneously, as Mr. Anderson introduced this new and exciting,

but very different project.

Looking in the Mirror

In reflection of this piece, I feel it is necessary to share that
at times I have these moments of clarity. This piece is an
expression of one of those moments, where I recognized
some things about myself that I may never reveal, yet the
process in which this discovery was made, is one that
I felt I needed to share.

I was looking at myself in the mirror and I began to wonder
when my face became so familiar. I began to wonder when
my facial hair began to grow, when my mustache and chin
hair connected, when my nose hairs began to grow out of my
nose...and I can't remember...

I was looking at myself in the mirror and I began to wonder
when was my face rounder, when was my face slender, and
if I even knew it was either round or slender
without seeing pictures or having someone tell me I gained
or lost weight...and I can't remember any of that...

I was looking at myself in the mirror and I began to wonder
when my face began to change from laugh lines to trace lines
for an occasional scowl, where did these lines come from
that I'm finding in my face, or when my ears disappeared because
those things were huge! Wait...my ears still stick out from my
head (just pulled my hair back, darn it!)
but I don't remember when that other stuff began...

I was looking at myself in the mirror and I began to wonder
if I enjoyed my growth spurt, if my voice ever changed with the
dramatic screeches in the midst of excitement, or when I grew
all this body hair (my future wife will enjoy this I'm sure, Ha-Ha)
but I can't remember...

I was looking at myself in the mirror and I realized that I do not
look at myself. I have not looked at myself with the intent of
finding new things or to remind myself of who I am, even though
I look when I shave or to wash my face or to see how my clothes
may or may not fit. I am surprised that I haven't stopped and
stared because today I found that I didn't recognize myself...
I look familiar...but I do not appear to be the person I have
envisioned myself to be...and that has placed
a great smile on my face!

I was looking at myself in the mirror and I realized that
I am changing! I was looking at myself in the mirror and
I realized that if I'm not who I envisioned myself to be, then
who is this man that everyone else sees?
I realized that this is an opportunity, a grand opportunity that
I have each day; because with each day the changes mentioned
above had to have happened...slowly, but purposefully, they have
occurred, developing over time because with progression there
must be change--so I have this opportunity to project the on-going
production of an evolving man to the world that I am attached. I
realized that I have the opportunity to make lasting impressions
with small, maybe even unnoticeable gestures because
over time, those gestures will create a great change
in the world around me.

I was looking at myself in the mirror and I realized that
I am changing...I was looking at myself and I began to accept
these changes...I began to embrace these changes...I began to want
more changes to occur...
Because with any progression, there must be change!