The perks of married men

Sometimes marriage ruins a friendship.
But sometimes it doesn't.
I have a couple of really good guy friends.
I'm lucky enough to still be friends with them,
even after they are married.
And I cherish their friendship so very much because
with marriage or serious relationships, I know that
they have no angle or gain behind treating me well other
than to be my friend.

I found an old letter from one of my guy friends
from freshman year.
"I ache and yearn to see the fire in your eyes again."
It amazes that a person could care this much.
To be honest I do, but I've never considered others
maybe caring for me as well in a strictly platonic manner.

He still is in my life, and has been married for six months.

Another of my friends asked if he could possibly name his child
after me.
He then told me that boys are blind, and if any guy is looking for
the perfect girl, he'd only have to find me.

It's moments like these that remind me why
I have been single for so long, and why I will
be for a long while,
because I have so much growing to do,
if I am ever to deserve a guy as wonderful
as these men.

Real men see the good in all women,
not just the ones they are trying to court.
And they will make the most wonderful friends.

I am blessed.

Proud to be an AGGIE

It's not every day that your college's Girls soccer team, volleyball team and football team are WAC champs right in a row. It's also not every day when your basketball team wins their game while the football team takes home a huge victory. But most importantly,

It's not every day when you get to greet your football team as they get off the airplane. As in we literally stood right by the plane. I touched almost every player's hand. 

We then got pictures with local legend Wild Bill and Big Blue.

I've always wanted to stand under the wing of a plane and I did. Man the jets on the planes are huge. 

What a crazy awesome way to express my school spirit.

Stephanie, Mark, Big Blue, Wild Bill, Holly and I with the plane in the background

 

Memoirs

They were flying everywhere,
pieces of crumpled up papers soaring
across the room in all directions.
Giggles escaped the mouths of students,
who couldn't mask the thrill of acting seven again.

The throwing stopped.
I picked up one of the papers.
I met with the girl who belonged to that
bit of parchment.
She had picked up my paper too.

Once we read the contents of the papers
to each other- three facts about ourselves,
we went up and introduced each other to the class.

We finally all had our turn.
 "Alright well that's it for today.
Now that we know each other better,
I think you'll all feel more comfortable
Sharing your own personal stories."

I walked out of class,
repressed memories surfaced.
How will I write about a part of me
that's personal, when I have a line
drawn: Everything people knows about
me (most things),
and then the deep stuff.
The stuff few people know
and appreciate.

It's time to re-evalute the stories in my life.
I'm sure there's an inspiring one or two.

You've got mail

Receiving mail is such a joy.
I suppose when my mailbox starts
filling with bills, I won't feel this way as much,
but post cards and letters are so wonderful.

There is just nothing like snail mail.
While writing a letter, you find a bit of
someone you might not otherwise find.

Just like pictures, letters are constant,
frozen in time. The words are forever there.
Even if the person who sent the letters
changes, the letters won't.

You forever have a piece of them. Something
concrete and special and intimate.