“If you don’t want to be with me, just say and I will go.”

Tomorrow, I shall listen to more peppy stuff and celebrate life and jump up and down in place a while.

Truth be told, something I dislike about finals…something I dislike about life is that I somehow forget about Life…we (I think/hope I’m not the only one) forget real life. We forget the real. Napoleon once said, “We live and die in the midst of marvels.” How is it that we forget so easily? I promised myself that I’d run and write everyday. And when I was doing that, I was finally understanding things. I was finally learning what every breath means. I was understanding what my body was whispering to me, and I could hear the songs of the leaves. I would remember my dreams and I could remember the faces.

I recently read an article in Salon titled “How can I not know what I am feeling?” In it, they speak of the language of feeling. “Neglected, their feeling language atrophies. Eventually, they can neither decode, analyze and understand the feeling messages of others nor express with accuracy and nuance their own feelings.”

Recently, I’ve been reminded that we are Those That Measure. It is through speech and identification that we establish that which makes us Us. But on so many levels, we are mute. At least I feel like I am. That I am deaf, blind, and mute. Sometimes I want to scream as loud as I can because at least then someone will notice and turn and I will have expressed myself. I am 26 years old, I study the law so that one day others will turn to me for guidance and safety, but I have the emotional vocabulary of a 4 year-old. No wonder I don’t function in relationships. How can someone understand what I need or want if I cannot express it adequately? If I don’t understand it myself? How can someone trust that I can stay by their side and be honest with them if I cannot truly understand the awesome implications of saying “I love you” or “Believe in me”?

How can I kneel in the temple of another, sing their praises, and be penitent if I lack empathy and understanding? It may often be mistaken for pride or being indignant, but — while it excuses nothing — perhaps it is just an inability to connect…an inability to articulate concepts like sorrow, vulnerability, or real love.

How do we learn to speak? How do we chart out a map of what we feel, what we should feel, and what any of it means?

I say I run to find my voice. I think that I’ve never really understood what that means…rather, it sounded cool to say, but it really is about establishing a map, isn’t it? It begins with identification, defining, establishing parameters, and moving forward.

We write, we take photographs, we run…all because we want a voice. We want to be able to say what we mean. We want to be able to understand what we mean. And we do this so that, in the midst of marvels, we can meet those that seek the same things and we can truly speak with one another. We can truly say “I love you” and mean it, we can truly say “Believe in me” because it will be true.

I once wrote about love. About what it should be. I want to feel this. I want it to last. I want it to be real. I want it to matter and swallow me whole and make more than the sum of my parts.

So, I need to run. I need to write. I need to be as honest as I can possibly be…with myself and with those around me. Because I need to chart out this map. I need to learn to speak the language of feeling.

I’m tired of the façade and my excuses. Let’s all get past this and get to the real. Because anything less is a disservice to real Life.