Chapter ? – Our New Home, Our Old Home

I still remember the first time I walked into our current building. It was a converted call center with two floor, and each large room seemed to be the size of a football field. It was an open floor plan, as all call centers are, with diagonal rows of desk streaming across each floor. Myself and a few coworkers had stopped by on our lunch break to get a preview of our new facility. It was freshly painted with color coded columns to identify the location of each team. Our team, the portal team, was identified by the color beige. I guess we didn’t show up the day they were picking colors. Beige always seemed to me as a non color. I always had the desire to throw a football or frisbee across the room, but regrettable never did. Walking in I would never think I would be here for six years, and I had know idea that my life would change so much over these few years. I spent most of my time on the second floor, although I did spend time working in a small support room on the first floor during a short temporary work assignment. That was the same room Jadie now worked. It is kind of funny she ended up sitting in the same desk I sat at during that year. Looking back over those years I can’t regret much I had an opportunity to learn many new skills, work with a diverse set of teams, learn the insane logic of corporate America, but out of all these things not many things would come close to have the impact of the little brunette working on the first floor. Ironically during the last years in this building I thought I was fall off course with no direction in site, but little did I know I was only now headed back to my true self and was about to rediscovery my passion and purpose in life. I can’t say it was all Jadie. Of course she will be forever be the shining beacon reminding me the way home when days get dark, but I pull myself up out of this downward spiral. I was a mess during the last of the years in the building, if you ask her she would say I am still a mess, but the truth is I’m not. I still love her with an insane passion that is defies reason, but she will never understand that’s just the nature of true love. Some call it infatuation, some might call it delusion or madness, but I know it’s now. Infatuation fades, madness and delusion leaves you lost. My love has never faded for her, and loving her has always brought me back home. I’m not saying there weren’t torturous times, but I could never turn my back on the fact that I was meant to love her. I’m still not sure where this will all end. I still don’t know how our story ends, but I am alive and loving her fuels my passions. Maybe one we will each other again.

Better than me

Who could love you better than me? Is it possible there is someone out there that can look deeper into those eyes and love you beyond the capacity of my heart? This a tough question for me to truthfully answer. The romantic in me would like to say no without a second thought. Before I answer I need to define my love. I know other men in your life feel it is purely in infatuation. I’m sure other women would agree as well, but I can honestly tell you this is not the case. I understand why one would easily define this as infatuation. It makes sense. How could I say I selflessly and completely love you given the amount of time I have known you and considering I have never even kissed you once? If I was on the outside looking in I would agree. I’m not gonna lie, to the logical sane mind this doesn’t make sense. I have known you less than a thousand days. However, I am on the inside of this bubble looking out, and without any doubt I know I love you. This is something you know without thinking. When I say the words I love you I feel my heart agree without any hint of hesitation. You have literally change the way my heart beats. You have changed the way I see the world. With you in my life the world suddenly makes sense. Every time we talk, every time I see you I find more reasons to love you and the world. I’m not a child, nor do I think like one. I have lived and loved. I have experienced tragic loss. Through all my experiences I have learned that when something truly special comes along your heart will tell you, and you my dear are rare. You are that unicorn that comes along once in a life time if you are lucky. Yes you are flawed, as we all are, but any sadness or pain you hold onto only adds to your beauty in my eyes. It’s not that I love you like a poor little bird with a broken wing that you find on your doorstep. I have always loved paradoxes, and that soul of yours defies the logic of this universe. You defy what my cynical mind has grown to believe. You should not exist, but you do. I lived my life thinking someone like you was only a myth, just like the unicorn, and here you are right in front of me. I also intuitively feel and understand you. I’m not saying I can read your mind, because sometimes you surprise me, but most of the time I feel your thoughts before you mind can form the words. I have said it before and I’ll say it again I feel your heart beat inside of mine. You are the heart of my heart, the center of my center, the root of all things true and I knew you before we ever met. Sounds ridiculous I know, but on everything I hold sacred in my life I swear this to be true. You also bring comfort to my eyes, and I am not just saying you are easy to look at, although you know I think there are not many women as beautiful as you. What I mean is that when I look at you I forget my own pain. When my eyes look into yours I know all things are possible, and I know what you are thinking you can’t understand how you could possible inspire someone this way. I just know if something as amazing as you can exist in this world then all things are possible. When I feel all the love you have in your heart I swear you out shine the sun. Being a part of you makes me fearless. You don’t see it but you are perfect in so many ways, and I use this word not because you are flawless. I say perfect because there is nothing that you could change that would make me love you more deeply. I also love that you are aware who you are and embrace it. Although this can make you stubborn at times and to be honest frustrate the hell out of me, I still love that you find strength in this awareness. This also challenges me and I secretly love strong women who challenge me. Ok I could go on endless. I have thousands of other reasons why I love you, and I never get tired of finding different ways to love you. So lets end this here and get back to your question. Is it possible there is someone better suited to love you? Sure it’s possible. It’s possible for lighting to strike twice in the same place.. Maybe it’s also possible this world is just over flowing with unicorns. I’m not saying there isn’t someone out there who could make you happy. I’m sure there are a lot of men out there that could give you a life that you deserve. I just you are one of a kind, our connection is one of a kind, and I don’t expect to ever find that again. If I am delusional and if I am not as special to you as I think I am then please let me know. Everyday that passes I am convinced more and more that you are my soulmate. Maybe thats why I love you so easily. I’ve felt compelled to love you since the day we met. This love goes beyond the limits of friendship. This love exceeds that of a romantic love. It defies definition and reason. You know this to be true. I would do anything for you. Your happiness is my happiness. I need to be a part of you, and share everything with you. I will always love you. I feel like I need to find a stronger word because even the word love is starting to feel limiting when I think about my feeling for you. Well there you go. Here are your thousand words. If you promise to read it I can promise you a thousand more each day.


Happy Birthday

Great days like today deserve to be celebrated. I know your humble eyes will never willingly acknowledge what the world sees in you, but enjoy this day and let the world love you. Let some of that light shine inward and enjoy the fact that you have much love in your life, a loving family, a beautiful mind and a warm soul. You are special beyond special and although timid at times you are one of the bravest women I know. I have said it a few times before you are an amazing mix of conflicting qualities. A strange rare mix of strengths and vulnerabilities. A beautiful paradox. It may take time for some eyes to adjust and make sense of it all, but when it all comes together no sane mind will deny that you are symphony of beauty.

Happy Birthday Jadie.



Light of Inspiration


Thank you for showing me the light of inspiration comes from within, and giving me reason to bring my dreams into reality. Day after day I continue to work, and there is no turning back for me. However, you have to know that each word meant more when I was able to share it with you. Even the fire you sparked burns cold because I can’t feel comfortable in it’s light. Each word is now a painful awkward struggle because I hate my eyes. I see things, I see you, I see the world, but I’m not sure of the truth of it all. Something is broken and I am not sure how to fix it. I doubt what I see and I don’t trust what I feel when I try to believe what you want me to believe. In someways I know I was both wrong and right to feel what I feel. Am I crazy to miss you? Right now I am on center in the perfect place, free of the fears and insecurities that have plagued some many years, but something feels so wrong. I don’t doubt the path to my success. At the same time I know your life is good right now, maybe it’s better without me, and I know it’s selfish of me to miss you but I do. It’s true you enabled me. You enabled me to pull myself out of a dark downward spiral, you enabled me to realize my potential, and you enabled me to turn my back on fear. For this I will always love you. You’ve helped me open my eyes. You’ve given me my world back. This is why it’s hard for me love you within moderation. You are a unique wonderful anomaly, even in times of frustration or anger it’s a truth I never dispute. I hope one day I can share this world with you. Until then I wish you a wonderful birthday week and all the love in the world.



Balsa Wood Glider

When I was ten I checked out a book on balsa wood gliders from the library. I have always loved libraries and book stores. Not sure where it started but my father had his library of books. Most of his books were utilitarian in nature, being devoted to construction, architecture and appliance repair. Looking back this one of the main sources for my love of books. As a child I was a amazed at how my father could learn to do anything from a book. There is some powerful and magical in that fact. My mother also took an active role in cultivating this deep, almost religious respect for nature I have in me. My elementary school sponsored book fairs every few months. The book fairs were special days for me. It was a anticipated the way other children looked forward to Disneyland or trips to the arcade.

Getting back to the subject at hand this book detailed several plans to build gliders. The suggested material was balsa wood. Being a small child my knowledge of woods was limited to that you would encounter at the local lumber yard. My father being a contractor I had much experience with red book, douglas fir and pine, but balsa wood as my father told me was a very special wood used in specialized craft project. The primary of these special qualities is its unusual lack of density or weight made it perfect for gliders. I remember my father using the yellow pages to find a hobby store in Buena Park. It was distance away from my childhood home but it was the closest business that had what we needed. It was a rare weekend where my father didn’t work, but he took Saturday afternoon of to drive me to this hobby store. I spent the week reading almost obsessing each glider this book detailed. I had selected the one I wanted and the previous evening my father and I reviewed the plans to determine what we needed.

I still remember walking in. It was the first hobby shop I entered. The ceiling was littered with remote controlled gliders and model planes. There were numerous aisles of special glues and paints only hobbyists would need. My father briefly talked to the guy at the counter, while I got lost in the fantasy land of remote controlled planes and cars. These were expensive toys I could only dream of having, but a boy could dream. My father called me to the back corner of the store where a small area of shelves and bins were devoted to balsa wood of various cuts thicknesses, cuts and shapes. Picking up my first piece felt surreal, as if I was touching some alien material. It looked like wood, smelled like wood, but it had the weight and density of styrofoam. I enjoyed these moments with my father. To me he was the source of all knowledge, there wasn’t ever a time I could remember in childhood where he didn’t have an answer or thoughtful response to my childlike inquiries. After selecting our inventory of balsa wood we went to the counter to purchase our supplies. On our short walk through the models cars, warships and planes he mentioned that we needed a special glue. He said this special glue was stronger and this was needed for our glider. I didn’t question it, but looked forward to playing with this special glue. Looking back I am not sure why my father knew of such things. His father was an alcoholic and from the stories I heard was never much of a father. Most stories my father shared led in disappointment or of him making the best with what he had. The closest thing he had to a fond childhood memory was a story about a schwinn bike his father promised to buy him. My father told me a story of anticipation of how his father gave him reasons to actually believe he was going to get a new bike. My father walked by this bike shop all week on his way home from school, which must have been torture to a young boy. Finally, the Sunday came when they were going to purchase the bike and the bike shop was closed. They never went back. His father never mentioned it again and that was the end of my fathers fantasy to own his own bike. Despite the abusive and selfish figure his father was I never heard my father say a bad word about his father. All he would say was he did his parents did the best with what they had. I thought it was curious that the shopkeeper kept this special glue locked up behind the counter so I asked my father about this on the way to the car. He said kids put it on a rag and smell the rag to get high. Like I said my father knew everything. I kind of find comfort in the fact that most people in my life see me as a source of knowledge.

We finally made it back to our house. Buena Park was about a 45 minute drive but to an adolescent boy with glider to build the drive seemed forever. It was late afternoon and my father reluctantly agreed to start building the glider. Looking back its moments like these that make me realize what a great father I had. It was a late Sunday afternoon and it was his first day off in weeks. I’m sure he wanted to relax but he said yes and we worked on the glider till late that night. He let me do most of the cuts on the wings, which was probably why it never flew quite straight, but we will get to that later. After hours of miter cuts and glueing there it was sitting on my kitchen table. I wasn’t allowed to touch it too much because my father said it needed to dry. Reluctantly I let it sit on my kitchen table sitting on a bed of newspapers so it there overnight. He said we would take to the park tomorrow after he got home from work.

88 Ways to Love

There are endless ways to love you. Today let me count a few.
I love you so that sun has reason to rise. I love you for the colors that paint the sky at dusk. I love you for what you want me to see. I love you for what you don’t want me to see. I love you for your words and I love you for the sweetness of your silence. I love you for the times my heart beats fast and I love you when it slows. I love you for teaching me love doesn’t need hope or a destination to thrive. I love you because L oving you has taught me there is weakness in strength and sometimes there is weakness in strength. I have seen love needs not reason to exist. True love is pure and exists in blindness and is not bound by the limits of time. (To be continued)


She warned me when we met. I saw the missing pieces, but that never stopped me.
The broken pieces, the cracks in the heart never slowed my desires.
Broken and lost, flying blind without a plan. Never listening to reason, never loving within reason.
Who knew she’d teach to see. Who knew I was the broken one.

Fearing Less to Love More – 2/17/2015

I read something the other day about fearing less to love more. This morning I woke up thinking of those words. Being stuck at home these past few days have been a struggle, both mentally and physically. It was the isolation really. The lacked of escape can be torture at first, especially if you are used to a million distractions to ease your mind. The thoughts come and there is no where to run. Its funny what happens when you are forced to deal with your thoughts. The mind wanders at first, like a wild stallion afraid of the saddle, it bucks and writhes in useless attempts to stay wild. After a while like all things wild it’s relentlessness retreats and all outward energies are focused inward. So inward I dove giving into the changing tides of thoughts. Time and time again I came to one thought. It’s an everlasting truth I lament, evolution and change. We fight to be in one place at one time, but this fight is a constant evolution and the same day never repeats twice. The best we can do is be true to this consistent change and listen to the direction of the tide. Today I am grateful for this truth and for all things that let me see this light. This post will definitely be continued.

Slaves to Fear

We are all slaves in the light of day.
Slaves to our memories and fears.

Shining through the night, shining for the fight.
Suns rise and set with out fear and so shall we.

Shadows hide hidden truths of fears and shadows. Step forward and bring the fight into the light.

Chapter 33 – A Dangerous Curve

Somedays you just know aren’t going to end right, but this day wasn’t one of those days. It started no different than a thousands of other days. Breakfast, work, and then a happy hour. She set up the happy for the birthday of a co-worker. Being at one of our favorite local watering holes and this being an opportunity to see her I knew wild horses couldn’t keep me away. I was laser focused on my tasks for the day to be sure nothing delayed me from today’s birthday celebration. It’s amazing what a man can accomplish with the right motivation (that motivation almost always being a women). My team was in the middle of a project and as always there were a long list of unforeseen tasks that came up, but nothing was going to keep me from her today. I handled each task the way a medieval knight slayed dragons. Before I knew it it was 5 pm. I quickly and silently undocked my laptop and packed up for the day so not to alert my team of my on time departure. It never failed anytime I wanted to leave early someone would have an urgent request or my team’s lead would need to have a conversation with me, but not today. I stepped away from my desk with the skillful stealth of a ninja. I even took the back stair case to avoid any possible obstacle. Finally I was at my car, I quickly threw my bag in the car and drove to the bar. I saw her car as I drove in the parking lot and quickly parked in an adjacent park spot. Seconds after walking in an unconscious reflex led my eyes to her. Walking up I made sure she was the last person I greeted to be sure I wasn’t obvious in my reason for being there. (in progress will be back later tonight to finish)

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