Browsing Tag:

love

  • Articles, Poem, Poems

    Love

    Love

    Hearts beating,
    Faster and faster each time.
    Sweaty hands,
    Bodies shaking,
    Can’t feel anything.
    But the safety of your hug,
    My heart skips a beat.
    As your eyes glisten
    Into mine
    Made for each other,
    but not forever.
    That’s love.

     

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  • Quizzes

    How Should You Spend Valentine’s Day

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  • Articles, Holiday, Relationships

    A Guide to Valentine’s Day

    Guide to Valentine's day

    A Guide to Valentine’s Day

    Celebrate Love that Matters

    As much as we hate to admit it, Valentine’s Day is a significant holiday in each person’s life – regardless of relationship status.

    Because let’s admit it, any day involving vast amounts of chocolate resonates with everyone. Whether you’re celebrating with your significant other over a candlelit dinner, having a movie night with your best friends, or indulging in some self-care, Valentine’s Day is an opportunity to spread love – and we should all partake.

    While it’s easy to treat the fourteenth of February as a negative day, don’t fall victim to that mindset. Sure, all the red and pink hearts might be cliché, but pretending to be heartless is ever more so.

    This day doesn’t have to be about the stereotypical, romantic comedy kind of love. It should be about the love you have for your mom, who accepts you at your best and your worst (seriously, she had to deal with you during your pre-teen years. That’s love). It should be about the love you have for your friends, who have the ability to make you laugh during the most mundane moments. Even the love you have for your dog!

    Valentine’s Day isn’t just about flowers, chocolates and teddy bears – no matter how much we love those things (or pretend not to). It’s about love, in every shape and form. Love shouldn’t be defined by a date on the calendar. We should acknowledge it every day, hour, and second.

    So this Valentine’s Day, and each day leading up to and following it, embrace the love. Give your partner the appreciation they deserve, but don’t reserve it for those specific 24 hours. Give your current friends a hug, and give your old friends a call. Convey your love for candy by purchasing extensive amounts the day after, because it’ll all be on sale. It’s called self-love. 

    Valentine’s Day celebrates love, so don’t restrict the celebration to only those in relationships, and don’t restrict the emotion to one particular day.

    The negative stigma around this holiday is played out. Spread love!

  • Poems

    A Portrait of Venus, the Loneliest Lover

    A Portrait of Venus

    A Portrait of Venus

    The Loneliest Lover

    Her lady Venus, the planet of love, destroyed herself for the sake of others. Her wells ran dry for the Romantics who turned water into blood quixotic messiahs; nobody ever told her that love is not breaking your ribs to give someone a heart.

    Love is not coal mine canaries singing carbon monoxide songs in your hollow ears as you sleep. Do not be Venus, and lend your broken ribs- do not love with an empty chest; clean out your smoke-blackened lungs, like filtering water, and pour out the bottled love your previous lovers have left you with.

    Do not love with your skin – the glass clean surface of your body. Do not love with the gentle bones you have been given. Do not love with a body so tender it breaks when bent.
    Her lady Venus, the planet of love, though she is two away from the sun she is moonless and casts her eyes to the stars who know her because they too are hot and tired. Her days are longer than most.

    Venus, lover of loneliness, does not love how she used to. She loves now with eyes, with fleeting glances that travel away faster than a comet crosses the view of a child. She loves in baby-pink satin; her sleeping-giant love rests in its robe, waiting, and waiting, and waiting for her next love.

    Her lady Venus, the planet of love, destroyed herself for the sake of others, murmuring carbon monoxide melodies into the ears of Mercury, snapping her ribs to create what she thinks might have been love.

    Venus, my love, lift up your head.

    Do not let Mercury, with his quick wit and sharp tongue, say that love is the aches you have known. Do not let Earth, with her ever-changing warmth, scorch what may have once lived in you.
    Do not let the dust of Mars scare you, for the red will wipe away like white wine.
    Do not let Jupiter’s storm shake you, for she knows not what she does.
    Do not let Saturn, however far away he might be, scare you with his extra guards.
    Do not let Uranus knock you over on your side like all those who came before did.

    Instead, reach out your grey hands and find beauty in the blue that looks like someone you used to know.

    Do not let Neptune frighten you with his stature, but use your heart to calm him.

    Do not let Pluto turn your heart to ice.

    Remember, my lady, that bones heal, the moon will rise again, and rivers will flow, even on the loneliest of eves.

  • Mental Health

    Grieving During the Holidays

    Grieving During the Holidays

    I have so much to be thankful for this year, that the past two years seem almost like a fleeting nightmare. Thanksgiving was my favorite holiday. The food, the family, the festivities. It was all an endless possibility for joy. I find myself missing the way I felt back then, but I understand that what I have gone through brings me here today.

     

    Grab a comfortable seat, a blanket, and possibly some tissues, because this ride is going to ring you for all you have. Or at least, it did for me.

     

    It all started with my first retail job. I gave up my right to have Thanksgiving with my family so that I could cater to the afternoon shopping rush. I only did it for money. I needed to pay for school at the time.

     

    A couple of years of missed Thanksgivings started to weigh heavily on my relationship with my non-immediate family. This was the only time of year, aside from one day at Christmas time, that I got to see any of them.

     

    Flash forward to 2016. My sister is going to have a baby! She flaunts her bump everywhere she goes, and I’m buying little pink and purple things everywhere I go. Forgive me for loving those colors. Baby Squid would have worn them regardless of being a girl. Oh, yeah, she got her nickname because her ultrasound looked like an adorable baby squid.

     

    Over the Summer my grandmother gets sick. She already had cancer, but it got much worse. By the end of July she was saying her last goodbyes with an occasional word to her future great-grandchild. She passed away quickly.

     

    I quit my job, stopped going to class, and felt like life was fleeting. We had always been so close. It felt like a limb had been removed from my body.

     

    After seeking some help, I turned to the positive things in life. My sister was five months pregnant by the end of August. She would be the first grandchild and niece to a family of five children.

     

    As the months went on, my sister got sick. She battled viscous pancreatitis, causing her to be hospitalized for the remainder of the pregnancy. I stopped going to class again so that I could stay at the hospital with her. The whole family took turns.

     

    The doctors kept feeding us good news about the baby, saying she was healthy and the only one to worry about was Jamie, my sister.

     

    Come November, I wondered how Thanksgiving would feel. My grandmother was gone, and Baby Squid was becoming a high risk pregnancy.

     

    Two days before the holiday, Jamie was released. We planned a large feast with our immediate family and her husband’s. That night, she got sick again.

    We rushed her back to the emergency room and waited for several hours to hear anything back from the doctors. Finally, we were told that she would need to stay at the hospital until the baby was born. Three more weeks of hospital time. I was so selfish. I had finals the next week.

     

    One week later, as I was submitting my final assignment for a creative writing class I was in, I got a horrifying phone call. This is where you’ll need those tissues. I’m certainly desperate for some right now.

     

    My sister was dying and so was her baby. Her heartrate had dropped drastically, and Squid’s was nowhere to be found. They rushed her into an emergency c-section without knowing if it would kill them both.

     

    I just wanted a nice Thanksgiving. A nice Christmas. To get finals week over. Yet there I was, sitting in a hospital waiting room, watching my brother-in-law’s parents crying and hugging their son. He kept mumbling something about losing his wife and first child on the same night.

     

    My mom came out from behind a large metal door with red eyes and shaking her head. My niece didn’t make it.

     

    Jamie was still battling the blood loss somewhere in that godforsaken hospital. Would we lose her, too?

     

    Half an hour later a nurse came out to let us know that Jamie was doing fine, but in reality she would be broken for the rest of her life. We walked into her hospital room to see her holding my stillborn niece and babbling incoherently. She was on drugs and could barely comprehend what had happened.

     

    The doctors said it was a freak accident and that nothing could have prevented it. But it still feels like something could have been done.

     

    I am not sharing this story to make you feel sorry for me or for my family. I just want you to know that things can get better. Having grief, especially during the holidays, can be hard. It requires the help of all your loved ones and sometimes professional council.

     

    My sister got pregnant again the next year. With a baby boy. We called him T-rex, because his ultrasound kind of looked like one. I still miss Squid and my grandmother, but it is okay for me to be happy again. And it’s okay to still be sad sometimes.

     

    I have had time to heal. I am back in school full-time. I work retail again, with Thanksgiving off. And I have a beautiful nephew that I love so much.

     

    Try to remember the good things in your life as this holiday of “thanks” nears. I am thankful that my sister is alive. I am thankful for my nephew. I am thankful for all my family. I am thankful for my college education. I am thankful for this in internship so that I can share stories like this one with young girls who may experience similar grief.

     

    Here are some links to grief webpages if things get a little too tough:

    https://www.dougy.org/grief-resources/how-to-help-a-grieving-teen/

    https://www.mariecurie.org.uk/help/support/bereaved-family-friends/coping-grief-teenager/teen-grief-books

    https://www.verywellhealth.com/working-through-grief-10-helpful-tips-1132522

  • Photography

    Being Comfortable in Your Own Skin

    Being Comfortable in Your Own Skin

    by Sarah Vice

    It has become so easy to tell people to stand up for themselves and to take the criticism surrounding their circumstances, but when it comes to your livelihood as a teenager, “coming out” may not be possible. If you live in a heavily religious home, or just a morally “traditional” homestead, then you have limited options to what sexual opportunities there are. I remember a friend of mine telling me that he was so scared to be homosexual that he quit school to be homeschooled to be away from other boys. A girl I knew in high school started hurting herself because she felt unable to love who she wanted to love, due to the fear of being kicked out of her home.

    In situations like these, we come back to the realization that sexual preference is not something everyone has access to. If you are stressed because of your home life, then reach out for help. Please do not consider harming yourself or others, when professionals are willing to spend time talking with you and helping you figure out a better way to express yourself.

    Here are some tips from me on what to do when you are feeling like a part of you is missing:

    1. Keep a journal. I know it sounds silly and may be difficult for some, but write down everything. If you find someone, you like, but do not have the courage or ability to reach out to them, write about it. Write a heavily detailed letter to your guardians about how what they’re doing is hurting you (you do not have to give this to them). This works just as well with art, or wood carving, or any other form of creativeness. Take your stress out on something that makes you happy.
    2. Keep close friends that understand who you truly are. This way you feel less like your hiding it from the world but are still able to keep it from your parents or guardians.
    3. Read books. There are a lot of authors who have probably experienced similar situations to yours. All you have to do is find them. (This works for television as well).
    4. Get an animal or thing that you can use as something to talk to. Animals relieve stress and are always there to listen. If owning a pet is something you don’t have access to, then have a stuffed animal or important relic to talk to.

    Before hiding who you are, always be sure to have conversations with your parents or guardians if you do not already know where they stand on the subject. Sometimes people can surprise you.

    If you ever feel alone in your struggle or would just like some company, you can check out the Magic City Acceptance Center at the following link:

    http://www.magiccityacceptancecenter.org/

  • Poem, Writing

    A Writer’s Love Story

    I want to build you a kingdom out of my sentences,
    An empire out of my words.
    I want you to come home to a house fashioned by metaphors and hyperboles.
    I want you to hear only the onomatopoeias that come out of my letters.
    I want you to peel apart the walls and look at all the paintings to read through my lines.
    I want you to crack open the floor boards, look under the tables,
    And find what was meant especially for you.

     

    A Writer’s Love Story

    This poem examines the love that most writers experience. The love that exudes from our pens to the tattered pages of our journals. It presents the combination of the love to write, as well as the love to love. This poem is just a longer way to say I love you.