Dear heart of mine,

If you could, just this once, be rational. Please?

Love always,

The rest of me.

obliterated.

I will always be amazed at the mind's incredible capacity to lie to itself. I mean, really. It's absolutely amazing. If it doesn't want to do or face something difficult, it can merely sidestep the issue by dreaming up a world in which its problems don't exist. Just concoct a pretty new list of truths, of laws to operate under, and voila! You have a lovely new problem-free world. But here's the paradox: in order for that world to blossom, the mind has to convince itself that this it is real beyond a shadow of a doubt. As impossible as it seems, I think it happens far more often than any of us would like to admit. Absurd.

Of course, wandering around operating under such pretenses causes problems. It's like denying the existence of gravity. No matter how strongly you believe you can fly, you're going to sink right back down to earth every time you step off that roof.

These pretty fantasy worlds can last for a while, but eventually we're going to run into something that our laws can't reconcile. Our minds may be able to overlook a couple of these contradictions, skilled little fabricators that they are, but there's always going to be that one undeniable truth that crashes through our consciousness and flattens our make-believe world. It's like "Somewhere in Time." That tiny copper coin tore down his entire universe.

For me, it was a letter. An atom bomb waiting in my mailbox.

Currently I find myself sitting in the aftermath of the explosion. Dazedly wrenching myself from the rubble, trying hard to get my bearings. So far so good, I think... I just hope I handle it better than Christopher Reeve.

I'd much rather assimilate to reality than... ya know... die. Wish me luck...

lasting fingerprints.

As I've mentioned before, I'm blessed with an incredible circle of friends. They're not the bum-around-when-it's-convenient-just-to-edge-away-the-boredom kind of friends. Those are a dime a dozen. Mine are the catch-you-when-you're-falling, revel-in-your-triumphs, love-you-even-when-it's hard kind of friends. We numb each other's heartaches with Dairy Queen blizzards. We make each other big pots of coffee and eggs when life has scrambled our brains. We celebrate even each other's smallest victories; we feed each other's dreams. Many days they're the only screws that keep my head from spontaneously catapulting itself off my shoulders in protest of this madness called college that I thrust upon it daily. They are my rock, and I love them.

Every once in a great long while, however, someone will come along whose influence reaches far beyond satisfying those everyday emotional hungers. Naturally the more exasperating, infuriating, and impertinent the person, the more enthralling, refreshing, and precious the impact. They're the ones that aren't afraid to tell us when we're boring or stupid or selfish or rude or any other number of things. They care far more about our fulfillment than they do our comfort, and they wrench us from our cozy bubbles and boxes and dare us to live a better life. We usually stick a toe out just to appease, then scramble back to our snug little ways. But they lovingly, painstakingly urge us farther each time, inch by inch. Usually we're relieved when they finally give in, leaving us to snuggle in our secure little pocket. We nestle down deep with a thankful sigh, happy the struggle's over.

But unbeknownst to us (and them), that loved one's dropped a tiny seed of discontent deep in the belly of our beings. Before we know what's happened we find ourselves gladly leaping outside our bubble, seizing opportunities with a boldness not our own. They've infected our very being, leaving us with a crucial, beautiful, life-changing piece of themselves. Long after they're gone, we can see their fingerprints on every day we live.

I like the idea of adding pictures to my posts, so I Googled "fingerprints on my life" just to see what popped up. There were a lot of photos of Robert Pattinson. That made me a little sick. Then there were a lot of pictures of people with their loved ones. That made me smile.

A couple's engagement photo.

A group of friends sporting big grins and goofy Halloween costumes.

A brother and sister playing together in a sandbox.

A beaming bride surrounded by her best friends.

A man in his cap and gown, diploma in hand, with his proud children hanging off his shoulders.

A precious baby girl with a big smile and a pink bow in her hair. (Obviously my fav)

As I perused the happy faces, I found myself wondering if any strangers had softened this way after stumbling across a picture of my loved ones and me. Could they see a glimmer of selfless love in our eyes? Did our iron-clad friendship bring them hope, too?

As I scrolled a bit lower, this little guy caught my eye:

And I smiled again. :)