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Competition!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Competition about the best written story in English

Write and tell us about an occasion on which you have been extremely lucky or unlucky. The most interesting well written story will be awarded with the forumi horizont price of the best composition in ENGLISH.

The criteria of evaluation will be the richness of language, vocabulary use, text structure and attraction of readers attention from beginning till the end.

Looking forward to reading your stories

Dita ime me me fat ishte qe une dija anglisht dhe mund te komunikoja ne cdo vend te botes qe te isha. Nuk ka me te pafat se memeci.

could i participate with "The adventures of Pollino"?:p

For more information to check this link: http://www.forumihorizont.com/showt...=&threadid=5090

You have to write down the story Pictures aren't enough

Analistja, we know that Lorie is going to win. She puts so much effort in writing a story.

Hirushja, from what I've read, yes you're right Lorie is very talented, but I don't think that we should rule out everybody else. Let them try at least. Don't you think so?

Iliriusa, i'm not gonna refuse. If the members of this forum do have time to write their stories in this forum then who am i to stop them?

Re: Competition!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Citim:

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Po citoj ato që tha analistja
[b]Competition about the best written story in English

Write and tell us about an occasion on which you have been extremely lucky or unlucky.

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good idea! But it has to be a story with lots of emotions and feelings

hey i'm gonna write a personal letter...

Hi honey ! How are you ?
I just don’t know how to begin .I’ve got a lot of things to say but …..it seems that all the words disappeared . You know it’s just like when we were together , you stood in front of me and I never used to say a word of any kind , except smiling .Anyway it was a long time ago and the image of your face is fading away . It’s no word at all to express myself now in a piece of paper . I found out that love was something special and the person you love was special indeed .I never understood the way you were . You feared all this but I quite think that you were not strong enough to face such a warm feeling , trying to protect yourself of non getting involved . I was not of course looking for you , when you appeared in my life and made it a mess . I spent long nights without sleep thinking on the words you said carelessly . The efforts , the sufferings , but of what importance are these now ?
Love is not like that .People say that you get burned only once and it exists the only one .
You tremble when you hear his voice and you feel so secure looking at his eyes among all the others . Your imagination takes power & life is really beautiful . I fear to remember when we were together , was it like that or no ? Your fingers lightly brush over my body , feeling my every curve , feeling my body quiver under your touch , your mouth meets with mine in a kiss . Our tongs finding one another , probing , feeling & exploring. Your voice whispers in my ear making my body tingle all over . I feel myself surrendering , you gaze deeply into my eyes & I gaze right back at you , smiling , knowing what I want so badly. Even now I tremble when I hear your name casually . A hundred times I erased your name from the phone & I put it back . The messages I’ve wrote down , I’ve been such a fool . You know what ? I’d better stop all this . I’ve tried so many times to tell myself that you’re “ gone “ , but I just can’t help it . Nevertheless you’ll. never get this , you’ll. never read these words. I even didn’t mention the things I wanted to say , because I know you wouldn’t understand .
I know the way you are : nice , kind , handsome , lovely & for me the wrong guy .
Anyway it will still be me , my thoughts and some words on a piece of paper throwing me into confusion if I never loved you….but you’ll. never know !
One more thing , sorry for the “ honey “ I called you at the begin . It quite came natural , the thought of you , make it came so . I quite lost the concept of time . it passes really fast , I quite forget that by now we’re at the point of calling each –other “ He “ or “ She “.



…………………………..HOPE YOU ‘LL. LIKE IT …………………

Mistrecja, thank you!
Thank you for being the first to write something for this competition. I wish you luck and hope a lot of other members will join you soon!

hey, congratulations to all!

Ilirusa, I wonder if u are the next

Citim:

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Po citoj ato që tha isra
hey, congratulations to all!

Ilirusa, I wonder if u are the next

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Citim:

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Po citoj ato që tha iliriusa


..but only if you will too. Ok? Do we have a deal?

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Hahahaha Isra I didn't think that you were the kind of girl who would get scared so easily!
Come on! It's just a little story, very short story, no big deal ok? What do you say?

I am, unfortunately
anyway, I' ll think about it!

I almost choked

,i could hardly breathe when i saw you,your features.Then i trembled like a brownish autumn leaf and fell on the ground. Well,it was not me,it was my heart welling and rolling like a roll coaster. And i trembled more ,when i dined with you.
-It's cold,do you feel it?- what excuse...
I blamed myself back then- i hated flirting-i thougth it was plain wrong.I had sworn to myself not to. With the stiffness comes the coldness-or is it the other way round ?
It's not you ,it's the mystery of you,that sparkle in the eyes, the wierd words you said for the first time to me: do you see yourself married in a year,i don't...-as if i was interested in that particular privacy-threatening adventure/commitment.
Me neither -i said laughing.Now ,that wierdness sparkled my eyes. I had a challenge in front of me: you.I had to psyche you out. I love complications.
Not only the hormones were screaming but the millions of questions as well: an intellectual challenge.
Then, it was a relationship challenge since my best friend was so plain open about her crush for you.
We laughed hard, after some months when she got over him,when i told her that i had prayed so hard not to show any kind of feeling toward him during the Virginia christian retreat since she was so into him anyway. It was then that i told her i had liked him the first moment i had seen him-was it likeness..?
She thought i was so strong ,just because of the fact that i helped her confide her deepest worries about him when i had worries myself.
When the time of my shaking jaws had finished ,i had another challenge: that to talk freely and just casually with him.
My sister made fun of me when i was waiting for him to come to me ,not the other way round.She thought it was cute for me to be shy.I wanted to scream. He was talking to another girl - another one that had almost the same infatuation i did.She confessed it to us (my best friend and I) that sunday afternoon when we were going to eat at Panera's. Great! Another rival.-I thought discouraged...but not for long...
I soon learned i was one out of many that were experiencing the same thing i was-he wasn't even handsome..well a little,but not as handsome to have so many admirers.
Every girl that came in the picture wanted to get to know him in a 'deeper level'- that was The Expression. And i kept being patient for the girls to know him 'deeper' . He, on the other hand didn't even suspect he had a line of women running after him. That was the thing that made me laugh most and attracted me most. He was just unique, and unexplainable.
What a trip this guy!
That hot day,after whatching a jazz concert i lashed out all my thoughts to her, i couldn't keep things in for long.Besides i had learned whatever you don't talk about, is already out of control and i,more than anything, wanted to have control over some things ,or feelings related to a guy that had possesed a good part of my thoughts without even knowing him on a 'deeper level'. That was freaky!
And what i discovered in that confession was that i was attracted more to the challenge of mystery ,rather than the guy himself. I just wanted to know what ran through his mind ,more than anything,even the little details;what shampoo does he use for his hair?- is his room full of books since he loves reading?- how many fingers does he break when he plays football?- what are his patterns of behavior?-why so much guilt in his life?- why does he love sarcasm?-why doesn't he trust women?
Then i realized that the sooner i knew the answers, the sooner i could stop thinking about him. Everything was in the challenge of knowing-after knowing i would certainly lose interest.
Well, what if knowing will take me a lifetime...????


( here's one for fun- you might put it in the competition or not -i don't mind-i just got inspired) :p

Thank you lorinka. The commission will gather to evaluate the story

Re: I almost choked

uhhhh wowww very interesting and intriguing ... good lori! could i know what is next please?:p

naten e mire!

It would have been more interesting if the whole conversation was included and the names of those who participated .Damn, that would have been fun,fun.

Citim:

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Po citoj ato që tha eliz
It would have been more interesting if the whole conversation was included and the names of those who participated .Damn, that would have been fun,fun.

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Don`t feel like writing anything...sorry

oh yes Eliz. you just have to translate what u wrote from Albanian to English. the inspiration with the waves of the sea

Analiste do you remember those moments inside the sea with big waves.
You can put yourself at the point that the waves go under you.You don`t
really feel anything,just go up and down with the waves.A nice feeling but
nothing more.Or you can sit almost at the shore, wait for the wave,a little
scared but you know you can do it.It comes and hits you hard.You should
hold your breath for seconds and feel your blood starts rushing, sea throws youaway,you start breathing again and it`s all over.Now you want to try the point that you have no control over it.You sit down waiting and thinking: What will it be like?You are scared but deep down you know you want to go on with doing it.You have still time to get up and leave but you`re still there.You still have a few seconds to run away from it but you`re still there.Because you want to be there.Now it`s to late.Here comes the wave.It takes you and turns you 360 degrees like you are a leaf with,like you have no weight.You loose sense of place,sense of time.It`s only you totally unprotected and totally under the power of the wave.
You are one with it.You don`t even have time to think which part of the body You are going to break.It`s a feeling that lasts a lifetime.It`s like a ride between life and death.Of course you choose living,you come to the surfaceand you breathe and breathe.You are glad to be alive.You go out shaking and turn to see the sea.That beauty!What a feeling!You wish you were the sea!But you know you cann`t be.This is not for the competition,just for Analiste.I hope you enjoyed the ride because the story came to its end

1-I`m not a writer
2-i don`t know English that well as to express myself in English
I feel like I have just destroyed the English language .May God forgive me
and may no american or english person ever read these lines!

Your English is very good with few little mistakes. Bravo I admire your courage

darke

ur turn to write.

The first time....

The first time ….

Confused about the emotions he stirred in me, I tried to pull free but my name on his lips stilled my weak struggles. His mouth lowered , opening and slanting before covering mine, and I was lost in the sweet pleasure of his kiss , my heart knew I could be hurt in the outcome of it all , and yet I wanted him to make love to me. I wanted to feel that the firm muscled body against my own and give myself unreservedly to him all the while knowing this should not be.
I flushed as he pulled my shirt over my head exposing the fullness of my breast before his hungering eyes. His mouth touched my breast with a moist , burning heat that took my breath away and set my heart racing wildly within my chest.
With one hand he caressed my soft skin , while the other gently peeled off my panties and tossed it to the end of the bed. His breath sucked in through clenched teeth as my fingers slipped beneath his t-shirt caressing his against him and pressing hard and hot between my thighs , awakening passions I hardly knew existed . His hands and lips glided over my body with the bold confidence of a man who had no doubt in himself.
As our kisses deepened , I arched against him answering his hard , thrusting hips with a hunger that equaled his. We clung to each other as we were lifted higher on the crest of our passion . As our lips blended in the warm afterglow of our passion , the world was lost to us as we sipped the sweet nectar of our sated desires.




Three things of life that are never sure:
Dreams, Success & Fortune

Mistrecja

Something that I wrote a long time ago...


“The Suitcase”

The warm air felt like a comfy blanket covering every inch of her skin. The trees stood tall in front of her like giants, with their leaves waving goodbye to the chilling winter. The wind blew away from her face her soft golden hair. She looked up, mesmerized and curiously examined every visible inch of the giants standing in front of her. It was as if she could talk to the trees, share with them her feelings, her joys and sorrows and in return they would tell her their stories of hardship and countless years of history. The winters had grown the trees tired, their trunks scared from the fury of wintry winds. The history of the storms that the trees endured was carefully recorded in each scar, and with it was the history of the human existence and endurance. Probably these trees accompanied her parents through the years; probably they knew what their childhood was like. She had only heard about it from her parents and wanted a second opinion from the silent friends she loved trusted, the trees.
Era circled the trees in a wild dance begging them to talk to her. She twirled around in craziness and felt the warm wind brush her, it lifted her little skirt up and she felt like she was flying. She loved nature, the trees, the flowers, the birds and especially the warm air caressing her. Her small feet stepped on the soft carpet of grass but she was careful that in her dancing she would not touch the white tiny flowers decorating that green carpet. She looked further down and saw the mountain in the horizon. It erected triumphant over her village as if in mockery of the size of their houses. Then she focused her house which did not stand in a distance, it was small with red bricks, a brown roof in a triangular shape, small windows and a backyard in which her and her grandmother had planted flowers two years ago. She had been 5 years old then, and took a great deal of pleasure in planting small flowers, but now those flowers reminded her of her dearly grandmother who had died in the same year. She remembered how upset she was, how she felt like her grandmother had been stolen from her as a punishment for not obeying her. Her loss not only affected her emotions but also the economy of the family. After her grandmother’s death their family had suffered even more from poverty because her mother had to quit her job to take care of her.
Era didn’t notice it but her vision had become blurry. Unintentionally two tears had betrayed her and escaped her big blue eyes, racing down her cheeks, caressing her soft lips and spreading a salty taste. She wiped her eyes and noticed that it was getting dark. The sun was hidden behind the mountain. Small bright stars were appearing in the sky’s darker shade of blue. She decided that it was time to go home. She had done her homework earlier so that she could go and enjoy the company of nature since she would not have any friends to play with that day. They had all gone to a field trip in the city but she did not have the money to join them.
She was tired and sad but for her it was much more than tiredness. It was heartache, being able to wake up in the morning, reluctant to get out of the freezing bed sheets knowing that the room was as warm as a morgue. The sad faces of her parents, trying to count the money before going to work so that they knew how much to save for bread this week. Would they have money to buy some milk? She really liked milk. Sometimes her mother would throw some coffee in it because she loved the taste of it and also because her mother had told her that coffee would give her energy to last all day.
She knew how hard it was, yet, she was just a child, naïve and innocent waiting for her chance to be exposed to the world which her parents shielded her from. They said it was cruel out there, a real struggle and they wanted a better chance for their little daughter (although she felt big, her parents told her she needed to grow up more). Her parents always talked about a better chance at life abroad their poor country. Her mother’s eyes would light up whenever they talked about the USA. She would turn to Era and say:
“Sweetie, if we get an approval to our visa application, you can go to a better school. You will live in a big city, have all the chocolate milk you want and have many friends.”
“You can become whatever you want there, no one can stop you because you will be free to choose your own destiny,” her father would join in.
“Can I become a doctor and bring grandma back, cure her from her illness?”
“Grandma can’t come back sweetie because she is at a better place now and watching over you. Hopefully she will watch over all of us, and give us the miraculous visa. But you can surely become a doctor and cure other children’s grandmas”
Era agreed to these promises and went to practice on her medical skills. She put a white robe on (which was her mother’s nightgown) to imitate the doctor that had visited grandma. She took her favorite doll (made out of cloth) which her mother had sawn together as a reward for her good behavior at a dinner. Then she took her father’s working stool and turned it in a table for her little patient. She went on like this for hours, dreaming of saving her precious doll’s life. Her eyelids started to feel heavy and her stomach empty. She was reluctant to leave her game but her hunger was a winner always. She took off her robe and went to have dinner and then to sleep.
She went to bed and thought about what her parents said. Oh, how she loved to hear her parents tell dreams of her future. She felt important; she did not feel bound to the life she was accustomed to. She would be like the birds that she saw from her window, free and able to choose their own destiny. Freedom of choice, it sounded like a good thing because her parents talked so passionately about it. When she asked what that was her mother coldly answered that it was being able to have a choice of being a hard worker and earning what you worked for. It sounded fair. She would definitively be a hard worker because she knew she took after her mother, and when she would earn her money she would be able to buy chocolate milk, and not add coffee to it so that it had a similar taste. Then she would also be able to go buy that doll with the golden hair that she saw everyday as she passed by the store on her way to elementary school. Oh, but wait, she had more on her list. She would get that new book bag that Maria so proudly carried on her back. Then, she would get the red ribbons for her hair, the bracelet with the shiny metal, the new book of adventures and so on. She stopped to think, her list was so big but her chances so small. She would never be able to get those things; her parents had told her that they needed a miracle. What was a miracle? Would that be like baby Jesus being born? Did she need a miracle as big as that to get the doll with the shiny hair? It was helpless. She tried to be a good girl, because her mother told her that miracles happen to good girls, but she had been a good girl for a whole week now (at least that’s what everyone said, because no one had seen her pull the cat’s tail), and nothing was happening. She felt guilty. Maybe God had seen her pull the cat’s tail and that is why he did not send the miracle that her parents were talking about. She decided to never do that again and wait.
The wait was a long one, just as winter, who had cramped all her bones. But now she stood next to the giant trees, and waved goodbye to the chill. She was able to get out now, run around and feel the warmth brush her hair. She would run and spin so fast that the earth would twirl around her as if to engulf her. The air smelled like flowers which bloomed to invite the hungry insects that ran to them to feed on as if they had a century that they were starving. Oh, she just remembered, all of a sudden it felt like she was the one that had not been fed in a century. She ran home, smelling the sweet smell of her mother’s cooking. She walked in the door and saw that her mother had a letter in her hand and was crying. She saw her at the door and said:
“Era, go call your Dad. Fast”
But why was her mother crying? She did not seem sad and just a while ago she had heard her singing while cooking. She decided to obey her mother anyway and ran to her father.
“Daddy”
“Yes hon?” said her father coming out from under the car with his dirty hands, clothes and face. He looked so old lately.
“Fast, mommy is crying and she asked for you”
His face darkened and he rushed to clean his hands. Then grabbed her in his arms and they both ran home.
“What is the matter?” he asked with a very concerned face
“We got the answer, and we have been granted the visa. We are going to the US”
“You are joking, right?” said her father. His face had turned from sad, to expressionless then to bright. He took the papers from her mother’s hands and read a few sentences. As he was reading his eyes were shining brighter with every word that he read.
“It is a miracle” he said.
A miracle? The whole time she was standing by the door waiting to find out what was going on. She never expected this. Wow, she would finally get her own golden hair doll.
“Yes, Era” her mother said, “you will not only get that doll but many more. I told you that miracles happen to good girls. You will now be able to get whatever you want” as she was saying this her eyes were filling up with tears but her mother was laughing also, joined by her father, they were crying together and then they grabbed her in their arms and started dancing around and hugging and kissing. She liked the miracle and she was so excited to be going to a new place. She silently thanked Grandma and promised that she would be the best Grandma-saver in the world.
She ran out to, her best friend’s house. She could not feel her feet touch the ground because of the speed of her run. She stopped for a moment to catch her breath and feel the ache that was rushing through her muscles. She finally arrived and impatiently knocked on the door. Ada’s mother opened the door and invited her in. She couldn’t wait to tell Ada so as soon as they met Era blurted out:
“I,” and she paused again to catch her breath, “I have been given a miracle. Grandma has been watching over me and gave us a visa to go live in the USA.”
Ada watched in confusion then she asked:
“What are you going to do over there?”
“I will go live there and become a doctor.”
“Is USA far?”
“I think so, but I can probably take a bus with my parents and come and play with you and I will bring the new dolls that mommy will get me. Just like the one with the golden hair that we see when we go to school.”
“Oh,” said Ada with a sight of relief “That is just great then, I might even come and visit you there and we can play with the new dolls. Maria will envy us. It will be so great”
“Ok, I have to go now but I will see you tomorrow. Good night.”
Era left running again to her house. What Ada had said sparked some disturbing thoughts in her head. All of a sudden her house seemed farther than it was. She kept running but felt as if the ground was moving in the opposite direction and keeping her back. She gathered some more strength and fought with her muscles to speed up. She did not know how far USA was but she was going to find out soon, although she knew in her heart that it was not far from home.
When she finally got home she found all her aunts and uncles had come to take part in their happiness. The men were talking loudly and her father kept giving them explanations on how he had met an American who owned a business in USA and how he had repaired his car. The American had been very satisfied with the work and had talked to Era’s father about their life. Era’s father had told him the hardships that they went through everyday and his wish for an opportunity to a better life. The American had felt sympathetic and had offered to give her dad an affidavit of support and a job if they received a visa. When they had applied it had been as throwing a lucky penny in a fountain. They dreamed about the chance and talked about it, but it had not crossed their minds that they would be fortunate enough to actually be given that visa.
Era listened at her father’s story but she knew most of it and remembered every moment that they had talked about USA. It was a dream but now it was becoming a reality and Era needed to know some facts before she could be clear on how wonderful this miracle had been. It sounded good and everybody seemed to congratulate them, but why had Ada asked her that question? For some reason it bothered her and she did not want to let herself miss all the joy in the family thinking about that comment that Ada made probably out of jealousy because she was going to be the one that finally got the doll they both desired. She searched the house with her eyes and tried to locate her mother. When she finally saw her, she was engaged in a conversation with her aunts who were crying a little.
She grabbed her mother by her arm. When her mother turned her head Era saw two shining streaks in her cheeks. She panicked. Why would her mother cry? Was the miracle a lie? Her mother quickly whipped her face and tried to smile and so did her aunts. Then her mother asked Era:
“Sweetie is something wrong?”
“Mommy why are you crying? Did Grandma take back her miracle?”
“No Era. These are tears of joy.”
“Okay. Can I ask you something?”
“Sure Era. What is it?”
“How far is USA. Can I visit Ada whenever I want? Is there a bus there?”
“No Era, you won’t be able to visit Ada but you will get many new toys and make many new friends. You will love it there, I promise. USA is far and we might never come back but America will become your new home.”
“Mommy, I don’t want a new home, and I don’t want to make new friends”
“Don’t worry Era. It will be just fine. Now go decide what you want to take with you but remember you can’t take too much stuff because new things await you there. New great things like toys, a big room just for you, new clothes, new school, new friends and even a new language. I have left a suitcase for you which you can fill up with the things that you don’t want to leave behind. Go now and let mommy take care of things.”
Era walked away. She was shocked. She might never come back here? But here was her home. Grandma watched over her here, would she be able to follow her that far, to America? She stopped to think, would this mean that she would never get to see the giant trees in the spring while they waved goodbye to winter? How about her cat, would she come too? She did want the doll but she did not want to give up all friends she had. Her mother was assuring her that where they were going she would make new friends and go to a better school but she wanted her old school, her old friends and the plain milk.
Her parents had set a date of departure and bought plane tickets. This was turning to be a nightmare. She wanted a miracle and just a doll. She did not ask to be ripped off her childhood.
Her mother had given her a small suitcase and told her to select her favorite things to take them with her. She looked around and started weighting with her mind the importance and necessity of each thing. Would she need them? Would she have new ones when she got there? She decided that she had to put priorities since very few things could fit in the suitcase. This was tormenting. She first grabbed her dolls but then stopped. She was getting new dolls there, but she could not abandon her old dolls that were her friends in the cold winter nights, keeping her safe and warm. She decided to take them. They were the only friends that she would be able to take with her since Ada and her school friends would have to stay there. She was happy that she made that decision, and went to to decide the next thing to receive her “visa” of approval to go to the USA with her. She looked at her books, she needed them if she wanted to practice writing and be good at it, but then she remembered that her mother had told her that she would learn a new language because no one in the USA spoke her language. Oh, she said then I probably don’t need them, but then the thought of grandma came in her head. She did not speak English so Era would not be able to communicate with her. She changed her mind and put them in the suitcase. Then she took the notebook with the dried leaves. She will need them to remind her of her giant friends, the nature here and most of all, of Grandma. She ran outside and cut a flower from the garden then she and Grandma had created and put it in her notebook. Then she took little souvenirs that her friends had given her, birthday and holiday presents. Her suitcase was full yet there was so much more she could take with her. How could her mother give her such a small suitcase?
The departure date came and Era’s suitcase was put in the trunk of the car and later in the plane with the rest of their luggage.
She traveled to the USA to find a world of opportunities as well as a world of sadness, melancholy and struggle. However, she appreciated the opportunities that the USA gave her and took advantage of them. She became a doctor and saved many children’s grandmothers. She went back at her country to visit after nearly 20 years of being away.
Now, 30 years later, Era still saves her precious suitcase. She looks at it and remembers being a child, forced by her situation to fit her childhood in one small suitcase.

COLOURS

Citim:

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Po citoj ato që tha lorie
ur turn to write.

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Oh darke, it seems like a springtime, full of colours, full of emotions, full of life...

Re: I almost choked

Citim:

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Po citoj ato që tha lorie
,i could hardly breathe when i saw you,your features.Then i trembled like a brownish autumn leaf and fell on the ground. Well,it was not me,it was my heart welling and rolling like a roll coaster. And i trembled more ,when i dined with you.
-It's cold,do you feel it?- what excuse...
I blamed myself back then- i hated flirting-i thougth it was plain wrong.I had sworn to myself not to. With the stiffness comes the coldness-or is it the other way round ?
It's not you ,it's the mystery of you,that sparkle in the eyes, the wierd words you said for the first time to me: do you see yourself married in a year,i don't...-as if i was interested in that particular privacy-threatening adventure/commitment.
Me neither -i said laughing.Now ,that wierdness sparkled my eyes. I had a challenge in front of me: you.I had to psyche you out. I love complications.
Not only the hormones were screaming but the millions of questions as well: an intellectual challenge.
Then, it was a relationship challenge since my best friend was so plain open about her crush for you.
We laughed hard, after some months when she got over him,when i told her that i had prayed so hard not to show any kind of feeling toward him during the Virginia christian retreat since she was so into him anyway. It was then that i told her i had liked him the first moment i had seen him-was it likeness..?
She thought i was so strong ,just because of the fact that i helped her confide her deepest worries about him when i had worries myself.
When the time of my shaking jaws had finished ,i had another challenge: that to talk freely and just casually with him.
My sister made fun of me when i was waiting for him to come to me ,not the other way round.She thought it was cute for me to be shy.I wanted to scream. He was talking to another girl - another one that had almost the same infatuation i did.She confessed it to us (my best friend and I) that sunday afternoon when we were going to eat at Panera's. Great! Another rival.-I thought discouraged...but not for long...
I soon learned i was one out of many that were experiencing the same thing i was-he wasn't even handsome..well a little,but not as handsome to have so many admirers.
Every girl that came in the picture wanted to get to know him in a 'deeper level'- that was The Expression. And i kept being patient for the girls to know him 'deeper' . He, on the other hand didn't even suspect he had a line of women running after him. That was the thing that made me laugh most and attracted me most. He was just unique, and unexplainable.
What a trip this guy!
That hot day,after whatching a jazz concert i lashed out all my thoughts to her, i couldn't keep things in for long.Besides i had learned whatever you don't talk about, is already out of control and i,more than anything, wanted to have control over some things ,or feelings related to a guy that had possesed a good part of my thoughts without even knowing him on a 'deeper level'. That was freaky!
And what i discovered in that confession was that i was attracted more to the challenge of mystery ,rather than the guy himself. I just wanted to know what ran through his mind ,more than anything,even the little details;what shampoo does he use for his hair?- is his room full of books since he loves reading?- how many fingers does he break when he plays football?- what are his patterns of behavior?-why so much guilt in his life?- why does he love sarcasm?-why doesn't he trust women?
Then i realized that the sooner i knew the answers, the sooner i could stop thinking about him. Everything was in the challenge of knowing-after knowing i would certainly lose interest.
Well, what if knowing will take me a lifetime...????


( here's one for fun- you might put it in the competition or not -i don't mind-i just got inspired) :p

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Lorie I read your last entries and I have to say the way you've described it all is very very captivating. I would like to read a book from you someday, I doubt that day is not so far.

I would love to read the rest. If it's okay with you let us know how everything goes.

thnx Ilirusa

that's very enchouraging, i haven't written in quite a long time and frankly i thought i didn't have much to write.
But it turns out ,writing a mirror of my life, is more than anything i can come up with. realism!
keep it real!- as my friend's( M.) favorite motto says

keep it real

as real as it gets.
Well, i sensed lately that when i was talking to him twice he was avoiding me.
"oh i've got to talk to x brother" And even though higly intuitive, i never dared to ask why he was behaving so strangely. I just went along and played like i didn't care...but i did.
By this time, i told my other friend W, what i felt for him after she made tons of uncomfortalbe questions. I knew she used to like him so why bother...but she kept enchouraging me that if i wanted to get to know him more i had to pursue the friendship with him. And if he was avoiding me then i should say to him straight to the face: what is wrong with you man?
I never wanted to do that, actually because he had so many admirers i didn't want to be his 'next victim' or his 'next statistic'.
She laughed out loud.
If he wanted to get to know me better, he had to make the first move for i knew i had tried to get to know him better but he was so complicated. He had changed of course. His spiritual walk with God had improved a lot, had become bolder and much more loving especially after returning to serving at the pre-teen Bible camp. And i had changed too. I had become firm, less shy and more giving. That alone doesn't really bring to anything because i was slowly getting the conviction that man is the pursuer and the woman is the pursued. And since God created us this way, i wanted to be hard to get,not to torture the guy, but to reveal him the treasure there is in a woman and the patience one has to have to win a woman's heart. Because yes, women have so much strength and fierce passion but at the same time vulnerability.
Song of songs in the Bible describes such a romantic and passionate love between a man and a woman,but one thing i learned from this book is you don't push somebody to love you, you don't go an extra mile to make the other person feel something for you. The only thing you can do is be lovable.
I know many women do just that;because of their insecurity,their fear of being alone for the rest of their lives, but having God in my life teaches me to stay still ,and be at peace even though the world around me is spinning like a hurricane; i have a rock and that is Him. God will reveal everything at its time.
Daughters of Jerusalem.. i charge you, do not awaken love until it so desires.--that was my line 3 months ago and still is.

I don't know what will happen next- and that's the fun part, that's adventure, if i knew i wouldn't be so thrilled to find out. it's like a soap-opera

I thought i would never write about it again

because i thought it was over. I thought: My heart can't be waiting for long so I want to just forget about him.(this is my typical reaction when something is hard-i shut off my heart) But something happened.... He moved from the singles ministry to help with the teens ministry,and since teens and campus ministries have most of its activities planned together i started seeing him and talking to him more than before. I was liking the idea that he was around but i wasn't liking the fact that i was a little uneasy when sitting in his car showing him the directions to go to another town where a devotional with other college christians was happening. There were 4 of us, MC, L, J, and I.
I kept thinking why did i still feel like that. Why uneasy? I thought i was over shyness. Surely i had come a long way-i used to shiver around him, but still even though i knew him, i had a hard time opening conversations that were dear to me.
One thing i realized was my stubborness, my pride. I have always been used to having a man first express his feelings for me,in most cases i prefer to be pursued ,( i mean what woman on earth wouldn't? ) but my friendship with him requires me to be more opened, to risk my heart more, something that i have trouble with.
This is one truth that i am starting to get more used to. My heart is very very precious. I never thought it was so special but knowing that i mean so much to God, that I mean His only Son, i know now that my heart is God's first and foremost priority. I know it is not right to fake i don't care for this person, it is a way of lying and lying is a sin, something God hates passionately and i hate passionately.
Even though i have trouble exposing my heart because i might get hurt, rejected, feel unloved i need to risk it so that i can live life to the fullest, the life Jesus preaches about. I know that only God will protect my heart, i can't depend on self-defense mechanisms, they don't let me grow as a person.
So it is the hardest thing for me to be a friend to him and yet keep it cool without him noticing that i have feelings for him but i have to, i have to be a better friend and maybe ,just maybe God will lead him to me.
Women choose extreemes: whether they run away from fear (my case) or they go upfront and let the person know openly their feelings. ( my best friend's case) It is so hard to chose the middle way, to like him and be a friend to him and hope for the best and surrendering your heart to God that if something that you want will not happen that is ok,and that is just fine,and for me that is all peace of heart.
So i will try the hardest way and let my heart in God's hands.(oh it's easier said, than done) My old self,my old pattern of doing things and dealing it MY way creeps in so often,insulting God's power. But i am so glad i serve a gracefull and much much loving God.
I love you Dad.