dwell in your hearts

You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts; And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart you live in your lips, and sound is a diversion and a pastime. And in much of your talking, thinking is half murdered.
—  Kahlil Gibran
How to be happy
  • Remember that other people are independent actors in the world and so what they do is all about them and not about you. Don’t take anything personally.
  • Since others act for themselves for their own purposes if you have expectations they will always, eventually, let you down. 
  • Acceptance of what is and can’t be changed will give you lasting peace of mind.
  • You can love yourself even if you are flawed and imperfect.
  • Learn to intercept and reject painful and destructive thoughts.
  • Understand that the voice of ego is not who you are.
  • Cultivate happiness by noting when you are happy and remembering how it feels.
  • Be kind, compassionate and generous.
  • Remember that all things change and cherish what you have in your life.
  • Let other people be wrong if they choose. It is not your place to teach them or correct them unless they ask.
  • Be humble. The humble person is at peace while the prideful person is at war with all the world.
  • Do not judge others or their path. You are not qualified to do so nor is it your right to do so. Moreover, it makes you unhappy.
  • Remember that everybody suffers even if you can’t see their suffering.
  • Forgive those who harm you or if you cannot forgive then put them out of your mind and heart. Do not dwell on perceived slights.
  • Know that worry solves nothing. Planning and action solve everything.
  • Pain, physical or emotional, is a signal that something is damaged. Finding out what it is and fixing it is the key to ending pain.
  • Remember that most of the things that you are afraid of will never happen, and most of the ones which do happen will not be as bad as you anticipated and for the few that are you will be able to handle them just as you have handled other problems in the past.
The Temptation of Voices

Originally posted by mylastlove-mylastsong

A/N: Bucky Voices Soulmate au

Due to popular demand here’s part 2

Part 1

You just sat and stared at him blankly.

He must have picked up the casual arrogance from some of his new buddies here, but it wasn’t fooling anyone. His smirking face and perfect teeth could not hide what lay in those baby blues as they analyzed everything about you. He lay his head on his flesh hand, subtly angling himself so his metal arm was out of sight. The movement just made his already fitted shirt get tighter and you tried not to stare at his pecs. Only you would be spellbound by a pair of nipples. He appeared to be having a hard time focusing too. He was the most beautiful person you’d ever laid eyes on and he was looking at you like you owned his soul.

The intensity snapped you out of it. For fucks sake. Was this meant to be some kind of sick cosmic joke? Your greatest fear of losing your soulmate exploited by the fact that your soulmate was the Winter Soldier. Oh yes, you knew who he was. You knew what he’d done. Though staring into his eyes it was hard to muster the same revulsion you’d felt watching the news.

The only thing you felt was trepidation. This was a man jovially hated throughout continents and people tried to kill him near enough everyday. His reputation as an avenger was still overshadowed by that of the terrorist he once had been. The odds of your soulmate surviving the next ten years were astronomically low. Fuck. Under all of the dread, over the years you’d held out a slight hope that he’d be innocuous and boring. Maybe living in a small town in Sweden. Somewhere quiet and safe.

That hope had been ruined the very moment you saw him. You had been ruined the very moment you saw him.

You giggled hysterically at the thought and broke eye contact to look back into the lobby, desperate to escape his intense stare.You were instantly struck with the image of a large blond man striding towards you with with long purposeful strides. As he got closer you realized it was Captain America. Your giggling got louder as you raised a brow. Of course it was Captain America, why wouldn’t it be? He was twenty feet away and you could already smell the freedom permeating the air. That’s not the usual civilian reaction. What, not used to cynicism? Of course I am love, you are my soulmate after all.

Your head swung back around to look at James and you sobered instantly. He was right, you were a civilian and he was your soulmate.You shouldn’t have been caught up in this. You saw the hurt flash across his face before he quickly masked it with the same blank look you’d given him. For some reason that flash made your heart ache but you refused to dwell on it. You had shit to do and life didn’t stop for anyone. Even earth’s mightiest heroes. The title made you scoff inwardly, Stark was definitely the one to come up with such a profoundly self-important name. What a douche and yet another reason why you couldn’t stay.

Abruptly you stood, James following the movement-seeming to be in sync with you already. The thought made you physically recoil. You put on the neutral smile learned from years of customer service and barely managed to force out your next words. “It was nice to meet you James but if it’s not a bother to you I’ll be on my way.” Out of the corner of your eye you saw the Captain’s brows shoot up at your steely tone but your main focus was James. He showed no outward reaction but you could feel his frustration bubbling below the surface.  

Your reasons for leaving had nothing to do with him. Well, they had everything to do with him but that didn’t mean you were going to explain yourself. You indignant anger was irrational but necessary if you wanted to leave.

You had to stop yourself literally running to the doors, all the while feeling two pairs of eyes burning into the back of your skull.

You hailed a cab, not willing to make the same mistake that lead you to the dreaded meeting and breathed an audible sigh of relief when the door closed. It was a given that he’d be watching your thoughts closely for at least the next few hours so you tried to stop reeling. You focused on the most annoying pop song in the charts and just sang it in your head as loud as you could until you got home.

There were a few ways to block your soulmate, usually used for buying anniversary gifts and adultery but you were sure you weren’t the first trying hide the shock of the meeting. The easiest method was meditation focused wall building. The aim was to build a wall with your soulmate behind it and keep it up for as long as your focus would hold. You could think whatever you wanted as long as the wall stayed up in the back of your mind. The only problem with this method was you needed to be calm enough to focus, and you were certainly not calm.

Breathing exercises were usually the way to go but for some reason they just weren’t working and that set you off panicking even more. You ran to the shower and turned it as cold as it would go, jumping in with your clothes still on. The shock stopped the turmoil inside of you long enough for your breathing to return to normal. It was a trick you learned from Minnie in the early stages of her loneliness. Sometimes she would just remember that there was no one out there waiting for her and she would just stop breathing. The only way to bring her back was to shock her. The thought brought back old pain and sad memories. She’d kill for a chance to meet her soulmate.

Sitting alone and freezing at the foot of your shower you finally processed what you’d done. You’d met him. You could never unmeet him. In one moment of stupid fear you’d doomed yourself to a life of dread and waiting. Erecting a wall didn’t matter anymore because he’d seen you. He knew your face. The tears came slowly, sobs choking you as you realized you couldn’t hide forever. With Stark’s technology he could probably find you in minutes, if not seconds, and he would find you. You had absolutely no doubt he would come to find you because the moment you looked into his eyes you’d been entranced. His eyes commanded yours and you had feeling it was mutual.

You’d barely had the capacity to break out of it, only the realization of who he was broke the spell. Even now you yearned to see him. It was a fucking curse.

You could still feel him. Somewhere under all of your own torment, he was hurting too. He wasn’t innocent that was a certainty, but he’d done nothing to incur this particular pain. His misery just made you cry harder. In an effort to protect yourself you’d hurt him. His suffering was your fault.

You let your self-pity run wild for the next few hours, never getting up from the freezing spray. After a while you heard him. Where are you? I can feel the cold from here. His tone was conversational, if slightly groggy, but you knew what lied beneath. He could never hide from you either anymore. You shriveled up into a fetal position and started to rock.

You need to snap out of this. If not for me then for yourself. He was right and sweet as always but you couldn’t understand why. You’d basically just rejected him, forcing him to lose his ‘one true love’. I’ll leave you for now but I’m not going away permanently. As your soulmate I have a right to know why I’m being rejected. You smiled at his commanding tone. Once a soldier, always a soldier. Damn right, doll.

You changed the water from freezing to lukewarm then stood back and peeled off your ruined clothes. You were going to get through this. Somehow.

Later as you were laid on your couch listening to the rain outside and low background hum of the TV, you let yourself drift into his mind for the first time since you were a child.

He was talking to someone. As you got closer the voices got clearer. It was two men and and a woman. You scrunched your eyes closed as you tried to concentrate on the words. You’d never practiced listening in as your former main goal was to ignore him.

“She’ll come…..soon……a chance……won’t be cruel…”

It was the woman speaking, she sounded calm, soothing. Her voice was naturally low and sultry but oddly detached. She sounded nice, you were glad James had someone nice to talk to.

“Yeah, how could she resist……definitely won’t wait long with a murderer as….”

You recognized that voice. Tony. Fucking. Stark. Ugh, didn’t sound like he had changed. How could any woman resist his playboy charm and his billions. That poor woman was probably just another one of his conquests.

You rolled over and came back to yourself, you didn’t want to listen if they were talking about some poor unsuspecting female and how to bed her. You didn’t know James very well but you thought at least he’d be better than that. Better than what? You focused really hard on the bullshit on TV. It doesn’t matter. Okay he replied dubiously While we’re talking I’d like to ask you if you’d like to get a coffee with me. You thought about what he’d said, about explaining your rejection. You supposed it would be fair. He had a right to know. I’ll take that as a yes. I’ve heard about this cute little coffee shop just down the block from the tower. If you meet me at the tower doors tomorrow I’ll walk you there. You knew this was just a scheme to spend a little more time with you but you didn’t really care.

Even if it pained you to admit it, you were at least mildly curious about him as a person. He wasn’t just a disembodied voice anymore. He had a body. A really nice one too. It wasn’t like you had anything to do tomorrow but you sure as shit weren’t gonna waste any time. 10am sharp outside the doors or I’ll turn around and walk straight home. You got it doll. You could hear the smile in his voice and it didn’t piss you off this time.

Instead an image filled you head of two entwined hearts falling from the sky to literally crash and burn. You shook yourself out of it before muttering “Bet that’s a fucking omen.”

Part 3

Part 4


@bitsyb21 @thescarlethnight @wanderingkat77 @theariel85 @nerdy-and-ginger @learisa @mairhof1 @myinnerinside @sebstanwassup @lovely-geek @cams91443 @thelostswan @llama-hunter-on-fire @tom-is-in-my-tardis @gingerbatchwife @fandomhoghere

Imagine Jack receiving his first kiss

You know very well things have been different in the bunker lately . Sam and Dean have brought home a new addition to the hunter family. Jack is his name and you think how adorable he was when you first met him. Innocent and naive like a child, but surprisingly mature, too. There was something about him that you can not stop thinking about.

Today is the day that Sam and Dean go out for a hunt for the day and leave Jack behind. They tell you it’s too dangerous for him this time.

You are sitting in your room, watching TV. Suddenly a knock on the door alarms you. You notice it’s just Jack.

“Hey, how’s it going, buddy?” You ask.

“I was just wondering if I could hang out with you for a while?” He asks back with a sweet and innocent tone to his voice.

“Of course!” You know he has been feeling a bit lonely since Dean has expressed his feelings to him.

He sits down beside you, and gives you this amazing child like smile. There’s a huge warmth dwelling up inside your heart. There’s a lovely sparkle in his eyes. You notice he actually is staring!

“Uhm, Jack,” you reply. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I don’t know…” he pauses for a second. “I just know one thing… I get this warm fuzzy feeling inside of me when I look at you. Ever since I came here with Sam and Dean, you have always made me feel welcome.”

Your eyes widen as you realize what he means…..

“Uh, well that does mean you might have feelings for me perhaps?” You sure hope so ! You could not help but think of how adorable he is.

“Feelings?” He asks innocently.

“Well, close your eyes, I want to show you something.”

He closes his and you inch closer to that lethal pout of his.

“Uh, Y/N, what’s happening? ”

“Shhhh,” you whisper as your lips meet. A lovely warmth fills the room, sparks fly as you both feel like you’re flying. He does not move away, surprisingly. You cannot help but think of how soft his pout really is.

You two have the most magical moment… and you never want it to end.

And this is the story of Jack’s first kiss

@marril96 @apritelleorai

To live alone, and continually to reopen the wounds in your heart by dwelling upon memories, may well make your life too drear for endurance. It causes at once great torment, and great delight. Such duality simply means that you have a strong sense of yourself, much aptness for self-criticism, and an innate feeling for your moral duty to yourself and all mankind. If your intelligence were less developed, if you were more limited, you would be less sensitive, and would not possess that duality. Rather the reverse: in its stead would have appeared great arrogance. Yet such duality is a great burden.
—  Fyodor Dostoevsky, from a letter to Nikolai Nikolayevitch Strachov, written c. May 1871

Each lion loves their Paladin. They admire how brave their Paladins are, and want to do the best they can.

“My Pilot,” is how Blue calls her Paladin. She is proud he is her Paladin. His type of flying is fun, and it brings her joy. He tells the most wild stories of his home pack, of the other Paladins. Sometimes he misses his home, but he is proud to stand and do his duty to help defend the universe.
“My Pilot, can we do that spin again?! It’s been so long since I’ve done flips!”
“My Pilot, you’ve brought a friend! Oh, is she a friend? That does not look like how you hold a friend.”
“I will not call you Sharpshooter. You are My Pilot.”

“Idiot Cub,” is how Red originally thinks of her Paladin. He is quick to act, he panics internally and is quick to make decisions. She does not initially take to her Paladin, but when he protects her, “Idiot Cub” becomes “My Cub.” She would go to the ends of all universes to protect her Paladin, because his fiery passion is a perfect match for her own. It matters not he is part Galra. She loves him all the same.
“My Cub, as upset as you are, we must continue forward. Do not worry. We will exact revenge for those lost.”
“My Cub, your heritage does not mean you are bad. There was a time I knew many good Galra. Perhaps your mother was one of them…”

“My Bird” is how Green calls her Paladin. Hearing her Paladins friends call them Pidge, she learns Pidge could be short for pigeon, a subtype of an Earth species called bird. She loves to amuse her Paladin, letting them tinker with her mechanics, helping to make her stronger. She listens to her Paladin talk about their family, about how they hope to find them. Green vows to help search the universe for “Matt” and “Dad”
“My Bird! My Bird, you can look at my panels now! Look, look!”
“My Bird, tell me about ‘Dad’ again. Can 'Dad’ be my friend too?”
“My Bird, you have to sleep! You can’t continue working if you are dead on your feet! That’s it! I’m shutting down, and you can’t stop me!”

“Friend,” is how Yellow refers to his Paladin. His Paladin can be very anxious, but he is so brave he will push all his fears aside to help those in need. Yellow loves to hear his Paladin talk, loves to hear about Earth mechanics and mathmatics. Humans seem to be a little behind technologically speaking, but Yellow is consistently impressed with his paladins ability to build, create, and repair with things he has only just started to use as tools. Yellow’s Paladin is kind, he cares deeply for his friends, cares deeply for his lion, so Yellow calls him “Friend” in return, because he cares about his Paladin too.
“Hello, Friend! Have you come to work on your 'Make-shift’ human objects?”
“Friend, you can breathe. There is air around you, open your lungs…”
“Who is this Balmeran girl you think of? Is she nice? Is she a friend? Any friend of Friend is my friend!”

“My Paladin,” is how Black refers to her pilot. She calls him this often, but he always seems to forget. She feels guilt, mourning for her corrupted past paladin, all the while mourning for the loss of innocence for her current Paladin. Her Paladin is too forgiving, in her opinion. He constantly blames himself for things he has no control over. She tries her best to ease his pain, tries to prevent nightmares and occasionally he gets a dreamless sleep. She loves her paladin, maybe more than she ever has. He is brave, and strong, and too self-sacrificial. She will keep him safe.
“Good work, My Paladin…”
“My Paladin, you did what was necessary, dwelling on the past will not ease your heavy heart. How I wish I could remove this weight off your shoulders…”
“Rest, My Paladin, I have you…”

Oh My My My - IX


SUMMARY: A love story from start to finish.

WARNINGS: language and angst.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: please don’t hate me part 2


Safe to say that you and Peter got close. Suddenly, Bucky was a thing of the past and something your heart didn’t dwell on anymore. You were getting better as each day passed. Peter helped a ton and so did Natasha and Wanda.

Summer was over and it was time to leave town and go to college. You didn’t get into your choice of school but you were still going to Los Angeles, the city of stars, to continue your education. After a long and tearful goodbye with your parents, Natasha, Wanda and Peter, you were off on a plane to the West Coast.

You met some new friends and though you were having a great time at school, you missed your home too much. You and Peter did a great job at keeping in touch while you were away. You believed he was the one you had always dreamed of.

Keep reading


Type: Halloween Special Series; One | Two
Genre: Angst, Drama, Fantasy, Mature/Suggestive, Vampire!AU, Witch!AU
Member: S.Coups/Seungcheol
Word count: 975
A/N: -

“Do I look okay?” The long, raven-haired girl whispers as she tugs at the hem of her short, black dress. Her heels tap along the marble floor as she stumbles around to fix her dress.

“Inna,” Seungcheol gently shakes his head with soft laughter, “You look amazing. Stop worrying.”

“I just don’t want your relatives to get the wrong thought,” she frowns, “especially your brothers.”

“Why would they? Besides, you’re my special guest.” He assures her as he loops an arm around her waist and pulls her towards him.

“I know,” Inna heavily sighs as she looks around the crowded ballroom, “It’s just…I get this feeling that I’m not welcomed…”

“What makes you say that?” Seungcheol raised a brow, “Did one of the boys say something to you?”

“Of course not.” She chuckles and playfully slaps his arm.

“No one gets to pick on my girlfriend, no man nor creature.” He kisses her forehead. Inna squirms a bit before burring herself into his embrace. He tucks her head under his chin and closes his eyes.

That was until he heard a sudden cheer followed by a familiar laughter that once lulled his mind.

Keep reading

There is only one Love that last forever. There is only one Love that fills our hears from here unto Eternity. There is only Love that is able to fill every crevice our worry, doubt, insecurity, and loneliness and that is the love of God that we experience by faith, in our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

So that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. - Ephesians 3:17-19

Whether you’re single, in a relationship, or married, let yourself be rooted and grounded in the love of Jesus. When you find yourself questioning if anyone will ever want you or if your boyfriend or husband will be able to fully comprehend what it means to love you, remember that even if he is a great man of God, he cannot fill your heart with Eternal Love like Jesus can. You can have the most beautiful, healthy relationship, but if you are not rooted and grounded in the love of Christ, then you will never truly be fulfilled.

Thank the Lord daily for His Love. Spend time in worship, not just once a week, but every single day there is breath in your body. Make your life about showing His Love to others, knowing that the Holy Spirit with strengthen you to do so. Wrap yourself in His Love on a daily basis and it let it be your guide for everything you do. Live like you are loved, because you are, and being loved by Jesus is the kind of love worth living for.

Written by @morganhnichols for #TheDevoCo

Behind Silence and Solitude (Negan x Reader) - Part 4 (Final Part)

Summary: You find yourself kicked out of Negan`s place and find a friend in Simon. But what do Negan think of your new friendship?

Part 1    Part 2    Part 3

Warnings: A lot of Angst, Jealous Negan, Possessive Negan, Usual Swearing, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal Attempt, Unrequited Love, Kind of fluff, Love Confession. 

Keep reading

so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.
Ephesians 3:17‭-‬19 ESV

bookgal13  asked:

How about Jamie and Claire take Manhattan (mid-20th century AU)?

We Live For Love

Two hours into their first rehearsal, Jamie Fraser asked Claire Beauchamp for a break.

Ever since he had shuffled out of The Broch and shrugged his shoulders against the cold wind pushing toward the East River, heading to catch the IRT back downtown, his mind had been swirling.

At this time yesterday he had been ironing his jeans, dreaming of taking the stage at Madison Square Garden. Standing by the side of some faceless frontman whose wails matched those of his guitar.

Now he was sweating in a third-floor room of a run-down factory, in between the flophouses and Chinese restaurants which reminded him why he always steered clear of the Bowery, praying the electricity wouldn’t fry his only amp – and trying for the life of him to figure out how to coax Claire into sounding like a rock and roll star.

Claire looked from Jamie to Ian – sweating behind his drum kit – to Willie Coulter, another guy from The Broch who Ian had quickly pressed into service as a bassist.

“Sure – I don’t mind if you guys smoke. But I could use some lunch.”

Willie set down his bass and Ian stood, stretching. “Want us to bring you something? I gotta take a walk.”

“The Chinese place two doors down has good lo mein. I’ll pay you back.”

“Get me one, too?” Jamie met Ian’s eyes in silent understanding. “And a Coke?”

“Sure.” Willie nodded, and soon his and Ian’s footsteps echoed in the stairwell.

Jamie shifted his guitar and turned to face Claire. She was perched on a high stool – just like she had been last night – pursing her lips.

“Look – you got a gorgeous voice, Claire.”

“I hear a ‘but’ coming,” she sighed.

He licked his lips. “But you can’t just sing like you’re on a Broadway stage, or in a cabaret. Your voice is too thin above the music that way. It’ll get lost. And you *can’t* get overpowered by the music.”

“I’m not overpowered – ”

“It’s not *you,* Claire!” He stepped a bit closer to her, feeling the ancient floorboards give a little. “Nothing is about you. It’s your *voice.* It’s about how you present your voice – it’s about your attitude. You have to really *feel* what the song is. To really *feel* the instruments – the rumble of the bass, the thump of the drums.”

She stood then, holding her ground. “I don’t want to yell or scream. I can’t lose my voice.”

“You won’t,” he promised. “I won’t let you. Look – you brought me here to help you. Let me help you.”

His eyes searched for hers, pleading. Willing her to understand what he was saying.

Wanting more than anything to establish that connection.

He launched into the opening riff of Blondie’s “Call Me” – the song they’d picked as the first to rehearse.

“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight,” he counted, watching her. “One more! One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight – GO!”

“Color me your color, baby, color me your car,” she sang. “Color me your – ”

Abruptly he stopped. “No, Claire – no. You can’t just sway into it – it’s not supposed to be a smooth transition from note to note. That’s not how Debbie Harry does it – that’s not how you’ll do it. Make it choppier. Again.”

She frowned, nodded. Wanting to argue back – but willing to learn. Open to his advice.

Four bars – sixteen beats for the intro. He nodded her cue.

“Color me your color, baby – ”

Again he stopped. “No, Claire. Too much. Too choppy.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “Show me, then.”

“You’ve got to remember that this is a song about a gigolo, Claire. It’s not a nice topic. Put yourself in his shoes. ‘Color me your color, baby…’”

Then she tried it again.

“Closer. Getting there. You have to just let it out, Claire. Forget every fucking thing your fancy voice coaches ever taught you. Push yourself into it. Let that beautiful voice just GO.”

She looked like she wanted to say something – but then thought again. Steeled herself.

Holy God, she was a warrior.

He plucked the opening chords again – and then –


Her gorgeous soprano floated aggressively over his raw guitar. Ethereal.

“Keep going!” he yelled over the chord progression between the chorus and next verse. “You got this. Keep going!”

She smiled triumphantly. So radiant. And drew from some spirit dwelling deep within her, and sang her heart out.

“Come up off your color chart – I know where you’re coming from – Call me!”

“Call me!” Jamie echoed the backing vocal.

“On the line, call me, call me any, anytime. Call me!”

Her eyes locked with his.

“Call me!”

It happened then – a connection sparking between them. In an instant, he recognized himself in her. Saw his future in her.

“My love, you can call me any day or night. Call me!”

And from the stunned look in her eyes, she did as well.

They finished the song, transfixed in each other.

Shaking with adrenaline.

And woke to the enthusiastic whoops and whistles of Ian and Willie, arms weighed down with paper bags full of egg rolls and lo mein and fortune cookies.

By three o’clock they’d nailed down not just “Call Me,” but also a fun, rollicking version of John Cougar Mellencamp’s “I Need A Lover.” A more traditional rock song, but with much different timing and tempos than Blondie.

It wasn’t too difficult for Willie or Ian – but Claire was clearly exhausted. She was too stubborn to admit it, but the last thing Jamie wanted was for her to truly blow out her voice on their first day.

“Hey – let’s call it a day?” he suggested after they’d finished yet another run-through, watching Claire quietly lean against the stool for support. She had been on her feet since they’d finished lunch – rocking and lunging and strutting as she sang. Her voice – and, more importantly, her confidence – seemed to grow stronger and stronger with each song.

But there was such a thing as too much practice. And Jamie desperately wanted to get some time alone with her.

“Yeah, fine by me,” she agreed, bending over to take a sip from her Coke. “You guys OK with that? Will you be ready for Murtagh to visit in the morning?”

“Not a problem.” Willie was already packing up his bass, and Ian reached for the bag where he kept his drumsticks. “You OK, Claire? Want me to walk you to the subway?”

“We’re going to stay back a bit,” Jamie interrupted, slipping his guitar off his shoulder and nonchalantly unplugging his amp. “Want to pick another song for tomorrow. Three is always better than two.”

He turned back to Claire, who had climbed back up on the stool, watching the three men put away their instruments.

“I want to thank all of you,” she said quietly. Voice strong, but a bit subdued. Awed.

“Oh, it’s nothing, Claire,” Ian smiled back. “We’re happy to – ”

“With respect, Ian,” she interrupted, “You don’t understand. This is – I’ve waited for this day for so long. It’s a dream I’ve risked a lot for. And you’re helping make that dream come true. So thank you.”

Willie picked up his case and softly crossed the room to gently lay a hand on Claire’s shoulder.

“We’re not done yet – tomorrow’s another day.”

She smiled at him – suddenly looking so tired. “Indeed it is. See you here at ten sharp?”

Ian shrugged into his backpack, clapped Jamie on the shoulder, and once again the drummer and bassist for their still-unnamed band slipped out of the rehearsal space.

Jamie knelt to close his guitar case, then stood to face Claire.

How to keep her by his side now, for even a few more minutes? How to extend this indescribable, incredible day?

“You want to get a drink somewhere?” he heard himself say.

This time when she smiled, it went all the way to her eyes.

God, she was beautiful.



Blondie, “Call Me”:


John Mellencamp, “I Need A Lover”:


Y'all, the idea that God’s will is never in conflict with your wellbeing DOES NOT MEAN do whatever the hell your pastor, priest, bishop, youth minister or other “holy person” says.

It means God doesn’t will something for you that is entirely bad for you. The same cannot be said for any of the others mentioned above. Trust your heart, where He dwells.

Also, as a sort of aside, you aren’t obligated to always love God’s will, real or imagined. Conscription isn’t a relationship, and you have a choice in almost EVERYTHING. That includes how you feel, at least to some extent. I didn’t love that I was compelled to leave my first college. I HATED IT. It turned out that it made all the difference, but I didn’t have a fucking glad heart. And that’s totally chill. Don’t be shamed into being “grateful.” Trials and tribulations suck, and it’s cool to say that.