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Hostage

I was dishonest, I admit it. I lied about something that I shouldn't have and completely disrupted my relationship to the point where I have to accept that it will probably never be the same. It was straight chaos for weeks and what I think really exacerbated the dispute was that my girlfriend never thought I could ever do anything wrong. She thought I was perfect and would make a point to tell me that almost everyday.

But that's just it, I'm not perfect. I never was. I make mistakes, a lot of mistakes. I sometimes say the wrong things at the worst times. Sometimes I forget to do things or I'm late for a date. And guess what, sometimes I even lie.

flower-370101_640I'm not proud of what I've done and I don't want this post in any way to justify me lying. My only goal is to say that we all have many sides to us. Both males and females can be equally caring and unemotional, headstrong and docile, angry and forgiving. We just need the maturity to decide when to best act on those emotions. No one person should be held hostage to being that one person all the time. We are multidimensional, emotional beings and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.

I still have a lot of growing to do myself. I'm slowly coming into the person I want to be but truthfully I'm not sure I'll ever get there. I may always be a work in progress, trying to balance each side of my personality while trying to consider those around me who matter most. Hopefully they're patient enough to stick with all of the "me's" long enough for me to figure things out. Guess I'll have to wait and see....

Let's Not Capture This Moment

It was the perfect moment. Twelve writers sitting around a make shift round table, caps off the bottles of rum and white wine that half filled most of our glasses as the evening got underway. The sun had already disappeared with dim bulbs and a few sparsely placed candles providing more than enough light for us to read. And then it started. One by one each writer read pieces they had created; some that day, others the week prior, others still years before. Collectively we listened, applauded, criticized, and praised each work and how they were delivered. We launched in to discussions about meaning, symbolism, alliteration, all things only a group committed to the art could understand and appreciate. Everyone spoke and everyone listened. And when the moment ended three hours later it left a connection silently acknowledged by all. A connections shared through our common passion for the art of expression.

The entire night was inspiring, and through it all not one single picture.

I couldn't believe it myself. No one tried to gather everyone in a corner to create the perfect Instagram post. No one took pictures of the bottles of alcohol spread out around the tables. We were all deeply infused in the moment, engaged by our own words, our own thoughts, without even the slightest preoccupation of capturing the moment.

But the moment is still vivid in my memory. I can still feel the emotions of that evening without having to visit my twitter stream. We lived it. Every second of it. And it still means just as much

There is something liberating about the ephemeral. Knowing no matter how amazing or how crippling a moment, that "this too shall end." You are free to be free. To embrace that moment and then let it go. No picture can ever capture that. *******************************************************************

Read "Thoughts of a Fractured Soul," a tragedy of family, failed potential, and the Millennial struggle with ambition, expectation and the fight for independence.

Available in print and e-book format at www.kerncarter.com.

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