Do you ever have things you just need to do?

I'm not talking about something that you want to do. I'm not talking about something you don't want to do but know you should. I'm not talking about those important everyday things required to succeed at life. I'm not even talking about something you dream about doing.

I'm talking about something you NEED to do.

The kind of need that starts with a pulling in your stomach, an intense misture of fear and anticipation.

It rises until it sits on your heart, where it just swells and grows. It pulses, uncomfortable at first, but then rise to fill your entire body with an intense need. It's not something you can think about doing anymore. You just need to do it.

It consumes your body, driving you to the point where you can't sit still any more. You need to do it. And you need to do it now.

This. I need to do this.

Mr. H. Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

Dear Harry,

You know, I'm used to thinking of you as grown up. I'm used to thinking of you as being over, having defeated Voldemort once and for all. I've seen it happen. I won't try to deny that it did. 

But today, I remembered that you are not only the boy who watched Dumbledore fall, the boy who tracked the horcruxes, the boy who was willing to die, the man who snapped a wand. I love to see you as all those things, but you are not only those things. 

You're the little boy who found a better world. 

You're the little boy who knew what the face of true friendship looked like. 

You're the little boy who knew to help those in need. 

You're the little boy who was so thankful for a sweater and some fudge. 

You're the little boy who knew to do what is right, even when no one was listening and you couldn't win. 

You're the little boy who lay in your hospital bed yelling "VOLDEMORT" because you knew, even then, that you couldn't be afraid. 

And you, little boy, will always live in my heart, hand in hand with the man you will become. 

All my love,

Sarah

Les "All the tears you can ever possibly cry"-ables

So, I have been on the biggest Les Miserables kick lately. I've always loved it, since I first saw it when I was twelve years old and the high school did it. I bawled. Sobbed. Since then, I saw it again onstage, watched the movie (which I thought was okay. But let's face it. Hugh Jackman butchered "Bring Him Home"), and I am currently listening to the audiobook, which has been extremely illuminating. And I just keep loving it more and more.

Because I've listened to the music so many times, I have started noticing some interesting things. I started to realize that some of the songs have the same basic melody. At first, I was upset. I was upset at the laziness of the composers. This beautiful musical deserves more than simply rewriting lyrics. But upon recognizing which songs had similar melodies, I realized that it was  done on purpose. The composers, instead of being lazy, were making purposeful MUSICAL ALLUSIONS!!!!

Needless to say, I freaked out. I started drawing all sort of connections between characters and events in the musical. Possibly it's my natural English major showing, but anytime I found another connection, I found something even deeper meaning in the story. I'll include links here so that you can hear the songs for yourself. I avoided some of the more overt ones (Do You Hear the People Sing/Finale or One Day More for example), but I wanted to point out some of the connections I've found.

"What Have I Done?": http://grooveshark.com/s/Who+Am+I+The+Trial/2v5KlW?src=5

"Javert's suicide": http://grooveshark.com/s/Javert+s+Suicide/2E5VVv?src=5

This is probably my favorite connection that I have found. This was the first one I noticed, that nearly the same song opens and closes the play. I love it because it suddenly brings these two warring characters so very close together. Javert is the antithesis of our hero Valjean, but these songs show us that they are not that different. At this point in his life, Valjean has made only bad decisions. He has become hardened to the world around him but comes to realize that he needs to change his entire life, that he needs to change his perspective completely to be able to continue living. He chooses to dedicate his life to God.

"I am reaching but I fall

And the night is closing in

As I stare into the void

To the whirlpool of my sin.

I'll escape now from this world

From the world of Jean Valjean

Jean Valjean is nothing now.

Another story must begin."

But, it is the same for Javert in the song he sings before his suicide. He even sings some of the same phrases (gives me chills). Javert, after seeing Valjean, begins to wonder if maybe he has been wrong about his entire life. The strict laws he have lived his entire life by are suddenly upset and he tries to figure out how he can live his life in this new world. There lies the major difference between the two of them. Javert can't change. He can't reconcile this new world with his opinion of the way things should be. 

"I am reaching but I fall

And the stars are black and cold

As I stare into the void

Of a world that cannot hold.

I'll escape now from this world

From the world of Jean Valjean.

There is no where I can turn.

There is no way to go on."

"Come to Me (Fantine's Death): http://grooveshark.com/s/Come+To+Me+Fontine+s+Death/21tfnc?src=5

"On My Own": http://grooveshark.com/s/On+My+Own/288lKe?src=5

"Finale": http://grooveshark.com/s/Finale/2v43YJ?src=5

I was extremely surprised to recognize this connection with "On My Own" being such a big belty song from the musical. But really, this tune happens at the same moment, when all of these pure characters are dying. For Eponine, it may not be physical death, but she has finally realized that Marius has never and will never love her. And yes, she completely dies inside. These characters have all had bad things happen in their lives, mostly to them. The beauty of Hugo's story is that the most innocent characters are the ones who have to suffer the most. But they are the ones who make it to heaven in the end. 

"Valjean Forgiven": http://grooveshark.com/s/Valjean+Arrested+Valjean+Forgi/21tfdw?src=5

"Empty Chairs at Empty Tables": http://grooveshark.com/s/Empty+Chairs+At+Empty+Tables/2fvW60?src=5

This one may be a little more of a stretch, but bear with me. The advice that the Bishop gives to Valjean after giving him the silver candlesticks is the same tune as when Marius sings after the death of all of his friends. This may be a shot in the dark, but I think it is simply to convey that same feeling of brotherly love. Marius is the survivor,completely devastated with grief, and it's up to him to carry the torch from his friends. I can just see the bishop crouching down by Marius in the empty cafe and singing.

"But remember this my brother

See in this some higher plan....

By the witness of the Martyrs

By the passion and the blood

God has raised you out of darkness

I have saved your soul for God."

And yes, I cried while writing this post. 

Trigger the Storm

I stand motionless in the kitchen

guess I'll make dinner

it has only been an hour since

I heard you were gone

But I am already tired and done

feeling

Shh I said as I watched myself sob and collapse

You know that spirit is forever.

Knowing didn't change the necessity of sobbing

It's okay I said as I cried after each phone call

I had to make

short, because I had no words to say

She's happier I said as I laughed

through my tears, thinking of how overjoyed she would be

when she found she was on the other side

She would miss those of us down here

but her life was right

and she would love being on the other side of it.

You would want me to make dinner

I think, scrubbing out the pots I will use

Even though you are dead, you

wouldn't want me to be hungry.

I cry again, the tears diluting and blurring my red sauce

I guess my pasta

needed a little more salt.

The apartment is quiet, because

there are no friends around.

They all sit and laugh at dinner tables with their families

Unaware of my pleading in their pockets.

Call me.

Their happiness is not a fault.

It is an assault to the grief I am feeling.

A reminder that life goes on and someday

I will be okay with that.

Now I sit, quiet again.

Simply waiting for the next word, the next thought that will again

trigger the storm.  

Macular Regenertation

They say that love is blind

and you can see that as

they walk hand in hand down the sidewalk

fingers gently crossed

with chipped polish and ratty hangnails

tarnished gold bands living there

smiling simply at the idea of being together.

a gentle nudge stops him at the curb

as they both wait patiently for the signal

the cars rush by and she comments on the colors

and he comments on the roar.

Her light and his chirp

inform them it's time for the next step

watch your step she says and he smiles

gratefully his cane hitting the curb

before he steps up and

as she narrates him through the bustle and

as he sweeps his cane in front of both their feet so

she too can have a clear path

you can see that

love is blind.  

Time is relative...

I believe there are some events in our lives that are so important, so emotional, that we feel echoes of them in our lives before they really happen. The feelings we have in those moments are so poignant, so important, that the emotions can not be contained in this single moment. They reverberate through time, giving us these feelings we experience before we even know why we should be feeling this way.

One day, I'm going to hold my baby son in my arms and tell him how much I missed him before he was born.

Demons

I'm very careful when I pack my backpack in the morning. Living so far from campus, I always want to make certain that I don't forget something, because there is no way I will have the time to go back and get it.

I remember my keys, my iPad, my textbook for that one class. I make sure I have enough pens, that my water bottle is filled, and that I have my latest assignment before going out the door. And I never forget my demons.

It's not that I want to bring them along; it's just that I can't seems to get through the day without them popping up somewhere.

I have a friend who I walk to school with. He's pretty quiet, and doesn't usually say much until I talk first. He's willing to talk. I just have to make the first move.

On our walks, though, we don't usually talk. It's nice to have time to be quiet, just to think for a little bit. I know my companion be there if I need help. 

He can see in my face that my backpack is heavy, but He doesn't comment. He knows I'm proud; that I want to carry it myself. I don't think I need any help. The demons crawl around, making more fuss than usual. I simply shake my head and keep walking. They've been more lively than usual for the last few months. I haven't been meaning to feed them; they just pick up stuff.

The next day, my backpack seems heavier than before. I mention this to my companion, just for the quiet conversation.

He says, "You know, it would easier if you let me help with that."

"I know." I shrug, "but I'm pretty sure I can handle it myself. I don't want to bug you."

His eyes show the hurt. "I want to help you."

"If it gets too hard, I'll ask for your help. But doing it myself makes me stronger. I know I will be able to handle heavier things if I can do this by my self." The demons scrabble angrily in my backpack, but I push them to the back of my mind. If I can ignore them, it's like they aren't there.

My companion nods, and we don't talk for the rest of the day.

For the next week or so, my companion and I don't talk very much. We exchange pleasantries, polite nothing's, because I am too busy trying to handle my demons to say anything meaningful. My companion seems to drift away, but I will reach out after I finish dealing with my demons.

My backpack gets heavier as the days wear on. I walk to school slower and slower, my companion slowing pace to walk beside me.

Today, I couldn't walk anymore. I dropped to my knees, demons bursting from my backpack to scrabble around my shoulders, screeching in my ears and sitting on my chest. I can't breathe. I can't ask for help. I'm stronger than this. But I can't breathe.

"Help," I whisper, the words barely passing my lips before they transform into a sob. I'm sure He can't hear me. The demons are too loud. There is too much.

But He hears me. Within an instant, he has swept the demons into His bag. The silence is deafening. I can hear the demons protesting from His bag, but He simply shoulders it and reaches up to help me off the ground.

"It's okay,"  He puts His arm around my shoulders. "I've got this one. You can go on now."

My Savior walks me to school, arm around my shoulder and carrying my demons. All I have to do is let Him.