Where Do You See Yourself In Ten Years?

Have you ever wondered how long you'll get to live? When you will die? From what? Where?

I guess you could say I have.

Where do you see yourself in ten years? - One of the most commonly asked questions of any grade from elementary school to college. In elementary school it was usually something along the lines of, "I'm going to be going to high school with the big kids," or, "I'm going to have my own dog." Small, trivial things that wouldn't seem like big goals or even goals at all to anyone but a small child. In high school the answers changed from trivial to contemplative. They fell into the categories of general - "I see myself graduating college" - or specific - "I see myself in med school studying to become a neurosurgeon." The people around me always seem to have the biggest dreams. Finally, in college people really start to fear their own answers to that very same question. They start to become more unsure in their answers - with good reason. Some wish for a family, others wish for a fast-paced career. Most wish for lots of money.

The main point is, everyone gets asked that question more than once in their lifetime. Everyone around me always had interesting and insightful answers, no matter what age. I, however, seemed to fall into a category all my own.

When asked where I saw myself in ten years...I couldn't answer because I didn't know. I had no idea.

Everyone else had some idea - some plan. My mind can only see so far into the future before it stops making plans. I saw middle school, high school, college. I saw friends, boyfriends, part-times jobs. I saw myself eventually moving out and struggling into my own independence. I saw all of these things and I still see some, but after that point...somewhere along the line my future plans disappear. I can't see anything else. I can't see all of the plans that others seem to see for their own futures.

Why is it when I try to invision my future my mind is a blank. I don't see images of my house complete with husband and child. I don't see where I'm going to work and I don't see where I'm going to live. I see blackness where everyone else already sees a picture, prematurely painted.

I don't exactly know what this means.

I don't know if it's good that I take things one day at a time or bad that I haven't planned enough. I don't know if it will lead to my demise or if it will enhance my future in some odd way or another.

I don't know what ANY of it means.

I've always been curious about this. I always had some strange premonition that it meant I wouldn't live very long...like maybe the other kids had visions of their lives because they were actually going to occur one day.

Maybe my lack of insight into my own potential life meant there wasn't going to be one.

That seems scary but I don't see it that way. It's just something I've always considered...not as a bad thing necessarily. Just as an odd hunch or feeling. I wonder frequently if anyone else has felt this way. It just brings me back to something that always frightens me more than a little bit:

We, as people, have so many things that we have absolutely no way of ever finding out.

The things that scare me the most are the things no one will ever know.

Making the Best of a Bad Situation

Resolving conflict is like lifting the weight of the world off your shoulders. Everything that was dragging you down disappears and you can finally breathe. When something terrible is made better, everything seems better. That sigh of relief that escapes you when you can finally breathe - the next inhalation of air even seems cleaner.

If there is one thing that comes of a relationship after a serious problem it's purity. Whatever was bothering you is now solved and what follows is brand new. It's like a blanket of snow that's been stepped over too many times and then comes in reborn with the morning, filled and new.

What better time to make resolutions than the holidays and the beginning of a new year?
So my resolutions? As a whole: to fix my faults.

Individually, here is what I aim to do for me, for my relationship, and for the benefit of all the people that surround me daily:

1. Raise my self-esteem - Aside from making my life easier, it will also make me a lot less needy and is in perfect correlation with my next resolution...

2. Rid myself of my insecurities - Hopefully I can knock this out in the process of raising my self-esteem, or vise versa.

3. Do better in school - By reading more, studying harder, and actually showing an interest in learning I can offer more in conversation, and most likely just go farther with my life.

4. Be more positive - I plan to do this by surrounding myself with positive people; the people I want to be most like. This will make me more pleasant and probably be solved by all of my other resolutions.

And finally the last resolution, which can be achieved by first achieving those above...

5. Build up a better reputation for myself.

If I can do these things, I can continue to maintain that fresh blanket of snow and be happy and at peace with all that surrounds me.

Thank You

It seems as though this past month has been particularly hard for most of the people I know. While I'm glad I'm not the only one life is shitting on, I wouldn't wish the same for anyone else. Whatever higher power is out there, it really isn't happy with a lot of us lately for whatever reason. I can't go on to discuss everyone else's problems but I can explain my own. Some things are obviously harder than others - for example, my sister passing away. Then, there are more superficial stresses like finals, power outages, and other small annoyances. Either way it just seems to be one blow right after the next. Like today, I saw my dad cry hard for the first time in my entire life. Luckily my mom was there to comfort him because I don't think I would have known how and even if I had he wouldn't have accepted my help - he's too proud.

Needless to say, these past weeks have been hard and other disappointments haven't been making it any easier.

However, there has been one thing - or person rather - who has been extremely supportive and been my rock through this whole ordeal. He's been sweet, understanding, caring, and uncharacteristically cute and cuddly all for my benefit. I can't express how grateful I am to have him as my boyfriend and my best friend. He is unbelievable in every way and I am so lucky to have him in my life - especially now. No one could have done a better job of comforting me and he continues to comfort me and love me everyday.

What's most important to me, though, is that he isn't too proud to apologize when he slips up. It seems like the more time goes on, less and less people are humble enough to say "sorry".

He is my everything; the love of my life, my support system, my protector, my personal heater, my best friend, and my favorite person in the whole world.

I love you, Justin. Thank you for everything.

I'm yours forever<3

Loss

It's a shame what it sometimes takes to bring people together (Or me back to my blog). I know my family is not the only family out there who can go months and months at a time without ever contacting each other. We make the occasional phone call or send a spontaneous Facebook message, but that's about all the contact we make until the holidays roll around. Even then, sometimes our communication remains electronic.

Recently, however, one entire side of my family has been together and in contact everyday for about two weeks. This sounds like an amazing reunion - How lovely it is to be around the ones you love. Except one detail is missing...Why this abrupt rush to rebuild bridges that have long since been burned? Why suddenly latch on to those we haven't connected to in years? Number one answer?
An emergency.

Nothing will bring a family of strangers together faster than the loss of one.

Since my sister was admitted to the hospital on November 14th I've watched different members of my family suffering various stages of grief. My dad is constantly angry; he's broken a good number of things in our home. In my opinion he just wants everything to look as bad as he feels - broken. My other sister feels guilty and blames herself that she didn't do more to help. My mom shows faint signs of depression.

I'm in denial.

While everyone else seems to have gotten past that most damaging first stage, I am unable. Since I didn't see her very often it's as if she hasn't left us. She's just minding her own business as usual. I feel like come Christmas Eve she'll come visit for a bit and celebrate her 37th birthday with us like she would have if the fates had chosen differently. As it is, she is forever frozen a kind, funny, beautiful, thoughtful 36.

Aside from all the grief and pain her surviving family feels as a result of her untimely passing, I believe she is in a better place. She's even better off than the rest of us. While we're still chained to Earth dealing with daily problems and harsh realities, she's in a place where there is no pain and there are never problems. When she passed, I'd like to believe she reunited with all her loved ones long since past. She deserves only the best and I know wherever she is she's receiving it.

She will always live on in our hearts and our minds as a wonderful sister, a loving daughter, and a laugh riot...and now she's an angel. I bet she's making everyone laugh wherever she is - Her smile always lit up everyone's day. Her kindness was her biggest contribution to this Earth. I will love you, remember you, talk of you and miss you until the day I die.

You will always live on in all of our hearts. We love you.



Heather Lynn Slayback

December 24, 1974 - November 21, 2011

Teach Me How to Hide

Someone please tell me how one can come off as happy all the time? I used to know how. I could hide what I was feeling and be happy all the time on the outside. That got broken sometime last year and now I can't get it back. I need it back. I feel like I'm losing the person I love and want to keep and it's because my selfish ass can't figure out a way to be happy for him no matter how much I try and how much I want to.

I feel like I just set myself up to get broken all over again. I'm scared and I don't want to go through that again. Loving people is the shittiest thing human's were given the ability to do. Nothing good comes of it. Not for people like me at least...or so it would seem.

I need to at least be able to fake happy. I need to control what emotions I hide and which I let come to the surface. I need to learn that ability over again. I used to be so good at it. I need to be amazing at it again or I'll lose the person who makes everything better. I'll lose the person that makes me happy for real...

I just can't have that...not again.

Couldn't Have Said It Better Myself

Due to my complete lack of friends, and the fact that the friends I keep do, in fact, happen to have lives, I've spent the last two nights inside watching movies and reading. Upon finishing my most recent book, Identical by Ellen Hopkins, I came upon an excerpt of her upcoming book, Perfect. While reading the several page teaser, I couldn't stop thinking about the first page. As my eyes continued to read on, my mind still stayed focused on the beginning lines of the awaited novel. It spoke of perfection and questioned why we try to reach something undefinable and therefore unattainable. I have tried to describe this path of pondering in my own words before but could never quite get it right. I couldn't quite bring it to light in a way that other people could relate to and understand. That's why I was completely amazed after reading this single passage. It said everything I've ever thought about perfection, only better.

It read:

"How
do you define a word without
concrete meaning? To each
his own, the saying goes, so
why
push to attain an ideal
state of being that no two
random people will agree is
where
you want to be? Faultless.
Finished. Incomparable. People
can never be these, and anyway,
when
did creating a flawless facade
become a more vital goal
than learning to love the person
who
lives inside your skin?
The outside belongs to others.
Only you should decide for you -
what
is perfect."

Ironically enough, that excerpt perfected my entire, life-long thought process on perfection. Figures.

So, About Those Delusions...

It's going to seem like all I talk about is the concepts of delusions and being deluded but reality is something that I constantly question. Reality and happiness. Happiness and reality. Are they the same thing? Are they not? Could they ever be? If you force yourself to be happy will it be the reality or will you just be deluding yourself?

Anyone who knows someone who is depressed or just a negative person has heard them get spoon fed the advice to "stay/think/be positive". Anyone who is generally sad or apathetic has been given that advice until they were about ready to ball it all up and throw it out a fucking window - this I know. But what if you follow their guidance and actually strive to be positive. Will you ever really BE positive? Will the positive mental attitude itself be enough to transform your whole personality. Will your outlook on life suddenly be brighter or will you just be faking your way through life? Will your entire outward persona be a lie?

I've been fighting so hard to be a "happy person". I'm doing it for my friends, I'm doing it for my boyfriend, and I'm doing it for me. It's just so hard. I feel like I'm on my way to convincing myself but at the same time I feel as though I'm betraying who I am. Whether the real me is enthusiastic and positive or somber and despairing I want to be true to that person. I can't stand fake people. I strongly believe that people should be proud of who they are and project their true colors. Am I lying when I fight to be happy even though I know I'm not?

Living in a State of Delusion

What happens when you lie to yourself so repeatedly that you actually start to believe it? What exactly switches in someone's brain to take them from complete clarity to delusion? Is it an involuntary defense mechanism that's triggered when someone can't take the strain of responsibility? Or is it completely voluntary - a learned skill to save one from hating themselves?

I have told lies, but who hasn't? They're usually small, the sort of lies you tell as to not hurt someone's feelings. You wouldn't tell someone you loved they looked hideous even if they did. That is unless maybe you were going out and you didn't want them to be embarrassed or something. Just white lies like those fill everyone's day. It doesn't make you a pathological liar. So what does? Would believing your own lies make you a diagnosed pathological liar or would that just make you mentally unwell?

There have been times I've lied or made excuses for myself about various things in life more than once. On top of that, a few of those times, I've told myself and others the same lie so many times that I don't remember what the truth was in the first place. If that wasn't sick enough, it made me feel so much better believing that I had, in fact, done no wrong (when in the definite reality I had). So do other people do this or should I be concerned?

Would this make me a good liar or would this make me gullible? Could I be both at the same time? I feel like a walking contradiction; one big, fat, living, breathing oxymoron. Given, I haven't lied to that extent all this year. Last year might have been another story but, when it comes to last year, my mind has been diligently working away, sorting what to keep and what to toss out like yesterday's news. However, the lies I've told in the past, the ones I've accepted as true, remain in a dream-like state whenever they cross my mind. By living the truth and then forcing myself to believe a lie it almost seems as if the whole event was fabricated; as if I might have dreamt it or experienced it in another life.

I feel as though my thoughts are odd and unorthodox, like there aren't many people out there who would formulate these types of inquiries on their own. They might be interested and begin to ponder after someone ignites their thought process for them (i.e. reading my own questions), but I don't know if they'd ask these questions all on their own. I feel as though my philosophical side is quite a bit outside of the perimeter of the metaphorical "box". Then again, I often feel like I ask too many questions all together.

I'll be asking questions like these all my life. I can't seem to turn that part of my brain off, so I suppose it's destined to remain on until nature and the aging process turn it off for me.

To: Mrs. Lee

It's crucial when growing up to have someone you feel comfortable speaking to, whether it's for advice or just an intellectual conversation. Personally, I have different people I go to for various topics of conversation. I go to my mom for help with boys (generally) among other things, I go to my dad when I need a pick-me-up, and I go to my friends when I'm sad. Today, I found that I have a new person to go to. Someone who can relate to me on a personal level and who appreciates what I think and feel on a day to day basis. She not only acknowledges my thoughts and feelings but my intelligence and way of expression.

I know there is a very good chance she will read this but that is far from why I chose to write it. Her appreciation of what I do and what I go through inspires me further. Just by telling me she takes time out of her day to read what I have to say she fuels me to write more.

I write this blog because most of the time my thoughts sound exactly the way I spill them out on here. Virtually everything I think would come out far too stuck up, not to mention inappropriate, for everyday conversation. These words I convey to the world via Blogger wouldn't even fit appropriately into an intellectual conversation with someone my age. I sometimes feel as though I have no one to talk to about my innermost thoughts merely because they would sound bogus coming out of my mouth. They sound so much more appropriate written somewhere than said aloud. I was afraid that this would be the only way I'd ever have to say what I literally have physical urges to communicate. It took really getting to know my English teacher on a personal level to realize I could converse with a live person the way I do with anonymous online readers.

I'm sure it's no coincidence that the teacher I relate to most is, in fact, an English teacher, but it's just such a relief to know that there are people with logic similar to my own. I feel great relief in knowing there are other people who ponder open-ended questions and try to decode life's mysteries or even their own mysteries on their own time. It's surprising that at eighteen years old I am just first meeting someone who is like me in that way, but at least I can say I know one.

Mrs. Lee, if you do read this I wanted to say thank you for the thousandth time. I know I say thank you often, but I don't consider it repeating myself. Every time I say it, it's for something new that I've realized you've done for me or made me realize. Thank you for treating me like a person and not a student. Thank you for taking class time to talk to me about the blog I wrote the night before and your take on it. Thank you for encouraging me to write more, because it truly is what I love to do. I have many things I'd love to know your thoughts on and I love to hear your stories, so I very much hope I can stay in touch with you after I graduate. If it's only through my blog, so be it. You are an amazing teacher and an amazing human being.

Thank you.

"Nothing That is So is So"

This was one part of an English assignment I am in the middle of working on. For our English final we were asked to write a few papers, each one on a different quote from any of the books, plays, or poems we read this year. This is my second paper and one of my favorite quotes.

Anyone who knows the tale of Shakespeare's “Twelfth Night” knows that it is one of great deception and disguises. Everyone has their secrets and some go to unbelievable lengths to hide them. Upon his arrival to Illyria, Viola's brother, Sebastian, encounters the town jester, Feste. Feste rambles to Sebastian in his riddles and rhymes but offers one genuine warning in the end. He cautions, “Nothing that is so is so” (IV. ii. 9). While extremely vague and somewhat confusing, it is also intensely accurate. Within the play, as in life, nothing is as it seems. The man everyone already believes to be Sebastian is in fact Viola, Viola is secretly in love with Orsino, and the wisest man in town is labeled a fool. It is ironic indeed that the advice given by a “fool” could be so immensely insightful.

It is engraved in toddlers and young children everyday not to “judge a book by its cover”, because not everyone is as they appear. Likewise, all young adults are advised to be cautious, as to keep from getting scammed or ripped off. All of these types of warning are telling people to beware, for “nothing that is so is so.” For example, the way someone dresses does not automatically determine their inner beauty, or lack thereof. Furthermore, what seems to be a lovely, perfect family on the outside is more than likely to have cracks in its foundation. Everyone has things they hide behind their eyes. That's exactly why nobody should judge another based on their exterior; things are almost never the same from the outside looking in.

Though I may seem easy to read, there's something that tells me that no one could guess what my life is like just by looking at me. I'm surrounded by people everyday that assume I wouldn't have a care in the world. I'm sure there are those who come across my somewhat disturbing posts online and just assume I'm exaggerating a broken nail or an idiotic argument with a friend or boyfriend. That's how most people judge, without taking the other person's private life into consideration. I for one project very little of my inner self to those around me. When I go out I'm always with someone, usually smiling. It's that person that everyone else assumes I am inside and out. Would they guess my family was torn apart? Would they guess what my parents are like behind closed doors? I highly doubt they'd even take a second to consider it a possibility.

People talk trash all the time and never think twice about what their subject of abuse is going through from day to day. When I was younger I would get ostracized for what a wore and how different I was. The children who teased didn't know any better but the teachers weren't any help. Teacher's would complain to my parents about my lack of participation and once a teacher humiliated me in the fourth grade by making me a megaphone out of construction paper and ordering me to use it when I spoke. Did they consider what I dealt with outside of school? Did they take into account that maybe I was used to being quiet because of all the things I was told to keep a secret at home? No, I'm guessing they didn't. I was a little girl being thrown around in a custody battle who decided to dress differently and play make believe at school to escape. I got made fun of for it because everyone just assumed I was on the inside how I was acting on the outside: like a weird, outcast little kid. As I got older I was judged some more from how I would act with my friends. I would hug and jump on my friends whether they were guys or girls. I got called rude names for giving so much attention to my guy friends. None of the heartless kids at school considered it might be because I felt a desperate need for affection. No one thinks before they act. Nothing that is so is so.

No child and no adult should be treated with disregard for their feelings and personal lives. I am a blonde cheerleader and often get degraded for being a “dumb blonde” or the stereotypical cheerleader with nothing to show but a short skirt. However, I'm also going to be studying to become a journalist. This “promiscuous, dumb cheerleader” has a passion for writing and a passion for photography. I have skills and knowledge and unbearable memories. I have a past many people feel sorry for and I sometimes find myself feeling sorry as well, but that doesn't stop me. I cannot be defined by a stereotype because I am an individual and everything inside of me is genuine. It is no wonder we're taught to never judge a book by its cover. Books hold thousands upon thousands of words that could never be summed up in the small spaces it takes to bind them. People are no different.

Obsession

What exactly is an obsessive personality? Is it the same as an addictive personality? How does one become obsessive and why? When? Is there a specific time or situation in which someone becomes easily obsessed? If there is, I am in that time of my life. If not, I suppose that would put me under the category of an "obsessive personality".

Obsessive personality: "A type of personality characterized by the manifestation of a rigid, pervasive pattern of perfectionism and inflexibility as the individual strives persistently for obvious unattainable and implausible goals, to the point that the actual completion of tasks and projects are frequently interfered by such behavior."

So basically, someone with this "disorder" becomes engrossed with one or multiple goals, goes to great lengths to do everything humanly possible to achieve them, and their undying efforts are so intense they only get in the way of their success.

Now, I'm no doctor but I'm going to go out on a limb here with a self-diagnosis. I don't believe I am getting in my own way all the time, though sometimes I am, but I have been getting rather attached to things, people, and activities as of late.

The most obvious of these current "obsessions" would be the ridiculous amount of effort I'm putting into keeping my relationship. That is also where I see myself getting in my own way. While trying to make sure everything is perfect I make myself seem demanding, controlling and bitchy. That isn't me. I try to express my feelings hoping to improve the relationship and end up getting into some kind of argument because of my temper. When I see activities or behavior that might be detrimental to our relationship it makes my temper even shorter and I end up ruining what I was trying to fix.

I could go into intricate details about this "disorder" and my connection to it and that specific example, but that would go on forever.

All I ask is: How do I fix this glitch in my personality? How do I rid myself of the insecurity that causes this irrational and unnecessary behavior?

Help me fix myself. I need these things I'm striving to keep to remain stable.

"Sleep-Talking"

Sleep is a curious concept, for no one knows what happens after they close their eyes and their subconscious takes over. No one can tell time when they're asleep, no one can control their body movement or functions when they're asleep, and very few can control their thoughts when they're asleep. Those who can are referred to as “lucid dreamers”, but that's a separate topic entirely. My point is, when one is asleep, they are no longer in control. So are we still ourselves when we're asleep? Is the subconscious mind of the same personality as the waking mind?

Yesterday, my English teacher was entertaining the class (as she does most days at the beginning of the period) with some funny stories about her recent activity outside the classroom. The stories tend to revolve around poking fun at herself in some way or another, whether it be about how clumsy she is or how pessimistic she can be. Yesterday, however, the story wasn't even about something she thought or did voluntarily. She told us all about how she used to talk in her sleep as a child. Though she thought she had grown out of it, her husband had recently told her she still did. Her involuntary comments would cover a wide range of topics, from a practical question like, “Did you buy my grapefruit?” to a completely irrational one like, “What do you think you are?!”

As the class started to laugh she went on, telling us all that it got even better, or as she referred to the experience: scarier. She said since her husband's main goal in life was to make fun of her until she reached the verge of tears, that she was quite skeptical and didn't quite know if she believed what he was telling her about her “sleep-conversations”. He then told her if she didn't believe him, he would be more than happy to record it for her next time she became talkative in the middle of the night.

Just as he had promised, the next time she became unconsciously vocal he recorded it on his iPad. The next day he showed her and she was frightened by what she heard. In her sleep she had sat up, and when her spouse had asked her what was wrong she replied, “Everything is bad.” She then went on to say, “It hurts.” When he asked her what hurt she had said that bones hurt. Curious, as I'm sure he was, he further inquired, “Who's bones hurt?” This entire time he claims her eyes had been closed and she had been talking in a low, tired voice, common of the unconscious. However, as soon as he asked that question he claims her eyes opened and her low voice lowered still to whisper, “Everyone's bones.”

She was extremely freaked out by this point and wondered why she had gone all “Children of the Corn” as she referred to it. Everyone in the class was laughing hysterically at her personal horror story and I was among them. It did make me wonder, though: Is everyone the same person when they're asleep that they are when they're awake? It sounds ludicrous to suggest that some other spirit or what-have-you could inhibit your body in your sleep, but what if that was the case? What if your slumbering body served as a terminal for those in the afterlife? I'm very open-minded and extremely intrigued by the thought of the supernatural. It is said that spirits can wander the earth, suspended in the afterlife; held there by some unfinished business. What if our sleeping bodies are how they try to convey the message they need to get across to move on? What if that is what sleep-talking really is – a message from a desperate spirit trying to cross over?

That's just an abstract thought. On a more practical (logical, if you will) note, it could just be our troubled minds freeing our conscience by spilling the things we keep pent up when we're conscious.

It's just as plausible, if not more so. Our teacher went on to tell us how she used to tell the truth in her sleep as a child. For example, if she had done something wrong and didn't fess up when she was awake, her family could easily ask her if she was guilty while she was asleep and she would answer in complete honesty. That supports the theory that sleep-talking is just the lack of control in filtering one's inner thoughts, especially when they are causing one stress or guilt.

In my unbiased opinion, it could go either way. However, it would be much less interesting if it were merely the latter explanation.

What do you think?

Drunken Babbling

So, I definitely wrote all of this last night when I got home but Blogger decided to shit out on me when I finally decided to write something. Awesome.

Anyways, here you go:

If there is one word I could use to describe myself under the influence, it would be impressionable. Like I stated in my last post, I'm opinionated and I am an individual, but I can be extremely impressionable. This is most evident when I've been drinking. If someone says something mean to me, I'll immediately start bawling. If someone kisses me, I'll kiss back. If someone plays me dark music, I'll want to be dark with it. Everything I hear, everything I see, whatever affects me makes me who I am at the time. If that makes any sense. My senses and what they conceive mold my inebriated mind.

My mom always tells me I shouldn't drink. She tells me my long history of alcoholism and my predisposition to an addictive personality will cause me severe problems in the future if I'm not careful. So far, I see no problem. I'm fine....So far. I do take what she says into consideration but I don't drink very much... At least not anymore. After last summer I've learned the art of moderation. Now it's only beer or wine. Something to take the edge off, or just to have some fun in some environments. Either way, I promise that I'm fine and I truly believe that. I would hope my mom believes me, too. Even more importantly, I hope it stays that way. I would never want to be dangerous and I would never want to hurt anyone that I love the way some of my loved ones have hurt me before. Anytime that happens, I still love them the same, just as I know they'd love me the same. That doesn't matter, though. I would never want to hurt them regardless.

To be honest, I don't really know where I was going with this. It's just more babbling of the intoxicated mind. Funny really, that the intoxicated mind would choose to write on the topic of intoxication itself...Anyways, I hope this was some insight for anyone who cares as to what I think and feel when influenced...

Until next time...

Destructive Behavior

While being opinionated and having my own unique way of thinking, I am extremely impressionable. Unfortunately, I don't choose the people I surround myself with based on whether the qualities they have will be good for me or bad for me. I never think of someone's possible influence on me before I befriend them. I just choose to be around those people I like, despite their problems or vices.

The pattern I've noticed, however, is that when I finally realize how unhealthy one person's influence has been on me and I move on, instead of finding someone more suitable to replace them, I just find someone with a different death wish. If it's not one irresponsible pleasure, it's another.

I found a guy and fell in love. He ended up a druggie and I finally wised up and realized I shouldn't waste my time with someone who could eventually turn me onto such dirty habits. I then started seeing someone with self-infliction issues. Since I can relate, it's needless to say just how counterproductive that relationship was for my psyche. After essentially combing that bad habit out of the seemling endless line of influential people I've met, I finally reach the point I'm at now. The person I am around the most doesn't do drugs and doesn't blatantly hurt himself, but I've noticed recently his lifestyle is no more safe or sane than the other two.

If I had to give it a name, I'd say it could be called Chronic Partying.

While I trust him fully, it's difficult to be with someone who always wants to go out and drink when all I want to do is stay inside. Given, I'd never keep him from doing what he wanted, so of course I encourage him to go and have fun. That isn't what gets to me. I've realized what bothers me is when I get drunk texts or calls and I have to realize that that altered mind, my boyfriend's altered mind, is off somewhere else without me.

That isn't even the main thing that bothers me, still. I can't completely explain what bothers me. It could be repressed memories or flashbacks or what have you. Whatever the case, being around anyone with any sort of destructive behavior brings out the depression and destructive behavior inside of me. If I see people I care about doing things to hurt themselves it makes me want to do the same to myself. When they hurt themselves they hurt me, whether they mean to or not, consequently making me want to hurt myself.

The first "issue" I associated with is long gone, but the other two I still enjoy and want to be around. In fact that's an understatement. It's likely I'd be devestated without them...

The irony of the saying "Can't live with them, can't live without them" is absolutely killing me right now.

I don't know what to do.

Look Into My Mind

What if living took effort? I'm not talking about making a living or surviving. I'm talking about simply being alive. What if it was a task? Some people might be dramatic and say that yes, in fact it is, but that's an exaggeration; it's speaking figuratively.

I'm literally asking (rhetorically of course): What if breathing wasn't an involuntary act of the body? What if you had to think about every beat of your heart to stay alive?

How many people would die of laziness?

So many people are so lazy with so many things. It would almost be appropriate for the heart to have to be worked manually. That way those who didn't care enough to try would quickly be eliminated. It would save space, save resources, conserve energy, conserve air...

Is that being insensitive or practical? All those lazy people...what are they really doing? Wasting a life. If it really came down to it and their lives depended on them showing effort would they step up? If not it would be only fair for them to die out.

All in all, if every breath you took took conscious effort, would you live or would you die? Those folks who take life for granted would be eliminated simply through evolution and the people who really value life would remain.

It might not be such a bad thing...

Just a random thought I had today.

I'm Scared

I've found something in my life that makes me happy again. The fact that the happiness I've found is in another person is even more mind-blowing. Usually the sanctuaries I find are hobbies not involving others (i.e. music, writing, this blog...).

It takes someone amazing to even make it onto the list of things that put me in a good mood or help me escape from my problems, let alone top that list. Somehow, for whatever reason, I've managed to find someone who tops that list. He makes me feel the way I was afraid I would never get to feel again. His affection turns me into a complete cliche. I fall asleep thinking of him and text him first thing when I wake up and all I want to do is see him. All that gushy stuff that new couples write about each other. However, for someone who's been hurt and turned into a complete and utter skeptic, this isn't normal behavior anymore (as I mentioned in a post a couple days back).

Now, here's why I'm afraid:

What if it doesn't work out?

I'm in too deep now to get out. I've let my guards down too soon. I've trusted again when everything in me was telling me not to. Now that it's too late, I'm starting to worry. What if it was a mistake? Not on my part, of course. I know exactly what I want. This, what I have, is more than I could have asked for; it is everything I want...but what about him? What if he decides to change his mind, or what if he gets fed up with me and my closet full of skeletons and endless emotional baggage?

We've already had a few arguments. They've been the same both times, but they scare the hell out of me because after only two months I already know I'm in no shape to lose him.

This is what I really hate about myself. When I find someone I care this much about I deposit all of my happiness into them. All of my positive thoughts and feelings are anchored to that person. If they leave, so does my elated outlook on life.

"Oh, you've decided you don't want to be with me? Well, have fun with my optimism, you joy-stealer." But that's just the thing...I can't even blame the other party. It is completely my fault for getting so emotionally invested in another person.

If there is anything I've learned that's of any value in these past months, it's not to trust anyone, and here I've gone and broken my own rule. I've made myself vulnerable again.

Bottom line?

I'm fucked.

Let's Try a Poem

It isn't much of a poem, more of a stream of consciousness written more rhythmically than the majority of my posts. I haven't tried my hand at poems since junior high, so I thought I'd let my mind takeover and see where it would go.

This is where it went:

Sleeping, silent pleading,
Falling down.
Nothing now.
Ballet shoes, perfect point.
Loss of balance on the stage.
One false move...
Nothing now.
More mistakes,
Twirling 'round in a
d
o
w
n
w
a
r
d
spiral.
Nothing new.
No one there for support.
Face in my own hands.
Then the touch of someone else's...
Digits of trust and security
Wrap around my weakness,
Lifting me like puppet strings;
They bring me back on point.
Loyalty:
The backbone to my recovery.


I'm not a huge fan of my poetry, which is why I mainly stick to stream of consciousness written in prose instead.
Today was just a little different. It isn't very good and it most certainly isn't my best or anywhere near it, but it's always interesting to see just what comes out when my waking mind shuts down and I leave the controls to my subconscious.

Change Is Good...Right?

When you've been with something for so long you can't help but become accustom to it. The way it feels, the way it smells, the way it tastes, the way it sounds, the way it makes you feel. When it leaves, all of those things you've become accustom to are just constant, upsetting reminders of what you had and the fact that you no longer have it. Whether the loss is good or bad the longing for the past is the same.

For me, what I lost, I lost for the best and what I gained was even better.

There was only one problem with the exchange...
When what I had went out the window, so did my innocence.
No more am I willing to give myself so whole-heartedly to someone else.
I would never be so naive again.

The change is evident.

I'm just as happy as I ever was before.
I have more self-respect, better self-esteem...
But I'm so much more cautious.
It keeps me from opening up the same way I did before which keeps me from loving the way I had in the past...Which ultimately adds up to the conclusion that I can't be as carefree...as head-over-heels, "I don't care what happens as long as I'm with you" in love.

What if what I have will never be what I had?

Should that even be an issue? All things considered, what I had was all a giant fabrication I'd made up in my own mind. Nothing was as it seemed and in the end "what I had" was what I wished I had, not the reality.

That makes what I have already ten times better than what I had, right?

I wish I could back-track. I wish I could just say, "Fuck it, you can have it. You can have all of it." I wish I could give myself away again.

It felt better that way.

As the saying goes, "It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all." I can agree. I got hurt, but what I felt was the best thing I'd EVER felt. It was enough to build me up and it was enough to break me down. It was enough to get me through my hardest times and it was enough to put me through even harder times.

By the same token, I can disagree. I wish I would have never loved at all. Then I'd have a chance to do it again...to do it right. I'd have a chance to give my boyfriend all of me. I could offer him my happiness and my sadness...but I can't. My happiness was taken away from me and the naive, positive girl I used to be was kidnapped the same day.

He can't have what I was and for that I am sorry.

...but he can have all that I am and hopefully that will be enough.

Death Scares Me

Now, I've been known to have some disturbing thoughts lying down to bed at night. The times when my body is exhausted and my mind is racing and I have no other option but to lie there and listen to it; hear it whir to life and be forced to face it...to face all the thoughts that scare and intrigue me. So, to ensure my sanity, I make a mental note to write it all down later in hopes of clearing my psyche come morning.

The thoughts start out simple. One word or phrase. Then, they expand as my mind takes over and my body is frozen, held hostage to my internal speculation. Once it starts there is no stopping it until it's run its course and finally, yet reluctantly, fizzled out.

Last night the phrase to kick start my involuntary contemplation was as follows:

Death scares me.

Not my death mind you, but the deaths of loved ones. My mother. My father. My sisters. The waking pain of it resonating everyday until I couldn't feel anymore.
That's what scares me.

Their death.
My pain.
I couldn't stand it.

There's so many pending questions regarding the death of a loved one, before and after the fact.

If one of my parents died:
When would I find out?
Who would tell me?
Where would I be when I heard the news?
Would I find them myself?
What would I do if I did?

How would I react on the spot?
Would I break down or be left in shock?

If I was left in shock:
When would the realizations flood me?

The comprehension that they would never see grandchildren.
That they wouldn't be at my wedding.
That I'd never see them again.
Never hug, kiss, or tell them I loved them.

What must that feel like...?
Could I live through it?
I don't know if I could.

As depressing and raw as they may be, those are the sometimes the kinds of thoughts I fall asleep to at night.

Welcome to my world.

All You Have To Do Is Ask

Anyone who knows me knows I couldn't hold a grudge against anyone.

Leave me.
Hurt me.
Disbelieve me.
Desert me.

Feed me lies.
Make me cry.

Criticize me.
Ostracize me.
Antagonize me.
Patronize me.
Apologize to me...and I'll forgive you.

It doesn't matter what they do. If a person asks for my forgiveness or wants to be on good terms with me, I will not deny them. I like to think of myself as peaceful and I like to give people the benefit of the doubt in hopes that they have changed or were actually decent to start.

Mostly, I'm wrong. I invest too much and I get hurt frequently.

I don't mind.

I will help anyone in need, if you've helped me or if you've wronged me. Everyone needs someone and if I need to be that someone, so be it. I've been in situations where I needed people who wouldn't be there for me and I wouldn't wish that feeling of solitude and abandonment on anyone.

If you need me, ask.
If you turn around the next day and tell me to jump off a cliff, that's fine.
If I helped you get through one more day, it was worth it.

Some things are bigger than disagreements and fights. I wish everyone could just get over it sometimes and be there for each other.

I'm willing to help anyone...so why isn't anyone willing to help me?

Something So Insane

How can I miss something so unnatural...so insane...so unsafe.

All this time I've been abstaining, hoping the urges would leave...but they haven't. So much time has passed and yet it's really been no time at all. I miss it. I hate it. I love it. I need it. I can stop it...but will I?

My Worst Nightmare

Before I begin, I would sincerely hope that others will be able to relate to this as opposed to thinking I'm some crazy bitch. I'm not a crazy bitch. :)

I'm usually a very peaceful person. I admit if someone does something cruel to me I am liable to throw some kind of fit, whether it be in the confines of my own home or in the other person's presence. That exception aside, I tend to be kind to everyone and I've learned to tolerate those who get on my nerves...until recently.

I've stumbled upon the one person I cannot tolerate. He's rude, he's ignorant, he's cocky, he's disrespectful, he's chauvinistic, he's lazy, he's arrogant and he's all around just an absolute moron. He embodies every quality I despise in human beings.

All he has to do is sit down next to me in class and I can feel my blood pressure shoot through the roof. The sound of his voice makes me want to punch him in the face. I am by no means a violent person on any normal occasion, but for whatever reason this kid gets to me.

I hear him typing at the computer next to me and even THAT makes me angry. He types with his fingers so heavy on the keyboard even the act of pressing on the proper letters seems like a task too challenging for his lazy ass. Then, on the off chance it aggravates me enough to shoot a glance his way and I see the things he's written on his monitor, every word is misspelled. The grammar is awful, the words are used in the wrong context, and there is complete lack of punctuation. Anyone who knows me knows that butchering the English language is enough to drive me insane.

Even when I don't have to deal with the sound of his lead fingers slowly punching out the misspelled words appearing on his monitor, he finds ways to irritate me to the point of digging my nails into the sides of my desk chair. There isn't a day when his iPod headphones aren't streaming from the hood of his jacket. Mid-lecture his music can be heard from rows of students away. I understand a love of music, but when it's disrupting someone else it's just rude. Headphones were invented so others wouldn't have to hear your shitty rap music.

That's another thing! When his typing has ceased and his music has been turned off he is constantly writing lyrics to made up raps. I understand chasing a dream, but it disrupts class, bothers everyone around him, and he's not even any good at it. He lacks the vocabulary to make decent rhymes and he copies rhythms from songs that are played daily by Kiis FM, Power 106, and Amp radio. No one wants to hear you muttering your amateur lyrics under your breath all period long.

Maybe now my disclaimer at the beginning of this giant, unwarranted rant makes some more sense. I honestly don't even know this person very well. We share a class and are forced to sit next to each other for an hour each day. I felt even more out of line about my feelings towards this guy until I asked my other classmates what they thought of him. I got similar, yet slightly less loathsome, reactions to mine. No one can stand the kid.

That gives me a little peace of mind, knowing that the problem lies more in him than it does in me, but I'm still appalled at how much I can dislike someone I don't even know. I suppose some people just don't mesh well together, and I must say, this tirade has helped calm me quite a bit so it can't be completely terrible...right?

Insecurities

I used to dwell on the past everyday at least once. These thoughts were sometimes negative, sometimes nostalgic, sometimes pondering, and all bittersweet. I find it ironic and painful that when I finally choose to let the past go, other people bring it back for me. My past mistakes. My past misfortunes. The skeletons in my closet. People from days gone by echo what I've said and done, informing and misinforming those close to me now. It's a giant game of "telephone", where one minor offense escalates to become four different major offenses, every one of which untrue.

My primary goal in life is to forget what history I've already written and what history has already been written for me and just move on. All things considered, I've done just that. The only problem is, others haven't. I've changed and I've become someone I've wanted to be: someone who accepts who they've been and is making a major effort to improve. Others either don't believe it, don't notice I've changed at all, or simply just don't care.

To all of those people: remember the proverb you were constantly being fed as a child, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."

If you're saying disrespectful things then I've put you on the outside for a reason, so stay there and out of my business. I'm trying to create a pleasant future and you don't hold a place in it. As for all of the people who never held a place in my life to begin with, I don't know why you're spreading my business anyways. I give you my sincerest apologies for being so bored with your lives, or even worse, so delusional and ignorant as to think you have nothing to focus on when it comes to improving yourselves. Go fix your flaws and stop exemplifying mine.

The person I have become deserves the respect that the person I was never gained. All of these rumors have gone around about me for as long as I can remember and they're just that: rumors. They are my biggest insecurity because hearing something you've "done" (almost all of which you HAVEN'T actually done or even come close to doing) is embarrassing and degrading and it makes me uncomfortable showing my face in public some days.

I want people to care about the person I am, not the person I was. I want to be praised for my improvements, not ostracized for my mistakes. More than anything, I want the people I surround myself with to be proud to say they're my friend/boyfriend/parent, not embarrassed to tell people they know me, let alone choose to spend time with me.

I am working to be accepted and I finally deserve to be respected.

Am I Good Enough?

We are our biggest critics. In comparison to living up to our own expectations, living up to someone else's expectations seems positively simple. Can we ever measure up to our own standards? Will we drive ourselves insane trying?

Self-satisfaction is the hardest thing a human being has to gain. So what happens when self-satisfaction revolves around satisfying someone else? Am I good enough for them? Am I good enough for myself? Could one have anything to do with the other?

I don't know if I'm good enough. In my own mind I see myself as nervous. I see myself as unsure. I see myself as pathetic. I see myself as insecure.

Can I reach who I want to be? Do I even know who I want to be?

When I figure it out can I surpass or even reach my own standards?

What about you?

Food for thought...

Words Cannot Describe

It's funny how something one hates and mocks one year can become something they adore the next. I always hated Valentine's day. I was one of those bitter lonely people who would refer to it as "Singles Awareness Day" and make fun of those who were being all mushy and stupid with their valentines.

This year I guess I got a taste of what it's like to be "mushy and stupid".

I'd prefer it any day of the week.

My Valentine's Day was amazing. I got up at five in the morning to go watch the sunrise with my valentine (who surprised me with chocolates and a rose) and then get coffee. From there, we went to Zuma beach for a couple hours just to spend the morning being lazy on the shore. The sand was warm, the air was crisp and the day at the beach was beautiful. After that, we went ice skating, and as much as said valentine tried to scare me and make me think I was going to fall on my ass, I really had fun. It was quite possibly the first time two indecisive people have ever made such a planned out day.

Who knew the right valentine, and now boyfriend, could make a day I used to hate a day I adored. Thank you, Justin. :)

I Am...

Just as an experiment I went to several of my friends asking them to give me one word or phrase they'd use to describe me. Besides a bit of background information I added in myself, this is what they came up with:

I am...

A senior in high school
A writer
An intellectual
A "people person"
A hopeless romantic
A book nerd
Agreeable
Indecisive
Cuddly
Genial
Philosophical
Silly
Passionate
Clumsy
Free-spirited
Caring
Spastic
Outgoing
Spontaneous
Compatible
Insecure
Impulsive
Perseverant
Unique
Eccentric
Insane
Finding myself.

Also, if anyone was wondering, spontaneous and spastic are the words I got the most. :P

There's That Happy Feeling Again...

Until recently I'd been pretty convinced that the term "crush" was to never be used again after you graduated junior high. Apparently, I was wrong. That amazing, "you make me happy and I just want to be around you" feeling still applies all through high school and, who knows, maybe even after.

I missed this feeling so much. It's been forever since I've been infatuated with someone new. It's fun and new and exciting and I'm having the best time. My current state of happiness is at the utmost and I can't seem to come down from cloud nine.

At the same time, what goes up must come down. So, there is a small part in the back of my mind where I'm worried to be this happy...like the higher you go the farther you have to fall, and the farther you fall the more it's going to hurt. I suppose that's overanalyzing and thinking too far ahead, but it's always better to be cautious.

I'm not being cautious. I'm loving it.

If that's wrong, fuck it. I'm not looking towards a destination, I'm just enjoying the ride.

How Does One Lose a Moment Frozen In Time?

A photograph is a curious thing.

People say a picture is worth a thousand words...But if that is the case, then why are the best pictures captured when no words need be spoken? You don't look at a picture of two people having a conversation in a park with bright eyes and big smiles and think too deeply about it. However, I'm sure that moment portrayed in that photograph DID, in fact, contain a thousand words or more.

It's a picture of a woman mourning, or of a newly married couple smiling at one another that really says the most. However, I see things like this and can't think of a single proper word to describe it. So, how could it be worth so many as a thousand? I don't believe a picture is worth a thousand words so much as a single emotion or deep feeling.

Don't get me wrong, I realize this is merely a figure of speech. That isn't the point I'm trying to argue. What I wonder is how I can see an old picture of myself and not be able to come up with any explanation as to how I could have looked or felt that way at that point in time.

All of this could be mindless babble that no one but myself can decipher, but I'm so ENDLESSLY curious to figure out what the key to happiness is. A mystery I'm sure the entire known universe is out to crack. It isn't just me...So maybe my psycho babble will make some odd sense to possible inquirers.

I saw a picture of myself the other day...a few in fact. My feelings as I scrolled through the album of smiles and kisses wasn't that of sadness, regret, or nostalgia. I wasn't remembering the time in which the photo was taken or the circumstances. All I could do as I sat their staring at the slightly younger reflection on the computer screen was wish desperately that I could remember what it felt to be that person.

The smile plastered on my face in every single photograph wasn't in fact plastered there at all...it was genuine. I was the epitome of pure joy and happiness. It was almost sickening...yet something I still long for.

I'm making my way there, don't get me wrong, but I know that I will never return to that same "genre", if you will, of happiness.

I wonder all the time...Where did that person go?

Two Years Went By So Fast

Anyone who knows me well would be expecting today to be a day of extreme emotional distress for me. However, rather than mourning the end of a good time, I'm spending my day being thankful for having had the experience. I am also thanking whatever higher powers are out there for opening my eyes to the stupidity of my depression and granting me the strength and wisdom to let go.

Two years ago today a boy who I'd been seeing for only a few short months asked me to be his girlfriend. Had we survived the test of time today would have been our anniversary. Some would be pretty bummed if they were in my shoes right now, but I'm not. There's nothing to be sad about really. It was just another chapter in my life, like any other. I was happy when times were good and sad when they weren't, but I'm not going to be upset that it's over. It ran it's intended course and it ended when it was supposed to.

As the saying goes, "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened."
So, I'm smiling. :)

With that, I wish everyone a very happy January 26th.

Is There Something Wrong?

I've had people telling me recently I seem down or different. Like despite my good mood and upbeat attitude there is something wrong there that they can't quite put their fingers on. I tell them time and time again, "No, nothing is wrong."

They continue to question me.

I'm starting to think: What if something is wrong? Could something be wrong within me that even I'm unaware of? What could possibly be upsetting me? Everything that would upset me, I've already come to terms with and I'm not upset anymore. Yet, people continue to question my well-being. If other people seem to be able to read me, why can't I read myself?

I feel completely fine. Happy, if not a little tired at times...and recently, frequently plagued with nasty headaches. Otherwise, I find nothing wrong, but people have me worrying now. What IS wrong? There must be something, right? If I'm giving off some kind of bad vibe, something can't be right...

How am I suppose to improve and get better when people are trying to convince me something is wrong all the time?

Maybe one day I'll be let in on my own problems. Who knows.

Wasted Efforts

Due to my constant need to fix everything I've set myself up for some very harsh reality checks. I'm slowly learning that no matter how hard I may try some efforts are futile. Some things are just beyond my control. Sometimes I can't right my wrongs and second chances aren't an option, but no matter how positive or friendly the dismissal is, the new sense of absence doesn't feel any less like abandonment.

Everyone has experienced what it's like to enjoy another's company. I would expect that if anyone were in jeopardy of losing that companionship, they'd fight to keep it. I suppose I expect that because it's what I do every time. I just wish it didn't occur so often; the fighting gets exhausting. Often, I succeed in maintaining the friendship and achieving the ultimate goal of not losing another person I care for. However, when I fail, I'm not quite sure what to do with myself. I end up feeling both hurt and vulnerable...and completely out of control.

So, I clean.

I clean everything.

It gives me a sense of order...but that's besides the point. Last night I failed again...another one left. I couldn't do anything to fix it.

My feelings of distress from last night carried over to this morning and I wish I could find order. I sit here not sure whether to feel abandoned or grateful for a selfless act.

How can I see the bigger pictures when I'm stuck feeling completely discarded?

What does one do when a friend they were trying so desperately to prove themselves to won't stick around to see and acknowledge their efforts?

All I wanted was to earn someone's faith in me. Now I can't.
So, I clean.

To Quote Katy Perry...

"Thought that I was the exception- I could rewrite your addiction. You could have been the greatest but you'd rather get wasted....Want to be your lover, not your fucking mother. Can't be your savior- I don't have the power. I'm not gonna stay and watch you circle the drain."

If there's one thing I've come to find throughout all of high school, it's that no one person can change another. Screw academics, the biggest lesson I've learned had nothing to do with school itself. No matter how hard you try or how much time you invest in another person, you're never going to change them. If they treat people like shit, you better love getting treated like shit or get the hell out of that relationship. If they decide they want to waste their lives on drugs, either you're going to get fucked up with them or tell them to fuck themselves, because there's no way they're going to stop for you.

I was in that exact situation. I wasted years keeping (or trying to keep) someone clean only to find out recently that all of that was for nothing. So, that finally sent me over the edge. All care I had for that person vanished and I dropped them out of my life and mind like a hot potato. I'm not wasting anymore time trying to do the impossible - Even if it means saving someone.

What I'm trying to say to everyone who thinks they're going to be the one to positively influence and change that troubled person they care for is: You're not going to, so don't waste your time. Especially if their trouble is any illegal substance. They're either going to A) lie to you, B) treat you like shit, C) both, D) die, or E) go to jail.

If you want that, go right ahead and be with them. Have fun.

If you don't believe me, knock yourself out trying to prove me wrong.

If you're intelligent, trust me.

What's With All the Nostalgia?!

If it's not one thing it's another. Can't I just be content in the position I'm in? The past is in the past and that's where it will always stay. I can't change that. No one can. Yet my heart longs for things that I can't bring back. Why?

I finally rid my heart and soul of that waste of a person and now they miss someone else. Almost everyday I have some odd flashback or another. There are songs that bring on the nostalgia that will randomly get stuck in my head, so I've downloaded them all in hopes of getting used to them. Maybe that way I can listen to them without seeing and hearing my summer in the back of my mind.

Confusing? Me? No.

Fuck my life? Yes.

I wish I could go back. WHY!? The past is the past. The past is the past! It's not coming back. I guess that's just another epiphany I suppose I'll have to wait for. It would be nice if it would hit me sooner this time around...

Being attracted to assholes...SO much fun.

I love sarcasm.

I need to be impressed again...I need to be treated well and respected. I'm trying my best and that would be an amazing reward for my self-improvement. I want a guy to old-school court me, being both respectful and patient and acting like a complete gentleman. That is what I want most. I want to be taken on a real date...I want chivalry. Being treated well is something I so long for and respond to very positively. That's all I really want...it isn't hard...it isn't asking all that much. It's all I want.

Why isn't there a single guy out there who can do that for me without completely fucking me over shortly after?

Define Playing With Fire.

Old friendships rekindled, new sparks ignited; who's to say playing with fire is bad? While some are arsonphobic, others are pyromaniacs. Could this be yet another matter of opinion? The word "playing" would imply that the act of it was fun. However, the fire itself is typically seen as dangerous. All this adds up to the conclusion that one who "plays with fire" is an adrenaline junkie...a risk taker.

After a short-lived yet drama-filled relationship with a former friend, I've currently become closer with him again. For me there was never a problem. The problem arose from matters of his own heart and mind. So, he ran away from it...and from me. That action alone would put him under the "arsonphobic" category. His return, however, is most certainly the act of a pyromaniac.

In the sense of fire-play, there is no doubt he's walking a tightrope over a pit of flames. I would love to guarantee that he won't get burned, but when emotions take over not everyone knows how to keep from falling...

I would hope his balance has improved. If not, I guess we're both going down in flames.

Left With Nothing But Inquiries

After my long-awaited epiphany, I feel relieved and increasingly more optimistic. As nice as those feelings are, they've opened up a whole new world of questions locked inside my own mind. I don't know the answers or where to go in search of them. My mind is endlessly wondering new things everyday. I've always been that way, but now the subject matter has changed. Instead of the old, self-loathing inquiries I'd make daily, my thoughts are now open-ended questions of what is normal and what is okay.

Is it backtracking whenever I get nostalgic for something in the past? Does my recovery hang in the balance?
Does everyone else get flashbacks so strong it makes their whole body jolt?
How am I supposed to feel now?
What am I supposed to want?
Is the overwhelming desire for something new just another mistake I'm about to walk into?
What do I do?
Does anyone know?

I feel as though the last few questions are extremely vague...and yet everyone in this world knows what I feel and wonders the same things quite frequently. It makes me feel less abnormal, but how am I to know I'm right in that assumption?

Someone let me know I'm not alone in these thoughts, fears and inquiries.

Finally!

The epiphany finally hit me. My mind has finally processed the thought I've been mulling over for months. I knew this was the case from the beginning but didn't quite believe it until now. I don't miss him anymore. It's not him. He's a different person now and I don't want that person at all. I miss what we had...what we were, but by no means do I miss HIM.

God, the liberation is too much to explain in words. No more does the sound of a song throw me into hysterics. My world doesn't revolve around his sorry ass anymore. Now I do things to better myself, not in attempts of winning back his love...which, looking back, was never really enough for me anyways. I don't need him. I can do better.

This doesn't mean I don't still become sad or nostalgic, but I have in fact let go, and all the regret of leaving has fallen away. My decisions were correct all along. Had I stayed, I would have been the fool. Instead, I've left him with a new fool. I remembered how much I despise ignorance. By the time I realized that was a trait I had obtained over time, I also realized he wasn't worth all the knowledge and logic I normally have. I would never risk all that for someone who was worth my time, let alone someone who wasn't.

While I admit I am not completely cured, this is now the road to recovery. It feels better everyday, and I find myself with a completely different mindset. While still cynical, I've become slightly more optimistic. I'm more willing to help others now than to seek help myself. I'm looking forward to completely moving on and I can proudly say I've left all of the ignorance (and ignorant people) in my wake.

That being said, I hope to start writing more. I used to complain about my writer's block and lack of muse, but I'm hoping now that my brain isn't so foggy and cluttered with thoughts of that stupid boy I'll have more room to be inspired again.