Somebody Out There

In high school, I had my eyes set on two people: the nerdy boy who surprised me with how much I ended up liking him, and the cool boy who wiggled his way into my life and stayed.  I fell for these boys and they didn't fall for me too.  But I think I've written enough about those boys.

What I failed to see was the other boys who did fall.

The boy who watched me in class for four years.  I remember chatting with him every night on instant messenger.  He was the first one to message me when I signed on, the last one to say goodnight.  If I was bored and wanted someone to chat, he always responded.  He remembered details about me that I never expected anyone would.  I told him once that I loved the night sky.  It made me feel calm, at peace, like everything was bigger than me...an unfathomable thing that was so much bigger than we were.  For my birthday, he painted me the night sky so that I'd always have it.  I didn't appreciate it back then, and I really wish I had.

The other boy came from nowhere.  One day we're friends, the next we're flirting and going for ice cream.  The other day as I was cleaning out my drawers, I found a note he wrote me, scribbled on a piece of post-it note.  "You're stressed so we'll get desserts..."  It was sweet at the time and even sweeter now after all this time.  He saw me when I was broken but I was never able to open up and let him in.  I left him without an explanation, just left.

Which brings me to wonder why I was never able to fall for those boys back?  Why was I so preoccupied by other boys who didn't feel the same when there were these two gentleman waiting for me?

And now I'm sitting alone wondering if I'll ever fall in love.  I miss the opportunities and chase the closed doors.

I've spent countless time and energy making myself the best version of myself: to give someone all that I have.  I eat right and exercise because I want to always be able to do the things that my significant other wants to do.  I make an effort in how I look and dress because I want to be the girl that he'll be proud to present to the world as his.  I study hard and am building my career so give our relationship a good foundation.  And everyone likes a smart girl, right?  I skill myself in more things than my job and work on being a better person.  I want to make someone happy.

So where is this person who's right for me?  He's alive right now, at this very second, breathing.  Is he looking for me too?

Friends

"I don't have friends, I have people who like to be seen with me." - Juliette Barnes ("Nashville")

In September, she told me to be careful.  This guy sounds nice and all, but there's something off about the whole situation.

She was right.

He didn't care if I said "hello" or not, he just cared that I was able to help him.
And when I said "no", he left.

At first I was upset at myself for believing this kid.  But I'm not the one who did anything wrong.  Someone was kind to me and I was kind back.  I like to believe that everyone is genuine.  I want to see the good in people.  And I won't change that about myself.

So when I see him in the halls, I look at him and smile...and he can't look me in the eye.  And to me, this is wildly amusing.

In November, she told me to be careful.  These people seem nice and all, but I have something they want, and they can use me to get it.  I told her that I've heard this speech before but thanks for the warning.

This has become a constant paranoia.

I want to trust people and believe that they're talking to me because they want to.  But I can't fight the feeling that they don't actually care what I have to say.  I can't fight the feeling that they're going to use me and then leave me.

I'm a naturally shy and introverted person.  And this doesn't help.

I miss my real friends.  The ones who don't care what labels come after my name.  The ones who don't care what I'm doing.  I miss the people who hang out with me because they want to.  Because they like me for who I am, not what I can do for them.

I want friends, not people who like to be seen with me.

Visions of Love

He'll hold my hand in the winter time as we walk down the street.  Because his hand will keep me warmer than my jacket pockets.

He'll kiss my shoulders, just because he wants to be close to me.

He'll smile at me in the morning and not care that I look like a mess.

He'll laugh at my awkward dance moves when a good song comes on the radio.

He'll spin me in circles as we dance to no music at all.

He'll kiss my forehead because I'm too lazy to tippy toe up.

I'll feel his chest rise and fall at night.  Listen to the rhythm of his heart beating.

I'll stay up and listen to every rant he'll ever have.  And I'll always take his side.

I'll trust him on Friday nights when he leaves with the boys.

I'll make him breakfast in bed.

I'll be wildly enchanted by the way his face lights up when he talks about his passions.  His dreams.

I'll hold him when he's upset, because he's afraid to show it, but I'm not afraid to see it.

We'll weather every storm together.

We'll celebrate together.

We'll laugh together.  At each other.  With each other.

We'll find a home in each other.  A comfort.  A happiness.

The thing about love.

"If it's between love and losing, or to never have known the feeling.
I still side with love."

Maybe it's just listening to Taylor Swift right now, or having a friend endlessly try to convince me to go out and do things.  Maybe it's the fact that I've been sitting in my room studying for the past month.

But I want to be fearless, and reckless, and live a live.

I want to meet the one gives me butterflies.  Who makes me smile.  Who makes me watch it begin again.

I want to know what love is all about.  The whole thing.  Not just a taste.

But the thing about love is that I have absolutely no control over any of it.  I just have to let go and watch it all happen.

Bright Lights

I took in the city lights.
Bright.
Magical.
Untouchable.
I stood twenty-six floors above the world.
And I saw my reflection in the glass.
This, I thought, this is what I dreamed of.
This is what I worked for.
And sitting in the passenger seat home,
I took one last glance at the city skyline.
Tall glass buildings.
Shiny stadium rooftops.
Lights.
I've been smiling all night.
A genuine smile.
Uncontrollable.
And I can still hardly believe it.
I'm not sweating the little stuff.
I'm not getting distracted from this moment.
I'm not building crazy expectations.
I'm taking in everything.
Step by step.
Minute by minute.
Taking in life.

Life's not always perfect, but when it is, my gosh, it's beautiful.

Like Ever

When I first heard "We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together", I didn't like it.  Very pop and mainstream.  Not country at all.  And it angered me that Taylor keeps calling herself a country artist when the sounds don't bring that "southern country comfort" that country music brings.  I was also mad that she called her album "RED" because that was Dia Frampton's album name and now she will be over shadowed by Taylor.

But the next day, I found myself singing Taylor's song.  And the day after that.

And despite all these technicalities of what is country music and album names, I still loved the song, and I still loved Taylor.

The video hit and I was confused and disappointed again.  As a filmmaker, I absolutely loved the concept of the video.  As a fan, I was disappointed at the chaos.

But then I watched Taylor in an interview talking about the song.  She said it's about that moment in a relationship where you stop caring about what he thinks of you.  You stop caring to try to fit his life.  You stop caring to make it work.  And I got it.  The song doesn't care about its genre or its fans.  The video doesn't care either.

And today, I stopped caring too.

Today, I set myself free from him.  And this is a powerful feeling.

I'm still going to be nice and genuine, because I care.  I can't help but care for people.  I like talking to people and being there for them.  But I don't care if he likes me.  I don't care how I look in front of him.  I don't care if he's texting when I'm doing something else.  I don't care if he chooses to be in my life or not.

So bring on the animal costumes and bring on the spoken song lyrics because we are never ever ever getting back together.  Like ever.

(hyperbole but the idea's there, haha)

The First Note

There's something calming about hearing your favourite song.  It's a sense of security.  Predictability.  Familiarity.  It brings a warm feeling inside.  A sense of being at peace.  The melody fills the otherwise silence or banging of war in your head.  You're transported to your first memory of hearing it.  You're transported to the most vivid memory of when you've heard it play.  You're hearing the voice you've been searching for.

There's also something calming about hearing a song from your favourite band or artist.  They don't know who you are or what they've done for you, but you still feel this incredible connection to them.  They personify a time in your life: an emotion, an event.  They become the one who's there when nobody else is.  You idolize their ability to save lives.  Their ability to live.  Their ability to be passionate.

And no matter who else, or what else, makes its way to your iPod.  No matter who else, or what else, gives you a sense of inner peace.  Nothing compares to that one song by that one artist.  Nothing compares to that feeling.  Nothing can take you to that place like that first note.  No matter how long its been since you've last listened to that band.  Despite choosing other albums to listen to.  You'll always come back.  And you'll be reminded once again of the power that music can have.

it goes on.

"In three words, I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on." - Robert Frost

And it really does.

Words

I'd like to start with an apology for the way I've been acting lately.  The truth of the matter is, I'm tired.  Between all the things I have to do and all the people asking me for favours, I'm tired.  So when you asked me to move my schedule for you, this was the one time I couldn't.  I wanted to, but I couldn't.  And I was upset that you put me in a position to feel guilty for not doing so.  But I was too tired to deal with it, so I didn't.  I stayed silent.

6:02

So we haven't talked in a week and now you're asking me if I want to change that.

Well, I'm not so sure anymore.

Where were you a week ago when I wanted to work this out?  When I wasn't too tired to fight for this?
Where were you a week ago, before I cried for you, before I realized exactly who we were?
Where were you a week ago before my life took off?

As much as it hurts to say it, I accepted the idea of not having you around anymore.  I was getting used to not hearing from you.  I was getting used to not knowing what you were up to, how your day was.  I learned to accept a new normal.  I've done it before and there's nothing in my way now of doing it again.

I hated who I was.  I hated that I was THAT girl with you.  I don't want to be THAT girl.  And I don't want you to be THAT guy.

I miss you.  I'll admit that.  But what about you?  Did you miss me too, or are you just bored again?

Is it worth it to try and figure out goodbye?  Is it worth it to try and get back what we had?  Is it worth it to just continue never knowing any of it all?

I guess either way, you're going to resent me.  You're going to hate me for the things I did and you're going to hate me for the things I didn't do.

So what if you were to tell me that we haven't talked in a week, is that something I might be interested in changing?