Protected: You make me happy. February 17, 2011
Best Friend. February 16, 2011
How many people truly know the meaning out this? I know I do. Putting it to words could be rather difficult though. I don’t remember an exact day when I the words “best friend” first crossed my mind or even who they were in reference to.
Growing up, I felt like I had a strange curse. All of my “best friends” always left me with the exception of my best friend and cousin who has always been there in the background. There was Hailey, our neighbor that I grew up with. I was convinced that we would forever be together. She moved to the wretched land of Canada. All my other friends knew how close we were and consoled me. I soon met Catherine, a foster child who talked to me as I moped the exit of Hailey from my life. We became as close as we could be within a year’s time, but she too moved. Foster children always seems to be leaving. My next best friend was a girl that I still see everyday. We were close from the fourth grade to about sixth when our class schedules no longer matched up enough. This year, twelfth grade, is actually the first time that I’ve had a class with her since. I was left in middle school best-friend less. I finally found a new best friend in a boy in my math class. A boy that I lost quickly to his girlfriends to be (though, they are both close to me now, 4 years later.) It was around this point, in eight grade that I began to call my new neighbor my best friend. I had known her for about half a year. For almost all of the 5 years that I’ve known this girl, I’ve called her my best friend.
I have had exactly one person who I called best friend without hesitation, I could never see anything going wrong. Why? Because I saw nothing else but perfection in my best friend. When I say perfection, I don’t mean each action was perfectly good or that she did nothing wrong, far from that. I saw the perfect best friend according to my history. A best friend who would not leave me. A friend who I would maintain ties with my whole life, never lose to the corrosiveness of time. All I worried about was physical distance and not having enough time together. I forgot about the depth of out relationship, I forgot about the inevitable chaos that enters our lives.
I have such trouble saying these two words now, best friend. Why? Because my fatal flaw is my lack of the ability to forgive. Granted, I say I have forgiven. I have for the most part. I have forgiven my friend for her actions, for her choices. I have not forgiven her for teaching my a lesson about myself. I am not as independent as I like to think. I’m always looking for support. I think my little best-friend chronology shows that. I need people. I especially need her.
My mother came in for a second to show me a new shirt that she had bought and I asked her to stay. I told her about the awful day that my friend had gone through today. I told her about the things that she had to deal with. Alone, without me. I feel terrible, I hoped all day long that she would make plans with me. Now that I think about it, why would she? All that she wanted was to forget it all. It is the job of a “best friend” to deem it necessary to make plans and execute them when a friend is feeling down. My mother gave me one look and told me to stop worrying about it and to try to study. My mother has obviously never experienced the companionship of a best friend.
I have an awful headache right now that is making reading my government book to prepare for my test tomorrow almost impossible. I think sleep would be a better idea.
Advisment Musings February 9, 2011
I really don’t have much time to get anything worthwhile down, it’s the problem that I face every time that I have the urge to write. My notebooks are full of little paragraphs here and there of my nonsensical thoughts. I’ve been wanting to do an ins and outs for January, but I think we are a little too far into February for it to be acceptable to do so.
It’s February. The month of love. I just bought a “Crush Can” for my friend from her boyfriend. I think its cute. Lately, people have been hating Valentine’s Day. I’m sure this happens every year, but I’ve noticed it more this year, maybe because I don’t really want to buy anything for anyone. Being alone on Valentine’s day has never bothered me, I always have the love fo my friends. But this year, I’m still just trying to get back into feeling the love. Love haters are just so sour. I don’t like that I fall under the “sour people” category as of now.
I really do wonder where my life is going. In calculus, I’m constantly thinking about how I will not be able to survive the next four years without absorbing this vital information. I think that because I want an engineering degree AND a medical doctor degree. People tell me that I’m insane. I think I am too. I’m fairly terrible at Calculus (really only because I lack fundamental skills, I can talk you through a problem, I just can’t do it myself). It would save a lot of pain just to be a Pre-med Biology Major. Mercer would save a lot of pain. I’m still indifferent though — I won’t mind not being accepted to this program. I may still actually go to this college anyways, they have actual closets in their dorm rooms.
I might want to go into research, I might want to just be an engineer, I might want to get an MD and do Doctors Without Borders. I might want to do a lot with my life. I hope I do.
I think it might be time to start writing senior letters so my procrastination won’t get the best of me next month. I really only am counting the days of school that are left until spring break, after that it is just review and AP exams. 50 days.
Last year around this time, I met one of the closest people who exists to me. He was worried about the friends that he may lose due to the distance that he would be going away to college. I am too, I’m worried that I have invested too much time onto some people and not enough into others. Sure, I may be a little sad to lose friends that I will inevitably grow apart from, but I’ve enjoyed the time that I’ve spent with everyone. I’m worried about regretting things. I wish that I could live without them, but avoiding regret is what keeps the world rational. I don’t want to be lonely any more. The chain should come off the door.
Masks. February 8, 2011
Sadie’s is a masquerade theme, how fitting for a high school dance, a place where no one is actually themselves, just wearing masks pretending to be who everyone wants them to be. Then again, how fitting for life, this “putting on a mask” business is inescapable. Anyways, I don’t think I will be going to Sadie’s . I do not want to ask anyone. I don’t even want to go with friends. I just want to work or something.
Sometimes, when I have titles like this, I never actually post what I write. Just because I think that my ramblings don’t do the one word title justice. I’m fairly certain that this will be the case in the next 20 minutes as I fall asleep. I will ramble and ramble and forget why I even thought of writing in the first place. I will look again at the beginning to see if I had a topic sentence of some sort hint of what I should be getting at and will see the title again. I will see the single word that means so much that I have done nothing to define. I’ll think about how I haven’t posted anything in so long and feel the urge to click publish, but then I’ll realize that it doesn’t make a difference. I write for myself. Not for you to read. Once these words leave my head, I’ve done what I need to do, I’ve organized my cluttered mess of a mind.
But back to the one word title, Masks. I feel like I can’t take them off. It feels like if I don’t try, the mask that I’m wearing will become me (like its gonna melt into me and just never come off). I don’t want that to be so, not unless I like the mask. It makes sense to me, the way people act like nothing is wrong or whatever they may be willing to be true, eventually you just believe it. I’m not there yet though, I still remember that this is an act, it does not feel natural yet. Will it ever? I’ve shed the mask of makeup lately. I’ve tried to be more honest. I’ve tried to keep on the mask that I’ve been asked to wear. I don’t know how well I’m doing anymore. I want to give up.
Getting to know someone is slowly peeling off the mask. Why would you ask them to put it back on?