Applause for the Wallflower

I've found it strange and difficult this past year to come to my computer and harness enough stamina to exclaim the goings-on with my life. I find that when I'm mostly carefree with nothing to complain about, I must find my blog untouched. But today--yesterday--was a strange day.

I attempted, to no avail, to describe how I felt about what he'd said to me. Frankly, I don't really know what to feel. To tell you the truth, I don't know if it's even worth worrying about because with his track record, the idea will be soon mowed over just as quickly as it had grown--new and exciting things in his life tend to fizzle out and flop like that. So I wonder if it's worth working myself up over. And I know how much it'll...well I don't really know how he'll feel when he reads that this is what I think of his current prospects. I'm not scared though. Normally, in situations such as these, I'd be afraid to be offensive, opting to keep my mouth shut. But I know he will check this and read it eventually, if not sooner than later. In any case, I'm not afraid now. I'm not afraid of hurting his feelings or annoying him or causing some sort of contemplation in his mind. I encourage it, and I hope he can understand what I have to say.

Let me start with this: for so long, I'd been used to hearing the ideology of a genuine soldier through the eyes of the one battered (and I use this word very loosely) soul that had been left to scrape up the pieces when he'd left--about the truth in service, about honor of patriotism, about the prestige of his personal mission. And here I am, little old me, with my boyfriend who, as he so eloquently described, soaks the benefits of the government. I can't lie; for a while, this is the substance I believed made up the man I claimed to love, but deep down, I yearned for someone with a true sense of duty and moral fiber, someone I could be proud of. And I can't lie here either: what can I be proud of? Such a selfish, vapid reason to push someone along, down a path to possible destruction (most literally), but admittedly, I claim to be nothing more than a base and shallow girlfriend seeking to fill the "my-boyfriend-is-better-than-your's" role.

So hearing that he wants to be more than a boy playing Army waiting for his next meal ticket, it is music to my ears. He has yet again returned to that endearing man that stole my heart and was everything I'd wanted--as welcome and warm to me as the moment I'd set eyes on him. He must know that this selfish drive for him to be happy makes me sick. I hope he knows. I hate myself for it day after day, every moment that passes that I think about him furthering himself, and sometimes I disgust myself with plans made all too soon based solely on a mere whim. But this is who I am, well who I am behind closed doors. Did he know this of me? Now we talk so little of ourselves, that all conversation seems to consist of is the day's activities, a hearty helping of "I Love You"s, and a warm goodnight before he or I fall swiftly into the comfort of sleep.

Regardless, it makes me happy to know I'm not alone in my aspirations for him to be more involved man. I think I've always known he wanted it for himself, but because I hear so little of it, it makes it difficult for me to really believe that it's absolutely true. But even so, his carefree laugh and the ease of my weight in his arms...it makes everything that much easier to accept. Rightfully, as any girlfriend would agree, I, in no sane state of mind, would ever want my love to walk, willingly mind you, into the arms of prominent danger. But as I know he wants better for himself, and of course being selfish as I am, I know that this will shock his system, perhaps, out of the comatose state it's been in for three years. There are other ways of doing this...normal ways, like going back to school, or who knows what else...but as difficult a person at really figuring out as he proves to be, I think I've finally come to understand that nothing but walking into a war zone could really do the trick; something dramatic, and worrisome, and dutiful all rolled into one.

I suppose talking about it here is supposed make me realize that he has my full blessing to do as his pleases. But frankly, I just cannot give it. Of course I am partial to the idea, but as selfish as I am for wanting his happiness, I am selfish for myself as well. Yes, I want you at my prom. Yes, I want you at my graduation. Yes, I want you to help me move into college. Yes, I want you to be able to talk me through my first all-nighter before a major test. If I didn't care about our relationship, I wouldn't want any of these things, I wouldn't care. But as you've told me not to base my choice of school on your account, you must not, absolutely cannot base this decision on me. I'm appreciative that you factor me in, but quite honestly, I just cannot handle the pressure.

We are both so young...and already I feel like we've both failed at little pieces of life--him in a rut, me crashing before I've even left the ground. But I won't retract. I'm not sorry for what I think about this. And if this is offending, it must be a hard truth that is absolutely necessary. But beyond all else, I hope you know I love you with all my heart. And that's the reason I'm able to tell you this. Because, like I said, I know you'll be reading this. And as always, with a well thought out piece of writing, I always do my best explanation. I hope you understand.

Sometimes I draw inspiration to write from various instruments of expression that seem to present themselves in my life. I've been at home a lot recently (duuh, it's summer break!) and I heard this song through a commercial on television--Wakin' Up To Love by Shanna Crooks. It defines everything that I've been experiencing. I don't know how else to express this, but man I don't think I've felt like this in a long time. I came home last night from my date with Myles (yeah, we've been dating for a little while now and we still schedule dates with each other...haha) and god, I just couldn't stop smiling. This whole summer, I think now that we, or I, have the time to slow down, our relationship can be more easily broken down and observed--all the things that need to be tweeked, the things that need to be kept the same. It's always great to go back to my old entries about how everything felt when we first met, all the way to that one month hiatus we took, just to see how much our relationship has evolved since we've been together. So much of ourselves have changed, and so much has evolved, but so little in our feelings and the way we communicate has. I still wake up every morning scrambling for my phone to make sure he's still there, I still get those phone calls at 8:55AM from him to let me know he's walking into work, I still get random "I love you," texts, he still tells me I'm the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, and we both still love each other, even after the fire fades. Of course, that's not to say it has. But I'll tell you this: one of the best conversations we've shared in a really long time was not about our passionate evenings or how to reach intimate levels with one another, it was about the fact that no matter what happened in our lives, we would still be best friends. Sometimes, I can't lie, it scares me to think that Myles is my best friend, but it makes everything about him so much more enjoyable, that I'm so comfortable with him that I can freely speak about my period, or picking my nose, or farting, or how pooping feels. God we're a weird couple, but there are some married couples who struggle to share these parts of their lives with their spouses. Though I would never call myself an extroverted person, he makes me feel like there is absolutely no shame in being human. And aside from all my disgusting bodily functions, I'm able to tell him my deepest, darkest secret...quite literally. Its something I was never even able to muster the strength up to tell Carlos or Winona out of fear of embarrassment, but somehow, he makes me so comfortable, I'm able to confide in him the hardest thing for me to cope with.

He's changed me in so many ways. As much as I used to do for Carlos, I didn't do nearly half as much as I know I try to attempt for Myles. I want to make him happy. I want to comfort him. I want to pamper him and make sure he knows that I've done my absolute best to take care of him. He's been so good to me. Sometimes I don't know how he puts up with me, but it's all give and take. I put up with a lot of him, and he does the same for me. We love each other and I'm so glad that I can trust that no matter what, I've put my trust into something profound, an investment that won't come back to bite me in the ass. And frankly, it means a lot to me that I can spend an entire day with him and still be just as in love with him as the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that. And by the time the 'rest of our lives' decide to roll around, we'll both be so filled with love, we may burst. That's my ultimate goal, you know...to die due to an overdose of love.

I do it every once in a while when I'm absolutely bored and reminiscing about the past... I look into that stupid truthbox of mine that everyone started obsessing over at the end of my sophomore year (I can't believe it's been a whole year from then) and I think about all the stupid things that have happened since then. Now here's a name I haven't mentioned in a while: Carlos. An army boy now, he's finally figuring things out, I think. It's funny how everything's worked out between us, how our lives have comepletely diverged. But the thing of it is, no matter what happens, I always go back to those moments I think I'll always hold precious. I could never hate someone that, regardless of whether he was able to feel the same as me, allowed me to open up into a new, beautiful person. I am who I am because of the love I felt for him, and the pain he allowed me to feel. And granted, I know that in the end, my broken heart is all the thanks I ever got from him, the story somehow wouldn't feel completed if it had ended any other way.

But man, all of these old comments...some about admiration, some about love, some about how much of a terrible person I am...some a little x-rated lol. But one, I just can't get over. No matter how much I talk myself into how grateful for the experiences I've had with Carlos, I just can't get over this: "ok so u no i just wanna say thanks for finally saying to me what u really want to ... i truely appreciate it and i hope u feel better congrats... o and so u no i have been in the hospital for a good 3 days bc i got hit by a car ... thanks for that... and im proud of u , u finally say what u feel ... i new u could congrats"

The really pathetic thing is that I can't remember if I believed what he'd said about being in the hospital. Looking back at it now, I can't believe he stooped so low. Lets be honest, this blog was written because I can't believe how stupid I was back then. It was only a year ago and look at how much I've grown. Why would I even want to involve myself with someone that disgusting? With someone who couldn't stand the idea of me moving on with my life so much that he resorted to the worst and most fake lie to try to facilitate some sort of pity by me for himself. It absolutely sickens me. What makes it worse is that now every time we speak, I know its because he misses me. Even when all this had happened, my mom told me that no matter what happened, I would always be the one who had shown him true love and that when he doesn't have that to lean on anymore, when it's just him by himself, he'll be sorry. That always happens. You give a man 80% but he sees that you can't fulfill that last 20...so chasing after that 20, he leaves the 80 and realizes that he is nothing without what he once had.

I learned that lesson this past week, in a short concise situation that was resolved last night. Of course there wasn't much drama that surrounded the whole ordeal, but it taught me to appreciate the person who really is able to give you what you need all gift wrapped and tied in a little bow. I can't change who I am. If I'm not what he wants, and if he's not what I want, I can't bend myself nor him to suit the comfort that we've grown so accustomed to. But my god, how I'm so in love...still. 11 months of turmoil that really only added up to a grand total of maybe 8-9 months felt like so much more than the seamless and beautiful 13 full months I've had this past year. As for now, I wouldn't do anything to jeoparodize that happiness. I could never be stupid enough to leave my 80 for the 20 I worked with.

It seems like everyone on my Facebook is moving forward with their lives, getting engaged, married, new family pets, new families... It's so strange to think that a girl I used to spin with my freshman year has now set her date to be married as August 1st of this year. And all the wedding pictures being posted online from various women I've become acquainted with throughout the few short years I've been on this earth. It just makes me think about my relationship with Myles and my juvenile aspirations to begin a life of love and "honesty" with him. But then I start to think about how quickly life has gone by; how fast the last three years of my life have been; how short time has felt with Myles in my life. I think about being a little kid again, posing in my ballerina outfit, blowing kisses at the camera, playing on the old swing set. I always say I can't wait to leave the security of my home; I can't wait to be on my own, self-reliant, independent. It's true. I can't wait to be all by myself with no one to take care of but myself. But then what will I have? I will have nothing but a destination to look forward to. Sometimes I have to tell myself to slow down and take a look around me. One more year. My last. No matter what happens, where I go to school in the fall of 2010, where I live, how much money I make, I will always have this last year here at home with my family and the friends I hold in my arms today. I will always have these memories that I will take into the future.

How strangely the idea of my future has changed in 5 years--how I used to think Lennon would always be the one I ran back to; how I fell head over heels for Carlos; how I now see myself in the throws of eternal love with a man still in the throws of his own boyhood. I'm no different from the girl I was in middle school, still hopelessly holding onto the idea that "This one is the one." And maybe this time, he is. But this does not change my track record... The only difference between then and now is that with another year under my belt in October, I will soon be old enough to see to it that my hopes become reality. Though we all know I'd never be that dumb...

I can't do this anymore. I can't fight with him about the same thing; I can't cry anymore.

I used to get this weird sinking feeling in my chest when I was really hurt. It happens every now and again when I'm really sad or upset about something. It's not even when I cry...not really. It's just when I'm sad. It used to happen a lot with Carlos, when I felt like situations were out of my control, like I couldn't hold on to anything no matter how desperate I felt. I feel like that now. No matter what I do, I can't control this.

I want to blame him so badly, it hurts me. I can't believe he said what he did. I don't think he realizes, in the throws of his fury, how much he really said in a three-word text message. He wished pain on me. He hoped something terrible would happen. Is this what it feels like to let something so precious slip from your fingers?...because I always felt like I threw away any promise of happiness until him. I learned to embrace the fear of falling when he came into my life...and now he's wishing pain upon me.

Is it even worth the fight anymore? I feel like throwing in the towel, surrendering to the will I know is not my own, but what can I do? I love him so much I can't put it to words, but I'm hurting so badly right now that I can't even cry. There are no more apologies on either side--just good intentions and broken promises. And now look at where we are.

Can I find my way through this swamp?