Applause for the Wallflower

Quite frankly, I try not to think about the situation, or rather lack there of, but it's hard when it stares me in the face every day of my life. Then I think, "Ok, so it's only going to be two more weeks and I won't have to deal with it anymore," and then I start thinking "But I don't want it to just be two more weeks." I hate how indecisive I can be at times. But the point is I'm really frustrated with the hostility and tension. I wish we could just laugh and joke like just a few weeks ago, but we can't. I try to act hostile because he does it. He does it because I do something that makes me hostile, but then he cools off but I'm still trying to be hostile and angry because I always try and make a point, so he returns it. It's like the stupid vicious cycle that always goes around and around and around.

I tell myself I should fix it; be the bigger person and step up to the plate and make him listen. But I think maybe in time, the answer will come. Maybe the opportunity to become fixed will present itself and things will get better. But nothing ever happens unless you take the steps and make the actions that will give you the outcome you want. Of course that makes sense. I mean it's common sense. So I'm torn between my head and my heart. Sounds like the same old problem...

But like our floor says: "If you keep waiting for the perfect moment, the perfect moment will pass you by." I don't want to be the one that misses it.

I was thinking today about how fast this part of the season is going to go. A couple months ago, three weeks seemed to drag on endlessly. Now that I look at it, we're so close to the end, it isn't even funny. I mean, the season...look at it. I remember at the beginning of the seven week block we had of straight shows. I knew that I had to stand there and say "Enjoy this, Kristina, because at the end of these seven weeks, you'll be down to the end and you'll be wishing it were the Everglades Show again..." And look at me now. It's that time of the season and I'm wishing it were the Everglades show again.

Broadbent was talking about last year and how these last couple of weeks went for us, about the week of WGI and all the emotions paired with it. Last year's championships weren't too hot for me, as far as emotions and just basically the whole summation of the entire season. It was definitely like an open-ended chapter that hadn't quite been competed when the author decided to start a new book. This year, I'm determined to change that. None of this stress as far as school, boys, family, money. None of it. As soon as tomorrow's mid-terms are done with, I'll have no reason to be thinking anything but guard, and quite frankly, that how I want it to be. Everything else thrown into the mix is just too complicated and I have more than enough time to straighten it all out at the end of the these three weeks. And if it can't wait...well then my priorities are already set, so it's just going to have to suffer; I'd rather bear the consequences than have this season add up to nothing more than the last year's.

I've been feeling so empowered lately. I don't know what it is, but I think after realizing all I did on Sunday night, I just started to really let go of everything and face reality. I'm Kristina. I'm single. No one to have and to hold. I'm not trying to say this for sympathy, but like I already said, empowerment. It's like that driving force. I'm learning to be independent and self-sufficient and with the Power Regional, Circuit Championships, and WGI coming up all consecutively, to be anything but is a scary thought. To be honest, I'm really proud of myself. I'm going back to the old Kristina...the nonchalant, content, smiley, laughing Kristina I know and appreciate; the one without a self-esteem issue; the person who can brush anything off her shoulder; the focused, intelligent, on-top-of-her-game girl. This is the person I like, the one I want to be more often than not. And thank god she decided to show up now when I was at a really low point with the highest of expectations.

I just can't wait to stand in that tunnel singing Baby Shark, doing all the rituals right before we step onto that floor. I can't wait to look out into the crowd and want to pee my uniform because the crowd seems endless. I can't wait to listen to the last pep talk of the season before we hit that floor with the determination and drive and motivation of not only the entire guard, but our instructors, and most of all our friends, family, and fans who have been along for the ride just as we have. And I absolutely can't wait to walk off that floor after finals, our very last performance of our 2008 production of Post Secret smiling and crying and being so absolutely proud that we went beyond performing to actually becoming. It makes no sense...words can't even describe. But as much as I can't wait for all these events, I can. I can wait for this season to be over...because once all these things occur, it'll just put as that much more closer to the very end: the departure of our beloved seniors, the closing of all our hardwork, the last fold of the most creative floor off the competition floor, our last performance in the best uniforms ever, the last time we'll ever perform with the same exact members ever again, the end of the year. Boy, how time flies. It seems like just yesterday, we were coming home from our first day at the winter camp complaining about sore legs and arms. Oh, how much we've grown in such little time. All I can say is I'm so proud. So proud of each and every single person on that floor. But most of all, I'm proud of myself. I've grown up so much and know I'm on the right road to a life of success and that thought couldn't make me happier...

"I'm not afraid to die..."

I was thinking yesterday about the next two years. It feels like summer is so close, I can feel it. I don't know what to think about it, to be honest. I mean its great that summer's so close and we're about to be stress-free and relaxed after another year of school and guard and all the stresses of daily life. But truth be told, that just means one more year till the end. Approaching my junior year, this is especially a scary thought. I mean I get that the seniors have more to think about because they're actually leaving, but they've had all this time to prepare. Me? I'm only going to be starting. I'm going to be taking all my standardized test; picking out my colleges; preparing my courses for my future. On top of that, guard is going to be exceptionally hard, having to be a supporting member when all the seniors leave at the end of the year. I can't imagine how any of the old Crash members dealt... Anyway, I just started realizing how extraordinarily difficult next year is going to be, and quite frankly, I'm scared to death. I mean we start ordering class rings at the end of this year. It's like the beginning of the end...in all respects. I'm still too young to be out there on my own. I'm not mature enough to be by myself and I don't want that responsibility yet.

Maybe in the next two years time I'll be singing a different tune; happy for the newfound freedom that will certainly come my way when I leave the nest. But at the moment, I can't stand thinking I will be so far away from the place I've called home for so long. Granted, I may not know where exactly I'll be going, but just knowing that it won't be home makes it farther than necessary in my mind.

I always hear the seniors takling about how they want to just leave high school and be done with it and get out. I know there's so much more out there for me, but just to think that there's more than the already-dramatic society of the high school hierarchy just makes me shudder at the thought. I'm trying not to paralyze myself with my own fear, but my god. Just two year. Two. I remember saying at the beginning of high school "This marks the beginning of the end." No. I still had four years. Sitting here on the verge of being classified as an 'upperclassman' scares the living shit out of me. What will I do when I won't be considered 'the baby' anymore? What will happen when others look to me for dependence instead of the other way around? I feel myself taking to the role already, but the fact that next year, it will almost be expected, if not absolute, really makes me nervous. The seniors next year, along with the rest of my class, will be the members that basically have to support the program. Maybe it won't be as bad as I'm thinking it'll be; maybe the incoming sophomores will do a better job than I think they will at handling stress and filling the shoes of the alumni. Maybe. We'll see.

But the truth is sometimes I just want a definite answer. I'm so tired of holding off and not knowing. I just want to know already. Will I be alright?

I just wrote this stupid long ass post and it didn't save right, so now I have to start over. Quite frankly it's late and my fingers are tired and I don't want to write it all over again. So I'll go over the main points.

Today was an interesting day. It was all good until I came home to find this ridiculous comment Carlos left me on my last post. Quite frankly, I didn't want a response to my anger, but could I expect anything less from a hothead like him? Of course not. But the main reason I didn't want a response was because I just wanted to get out all my anger that had been festering, be done with it, and not have to deal with a rebuttal from the peanut gallery. But of course, now that I have, I have to confront him about it and drag the both of us into awkward conversation that will only lead us into a place we've been and seen one too many times. Whatever. I'm too proud to let a comment like that go unspoken or unnoticed, as if it had never happened.

But I was making a profound point earlier. I was thinking this weekend at my mom's about how much feelings for Carlos are simmering. About a week or so ago, I felt like I was so close, I could feel it brush my skin...memories surfacing as if they could be fathomable again. But then they went away almost as fast as they had come. I mean all those regular things were there...the dreams, the feelings...everything. You see, when I start thinking things will finally be ok, I start having dreams that drive me to believe that what I'm thinking isn't just my hopes. But when I wake up, I have to remind myself it was just a dream and go back to living the same ordinary, jumbled-up, confused life I lead. Anyway, so those dream started. I think it was maybe two nights I had them. And then today. I can't lie, I wanted to go because I wanted to test myself. I needed to see if I wanted to be there enough to make things awkward, or if I was strong enough to let everything go and just have fun. I went because, yes, I enjoy being with you. I enjoy laughing and having a good time; I like being around you and your family; I like just lying around being able to talk. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to have a reason to be in his company. But that's beside the point. Like I was saying, today, of course things happened. I kind of figured that if we were comfortable and it wasn't awkward like I imagined it would be, we'd probably kiss or something like that. And low and behold, we did. But now that I think about it, I don't think we kissed because there was anything there. I don't think we did any of that because we truly truly love each other with the same passion we did before. I think it all happened because of habit. I mean when we were dating, it was like a given that if we were ever in a room alone, regardless of who was home, we'd sneak a kiss, or more sometimes. These days, when we're by ourselves, it's almost like we go on autopilot and let things happen because its habit. Of course there has to be some want in it from both of our ends. We've been trying for months to let go without any obvious success, so there must still be something there, but the fact of the matter is that although we still may have slight feelings for each other, everything we do is based off habit. I can't really comment on whether or not I still love him. I mean of course, if I had the chance to be with that boy again, I'd probably take it in a heart beat without even evaluating what's at stake. But I think if I started to think, listened to my head once in a while, maybe even dug down deep into my heart, I'd realize there's more to being with a person than the past we may share, which I think would be a major reason I'd be so keen to take him back, if ever that were possible (which it wouldn't be).

Sometimes I hate sitting here and thinking about everything that's happened in a night. Among lying there watching him play video games, which isn't as bad as I used to think, fixing my hair with his arms around my waist, being kissed on the cheek after a moment of silence, play-fighting...I hate sitting here and realizing that all that doesn't mean anything. I mean, sure it may at the moment of its occurrence, but in essence, it really doesn't. All the little gestures in the world will never amount to all the things I know in my heart are true, things he's reminded me of time and time again. Part of me thinks he says that we'll never be together again, and reminds me adamantly because he tries to make it so now that I know, he doesn't have that weakness to fall into if in the case that he wants to recant and apologize. Part of me thinks he's so quick to say he doesn't feel a certain way for me anymore because he wants me to move on so he has no excuse to want to come back. He's so capable of departure...as well as myself. I can leave. To tell you the truth, it would be quite easy at this point. But the question has always been whether or not I want to. Frankly, the answer is no. I'm not ready to be with anyone else. I'm not ready to date. At all. Whether with someone else, or him. But on the same hand, I don't want to lose his company either. I don't know if I said it on this post or the one that didn't save right, but I don't want to have a reason to be near him. I like being with him; I like talking to him; I like laughing and joking around; I like the fighting; And quite frankly, I like the flirting. But most of all, I just like his company. I miss the warmth; I miss the strength; I miss that figure he used to be for me. But all those things I miss, I can find in other guys if I looked hard enough. His company can never be replaced. And like I said, I just don't want to have an excuse to be around him. The only fathomable hope I can truly say I have for our relationship is that one day we'll be close enough to just spend the day together and not worry about loose ends or strings; just to say we're friends and that's why we're spending time together, because that's what friends do. Someday.

I just realized I'm so tired of being here. With everything. I'm tired of being built up and thrown back down. I'm tired of realizing my lack of necessity. I'm tired of always winding up right back in this seat. Why can't I just trust myself again? Why can't I just be happy? As much as I want to keep you out of this post, here you are.

You are my problem. You always have been, and you always will be. As much as you try to distance yourself from that area of concern, you turn up anyway because you interfere. Always. You don't do it on purpose, and I can't blame you for that. But you have to realize that what you're doing doesn't make me sleep any easier at night, either. Honest to god, sometimes I wonder how you fall asleep. How do you live with yourself? You lead all these girls on. You say you don't feed them lie after lie after lie. Oh sweetheart...if only I didn't know who you are. You're such a good liar, it's scary sometimes. Little white lies. "No, I never said that. I just say I want to hook up and they go "Ok," because I'm Flanagan Boy." No. You just fail to mention that all it is is a hook-up. I'm the victim of that crime as well. You're always talking about how when we get together, it means more because we love each other. Fuck that. No it doesn't. We may still have feelings for each other, but that doesn't make it any more special. I'm just a girl you can come back to for sex with the other girls get boring. And what about Marissa? You loved her just like you loved me. Hey, I may not know the circumstances, but I know that if you ever got the chance, you'd ride that boat till it took you to the tip of Argentina.

It makes me so angry because no matter what you do to me, no matter how many times you wrong me and break my heart and hurt my feelings, I could never stay this angry at you. I could never outright tell you how I feel because when I'm around you, I lose my train of thought. I forget everything I want to say because what comes out of your mouth, hearing you out, listening to how you feel, that's always been more important to me than telling you the truth, telling you my thoughts. But I've just had enough. I hate that you've single-handedly caused my self-esteem to drop; I hate that you constantly remind me of how we'll never be together again because it would never work; I hate that you're always talking about your next conquest, or the last girl; I hate how even though you still have the balls to talk all that shit, you still flirt shamelessly with me as if nothing ever happened...as if the 11 months we spent together were totally amiss. And what I hate the most is that I flirt right back. Like I said today, I get lured because I want to be. I allow you to drag me in because for those few moments, I believe things are ok. For the few seconds we kiss, I know the only person you're thinking about is me.

It will never make me happy to see you single until I see you as miserable as you've made me feel. That's the plain truth. I've never been a terribly bitter person to those I love and trust, but finally, after everything you've put me through, you can't say you didn't expect it. And I know that deep down, you're sorry for all the times you've hurt me. But because I always knew that and tried to keep that in mind, I never allowed myself to truly get angry at you. But here it is, in-living-color. I want to be better. I want to feel better. I don't want to hate you. But right now, what else do I have the option of doing?

Just like my last post, I refuse to sit here and tell you my life has been hard. It's just been really rough these past few days. I don't know how else to explain it. It's like being battered back and forth, constantly lingering in the space between happiness and...not. I can't quite say I'm not content, however, I can't say I'm incandescently happy, either. I mean emotionally, I just feel so drained and exhausted, like every last bit of me is fighting to hold on. But there are those moments I have, actually quite a few, where I can smile and laugh and forget the worries and the stress and everything else. It's not such a task to smile these days, whereas in the past, it was an effort unto itself.

I just really can't explain it. With everything going wrong I guess... Between realizing my now ex-best friend was a total jerk who I couldn't trust, the whole debacle yesterday and all the drama that ensued, boy problems, self-esteem...my only question is "What's next?" I mean honestly...what could possibly happen now? I know things could be worse, but nothing seems to be working out the way it usually does. And of course, it isn't the end of the world, but all I can seem to do is hope that things get better.

I really wanted to talk about my self-image on this blog. I don't know why, but for the past couple weeks, I've really been feeling unattractive. This isn't a plot to get whoever reads this to tell me how they think I'm ridiculous, or whatever the usual banter is. This is a genuine, honest-to-god, mistrust in myself and my self-esteem. It's funny because I'm not gonna lie, I've never really had problems with the way I saw myself and my body. I've never really ever had self-esteem issues or problems with my self-image. But for some reason, like I said, the past couple of weeks have thrown me for a loop. No matter what I do, I never look quite good enough; my weight's never quite low enough; my face is never quite clear enough; my hair is never quite done right; my make-up is never quite even or beauty-enhancing as the other girls' make-up. Everything about the way I look and feel just screams WRONG! and I just want to fix it. I want to be able to look in the mirror and say, "Kristina, you look good today. Feel better about yourself." I want to be able to step off a scale with confidence and say, "Kristina, look at your weight. You're absolutely perfect and healthy!" I feel like it's so "teenagery" and adolescent (with a negative connotation) to say you don't like how you look. It's such a foreign feeling to me, and it doesn't help that every time I'm around the one guy I at least attempt to look pretty for, he's so busy commenting on the hot bodies and nice racks on other girls, that it just makes me feel like total shit. These days, I've taken to my mom's method of complimenting: "Hey, if I don't compliment myself, who will?" But how can you possibly begin to compliment yourself if you know in your heart that you can't truly believe it? There are only so many "I'm cute,"s I can listen to before I stop the effort all together. Why dress up and wear cute tops? Why wear make-up? Why do anything I really do to make myself look good outside the regular daily hygiene regime? Why do it all when all you ever say to yourself is "I look like shit today"? But I guess the question is "Why stop". I guess attempting to look pretty is better than not. I just wish I could see what everyone else did. I've finally realized how much energy it takes to dislike yourself. I'm too tired to put energy into it. When can I just put on autopilot?

I'm not going to sit here and say my life sucks. I'm not blogging for that reason. But I'm will say this: At this moment in time, my age, I feel like everyone questions their identity. I've been lucky enough to have been raised by a family who has drilled into me that I will make something of myself, that there are no if-ands-or-buts about it. I've always known that I will become a strong, independent woman when I leave the nest, even if I'm not entirely sure what exactly I will become. Sometimes I forget that not everyone is as lucky as me for this and it makes it hard for me to relate.

But I do have those moments where I question every decision I make. I wonder if what I'm doing will take me in the right direction; if keeping my feet planted is the safe and healthy thing to do; if picking up and moving on should be the right option. I wonder if the words I speak, the actions I take, the moments I spend are all doing and conveying the message I want them to.

Sometimes it feels like no matter what I try, no matter how hard and how long I persevere, I will never get anywhere better than second best. Take baton for example. When I was a kid, things just came naturally to me. I didn't have to work very hard for that national title. Beginner Juvenile Miss Majorette of America 2002 fell in my lap without a second thought. The next year, I moved up an age division as well as into the Intermediate category. So now, I was competeing under the Intermediate Pre-teen (10-12) division where the competition was definitely a lot stiffer. No matter how hard I tried from then all the way to the end of my twirling career, I never got any better than wearing that state or regional sash. It kills me every day I open my closet with those silk and satin sashes hanging so casually in my closet. Two state, two regional, one national. All to remind me how close I came and how far I ended. I couldn't even podium at my last state pageant. Just an overwhelmingly disappointing end to a sport in which I loved and cared about to deeply that even to this day, I cry remembering the moments of triumph.

And now here I am, trying to rebuild my life. I've found a new passion and along the way, I found bits of myself. I love this person I'm becoming, but will I ever be able to let go of my past? Will I ever leave behind the memories that hinder my growth, the pain that stunts my youth? I don't know. I try, but sometimes it just doesn't feel as if its enough. And it doesn't help that I'm told that there are girls who don't even know me think I'm a bitch. I'm not going to sit here and say it hurts me all that badly, because truthfully, it doesn't. Talk shit all you want, just don't fuck around with me. I'm trying to find myself in a sea of the same faces. The minute details of what someone may think of me is only going to get in my way. I'm just going to have to block it all out...

What do I say to you now? I've thrown all my cards onto the table and you know every move I could possibly make. What do you want from me now? I can't even get my thoughts down properly. It should be enough for me to hear that you realized that the girl you left me for can't compare, or rather that you realized you still love me. But the truth is that it's not.

He loves me, but he doesn't want to work for it. Tonight, he basically told me he wants me back, but doesn't want to work at an established relationship; he doesn't want to make the effort. I know in the back of my mind, well really in the front, I shouldn't want this type of relationship. I know. But just that he says that he knows it wouldn't work...it kills me. Why do I have so much hope still? Why do I still see my future with him when he sees a break up in two weeks? Why doesn't he see it the way I always have? He's just preventing the inevitable and I hate that I have that perception. Why can't I just fucking move on already?

My god, I just realized how unhealthy this is for me to sit here and wonder what he's doing right now; how unhealthy it is to sit around waiting for a text message that will never come, a phone call that will never even be dialed. I hate that I sit here and want to know who he's texting or talking to instead. God, this is really bad. I hate how I sit here and talk about how I want things to be different for me when all my actions convey are, "Please come back to me, I swear I'll change." Am I that fucking desperate to be with him? I mean yeah, I love the kid, but he was no bed of roses all the time. I mean, I know I wasn't, but since then I've changed so dramatically, it's almost funny. And I think I gave other guys a chance, I might find I like a few of them, too.

I mean, come on, Kristina. He doesn't even want to work at it. He doesn't want to try because he thinks it won't work. Why is that something you'd want to strive for? Why do you want a boy who thinks a relationship with you is next to impossible, or rather, a functional, healthy relationship? I don't. I don't want a boy who's so sure he loves me, but second-guesses himself when asked if he wants to be with me. Fuck that. The answer is simple: You either want me, or you don't. The really upsetting thing is you're answer will probably be along these lines: "I love you, but it won't ever work." I've heard it before. But that isn't what I want to hear. For once, why don't you just stop trying to defy me and do something different. Change your thought process. Change your perception. Just change something. Because as long as you may love me, I'm not hanging on forever. And I say this every time, but baby, this train's whistle is blowing and it's post-poned its departure for you for long enough. The conductor won't stall any longer.

It's been interesting these past few days. Between Tyler and Carlos, many things have...changed to say the least. In the process of letting go of Carlos, I think I've just started to hang on more tightly, and that's a very very very bad thing to do at the moment. Between all the whispered words--sweet-nothings--and kisses, I don't know which way I'm pulling myself. Sometimes I wish it were all a bit more clear. I feel like this is exactly how Carlos started acting as he tried to break me and Lee up when he came home. I know better than to relate the two behaviors because I know he doesn't want to go back out with me again. The thing about it is this: I know what he's doing because I do the same thing. He doesn't want to be with me, but he doesn't want anyone else to either. It's perfectly fine that he moves on, but if I do, all hell will break loose. I feel the same way with him now. Now that I have Tyler and he's been confessing to me, whether it's truthful or not, that he doesn't feel the same way he does for me for any of the other girls he's "talking" to, I feel I'm starting to regain a little of my control in the situation. I feel as if there's a string that's just there for me to pull that tugs at Carlos's heart with every mention of the name "Tyler" and I'm not gonna lie, I love it. For so long, it was him pulling that string with me, flaunting Kiera in my face as if I didn't recognize what he was doing, and now finally, it's my turn. I hate how vindictive and vengeful I am sometimes...

Anyway, so this behavior... Or rather...misbehavior. I know its bad. I know I should be letting go right now, distancing myself from him, but its so hard. I know I say this every time. I'm all too predictable with him and the worst part is that he knows it. He knows that if he just says the right words, tilts his head just at the right angle, looks at me with that squinty glance like he knows what's running through my mind, stares long and hard enough, I melt like putty. Oh god, and the way he kisses... I need to stop thinking about this. It's baaad.

Maybe just once more? How could it hurt?

Goddammit. I'm becoming attatched and I can feel it. Everything he's saying, its working...but when the sun sets, I'm not the one he goes home to. I may be the thought that runs through his mind, but that isn't good enough anymore. And truth be told, I may not even be that. But like I said, that isn't enough anymore. I can't just keep lolling around waiting for him to wise up. He thinks I'll be there when he figures out what he wants. The truth? He'll never want me. I've been there before. I've been in his shoes, and as many times as you say, "You know I love you more than anything and our relationship means the world to me," it doesn't change the fact that you're moving on. I need my own happiness. And I have a great opportunity ahead of me? Why miss it just to hold onto a sinking ship?

I can't say that I wasn't going to blog about this. I was just holding off to compose my thoughts and run things through a bit. You see, I've always loved words. Explanations and context clues. I wouldn't say English specifically, or language arts, but just beautiful words and well-crafted pieces of writing. Lyrics, poetry set to beautiful music, well-thought out essays, stories of love and loss. As black and white as I may sometimes seem, all my grey area belongs in the arts. Performance, expression, there is no set way of how to exhibit these creations. So when I sit here and take a long time to think about just the right way to word something, especially something that's going to be put on my blog, a compilation of many of my most randomly thrown together thoughts, it really means something to me. And for the most part, I don't want to offend anyone, or have to be told I'm wrong or that it shouldn't be something I even begin thinking about, or maybe even that the subject, the idea itself, is just too complicated to mention on a random whim.

So here it goes.

I have been very happy for the past two months. Ok, maybe two months, not so much. But the past month or so, I've been getting back on my two feet and regaining the trust in myself to smile again. There's nothing better than waking up in the morning with a purpose. Before, that purpose was Carlos. Now, it's because I want that gold medal. The explanation of my wants as far as guard goes would be a totally separate blog entirely, something I'm sure would take a very long time for me to get just right, as it only deserves the best of my words, so I'll save it for another day. In any case, my purpose for waking up used to be Carlos, but even that purpose couldn't force me from bed on some days. These days, I wake up straight after my alarm knowing that I have more out there than just a boy. That isn't to say that I didn't love him. That isn't to say I don't. But there are just so many different things to consider.

For so many nights, I stayed up wondering what I had done wrong, what my problems were that drove him from me. Even to this day, it's still my fault, and maybe I've just come to terms with it. But here's the thing: he was never innocent to begin with. I was once told, "When you love someone, they make you want to become a better person. When that person isn't ready to become better, it doesn't mean they don't love you. They just aren't ready to be in love." Honestly, that thought has never made more sense to me than after this weekend. Just in the way he held me, squeezed my hand. He still loves me. These little bits of affection show me that I can believe it when he says it. But deep down, I know he doesn't want to take the responsibility that comes with loving someone. I can't say it hurts much because I'm so used to being disappointed that this is only what I expect, but it's hard to know that the one person you love most loves you back, but isn't ready to grow up. I guess really that's all I can say: It's hard.

But for now, I maintain my original disposition. Whatever happens, happens. I won't linger; I won't dwell; I most definitely will not become attached. That could reap more damage than anything else. But my one burning question is how could I still love a boy, essentially, knowing what I do. How could I still hold onto him knowing that a future with him is next to impossible? Granted, I'm learning to let go, learning to fall; I just don't want to fall back to where I was two months ago, asking myself why, questioning who I am and my judgement. It's never healthy when all you can wonder is, "Where did I go wrong?" But somehow, I know I'm on a different road. Before, all I wanted was for him to fight for me. When I got that, it was more than I had bargained for, almost too much. Now I wonder if he's waiting for me to do the same, to put in a fight for him. There were days when I wondered if he was worth the fight, if he was worth holding onto. These days, I know it's no use fighting a battle you couldn't win. At least for him.

So for now, I settle for those few quiet, stolen moments alone with him in darkened bus seats on long stretchs of empty highway; I settle for whispered words of promises that will never be fulfilled and stolen kisses that carry a meaning behind them that no one will understand but us; I settle for hand squeezes and laced fingers beneath blankets that no one can see; I settle for barely brushed arms and legs as the days pass by with all too much intention behind their "accidental" meeting. I settle because I know. I know because I settle. Quite frankly, settling is the best I can do these days. Anything more than that would be suicide.