Applause for the Wallflower

I don't have much time in class to write this, but I'm bored and I still have a little of time left. How long has it been since I've blogged? No idea. I think I tried something a couple weeks ago, but I never really got to the point I wanted to make. It's not really appropriate to write about it now, but I do have something else in mind.

It's been such a weird week. It's Friday today, and quite frankly I'm glad that the week is finally coming to a much needed close. I think I'll chronical just what happened from Monday to today. Monday, the day after coming home from the Disney trip, not only was it ridiculously hard to wake up that morning, but for me personally, it was a terribly sad thought to think that day would be the first I'd have to experience with the constant knowledge that Myles was miles (haha) away. Later that day, I'd found out there was a boy from school many of my friends had known well in the hospital after a car accident in my neighborhood, about a mile away from what I call home. After that, the guard had had a very difficult rehearsal--something we hadn't quite had yet. Tuesday was an equally hard day to wake up for. We found out in 2nd hour that the boy who'd been hospitalized had passed away. I won't pretend to know all the details, nor will I pretend to be emotionally destroyed by the loss--I believe that right should be reserved only for people who'd been directly linked to him in his daily life. For them, this tragedy will affect every single day of their lives, and for that, my deepest condolences. Wednesday was covered in a hazy as the student body was either in a fog or simply absent. Yesterday didn't seem any better. And now we're here at Friday.

I can't even begin to describe the effect the death of this boy has brought upon the students here at school. Even kids who didn't know him, had never met him, seem to walk the halls in a silence. The viewing is tonight, I think, and the funeral, tomorrow. I do hope all involved in his life find a sense to peace knowing he's in a better place. All will be better in time. Everyone must heal first.

It's been almost a year. Actually, about a week shy of a major event I will never forget. I won't sit here and say I'll always remember the exact date, the very moment...but I'll never forget how it made me feel. I don't want to reflect anymore because I feel like I'm past the point of reflection, however, I do want to make it clear, to myself of all people, that there is no more of me going back to how it used to be. I was so careless...so reckless. I never looked back at my actions, the consequences of the things I'd done, but this is different now.

I look at myself now and how much I've changed--how much my situation has changed. I used to feel so comfortable where I was but here...this is comfort, honest and true. But it forces me to question whether in a few years from now, if I'll think the same way. Will this still be considered a major comfort to me? I guess my real question is whether or not I will still be in love the way I am now through the passing of time. I was thinking about all the things I'd told myself were the reasons I was in love with Carlos back in the day. I assume they were real at the time, but thinking about it, were they? I know I loved him, but how did I know? I guess maybe it was the comfort (there's that word again) and the safety (but was it safe?) that drove me back to him all those times, but it's comfort and safety now too. With Myles though, there's no pretending; there's no watching what I say in hopes of not upsetting him; there are rarely tears; there're no fears. I smile so much more these days and there is no need for hope that someone would save me. I guess it's all in the past and I have no need to look back now.

I actually just wanted to vent about how terribly I still feel about how I'd been played for a fool back then. Oh well. And to quote myself... "Annnnnd cut."

I love that he appreciates me, and I love that when I'm not feeling well, or when we get into a massive fight, he always says "I never want to lose you." I love that we fight, and I love that we have opposing opinions and still find common ground. I love that he's never missed a beat. I love that I love his sister. I love that his car is as messy as my room. I love that baby voice of his he uses when I don't feel well (like today :]). I love that I get to watch him perform sometimes, too, and I love that he's come to more of my competitions in one season than anyone else has in my entire life. I love that he orders my dinners at retaurants, and I love that he pulls out my chair at the table, opens my car door, holds my bag, and drives me around in my car.

There is so much that I love about him, I couldn't possibly list each and every single one of those reasons. I've written blogs like this before and each time, I say the same things. But with him, he does everything so right that each time he does something, anything, I appreciate it the moment it occurs.

I look back now at all those months I'd been hurt. But the fact of the matter is that this does no good. I don't need to linger in the past to appreciate what I've got in the present. All I need to know is that I'm in love with this man, and this man is in love with me.

It's almost as if each time I'm with him, all these points are made exceedingly clear. I'm so in love and nothing could possibly be better than this feeling now--the world could turn upside down and I could lose each and every single thing I find most important to me, but as long as I'd have this constant, I'd find a way to survive. I know it.

For a long time, I've avoid writing this entry. I look back now, not because I've just turned 17, not because it's been a year since that life-changing event, not because I'm with someone I love, and not because I see myself where I should be, but because my regret and guilt has grown so immense that I simply cannot bare to keep it pent up any longer, plain and simple. Truth be told, I don't feel reflection upon my life is completely necessary, however I don't think it would be totally right of me, or very possible, to express myself without giving a recollection of the things that's happened.

I look at what's been... Six months ago is just about when it started, maybe five and a half months. Innocent as can be, at least on my end. How was I to know what would happen? I've always known that I wasn't going to be the one to show you the love and kindness you deserve, yet I tried anyway. I went weeks without talking to you because I knew how destructive it would be to my primary and essential source of happiness. But the fact of the matter is that a few months later, look at what happened.

I hate knowing you're standing there on the same field as me, separated merely by a few feet and and some band members; I hate sitting in the stands at football games with you able to peer down and see me, even though I know you don't; I have seeing you as I pass you by in hallways; I hate pretending not to look at you when you're passing by; but to tell you the truth, what I hate the most is knowing that once the last football game's over, I'll never have an excuse to be near you ever again. I hate not having closure...leaving it at "God, he hates me," and without having a fool-proof excuse for me to be around, I don't know if I'll ever get that desired closure I've so badly wanted since this all happened.

I can't imagine how much thinking he must have done, how much courage it must have taken him to tell me he couldn't do it anymore. Or maybe the decision, the choice, was an easy one. I don't even remember how it all played out, to tell you the truth. One minute, we were meeting each other after I got off work, the next he was sending me hate messages on facebook. And all that time in between, I questioned my moral code, what I was doing, and if I was hurting myself more, or the boys I had tangled up in my web of deceit. In essence, I think life would have been much simpler without the presence of the few dates we'd been on, the whirl-wind make-out sessions in the back seat of my car, and "that one time," but the past is the past and no matter how many times I try to alter the course of my actions, nothing will ever be different.

But even so, I'm still me. I'm the still the same girl who hates when people dislike her. I'm still the girl who'd rather apologize for something that'll probably never be fixed than to leave it be. Every now and then when I know he's somewhere close, I'll steal a glance because I know there'll be none of those in the future. And even less frequently than that, I'll turn my head to put my eye on him for a moment and see that just as discreetly as I tried to be, he put his eye on me for a second. Its like that quote: "I love when you look at me because I know for at least one second, I ran through your mind." I guess to say I'm content with that is an understatement.

But I guess there's really no way to end this entry on a happy note as nothing's resolved and will likely remain unresolved for the rest of my life. So I'll say this: Nothing makes me happier than being with the one I love. He makes me smile the way no one else can; he makes me laugh harder than anyone; he makes me a better person. No one can change what he's given me and what he'll continue to give me for the rest of my life. But sometimes...I think as humans, we all just require a little more than what's infront of us.

First of all, I can't believe it's almost been a month since I've posted on here. I guess in essence, nothing's really been too terrible for me to be posting frequently (which is usually the main reason I write, to express any major discontent...ments (is that a word??)) Actually, everything's been quite the opposite. Life has been undeniably blissful recently and it's doing me wonders.

So I was thinking just a few moments ago how my most favorite time of the day is at night when I get my finally call of the night from Myles. As much as I enjoy sleep, I'd much rather talk to him than anything else. But what I've realized is that it's not just the talking that makes it my favorite time of the day; it's the fact that he's there. Ever since the beginning, I've said the same thing: he could be dead asleep and his snores could put me into a state of tranquility, gently laying me into my own cradle of peace. And each morning when I wake up, or in the middle of the night when I realize the other line is much too silent, I'm disappointed each time I find my phone's died and we're no longer connected by the technology that holds us together, or that I stupidly rolled over in my sleep and my phone's shut closed, disrupting the line. Like right now for example, I'm typing this with him sitting less than a foot away from me, sleeping soundly...the phone, that is. But the fact that he's there, his presence, provides this sort of protection I find I often lack when I fall asleep "alone." In any case, I think you get the point.

It must be nice to be him...having an open book to my feelings and insight on many of the issues that run my mind. I mean all he has to do is click the bookmarked link, and there's my blog, right there for him to see. Sometimes I wish I had that from him... It's so much easier than having to ask him, and sometimes it's a little more beneficial to read it when he's talking to himself than when he's talking directly to me. I mean it's not like everyone's the "journaling type," but it would be nice to have the option open lol. But I guess the question is what would I have to read that he hasn't told me? Hmmm. That is the question.

In any case, the fact of the matter is that life is going quite smoothly for the time being. No major bumps in the road, no sudden pit falls. All things feel as if they are in place, in that orderly fashion as if God himself had hand-picked these circumstances for me telling me that this is my reward for sticking through everything that's hit me in the past. I'm so glad I'm not where I was a year ago. Come to think of it...it's been a year since...that. Boy oh boy, I am glad I'm not there anymore. I shudder to imagine what my life would be if I'd still been there. I'd be swimming in a sea of mediocrity, drowning in my own self-pity this I am sure. Oh, how Myles has saved me...how eternally indebted I am to him for showing me the good in a man's heart. And the most wonderful constituent about all of this: I am not alone. Ever.