Oh My. 5 Months and 19 Days.

31 December, 2010 / 1 January, 2011

Everyone writes at the end/beginning of the year. Well, everyone that writes, anyway. But because I haven't written as much as I wrote last year, I guess I just need to kind of relive all that this year was.

I remember thinking that 2009 was a fantastic year of growth and discovery. But in actuality, 2010 was an even greater year for all of those things.
It is my hope that there will never be just THAT year in which we regard as the year of growth, but rather a year that STARTED many more years of that same mentality. I think there is a year in which we become someone we were not aware that we can be, we learn to become comfortable in this new skin, and we move forward in it. And when we do that, things happen to us. Magic happens. Life becomes bigger and exciting in all sorts of ways because we see things differently.

Last year, I grew immensely into my own identity. I learned to not live my life for other people.

I did this on the Habitat for Humanity trip to New Orleans last year. Every single time I have hopped into one of the big vans to trek for hours on the highway, I have mentally gone over the list of those people I would call my family for the week. They have always been people I typically don't talk to or hang out with. They are not people that know me like my good friends know me.

And last year while I did this, I asked myself, "Why do I still sign up for these trips and hope that I will be chosen to go if I have not ever had substantial small talk with any of these people?"

Not only that, but I was choosing to go on this trip instead of staying home at Band Camp, where many people would say I should've been, because I was needed there. I felt extremely guilty for not being there. I even brought my music with me to practice and memorize.

I always find myself surprised at the seemingly stupidest things on these Habitat trips. Having Sheehan be the first person to wish me a happy birthday on the day I turned 18 really made the day start off wonderfully. Will Schnabel wished me a happy birthday every ten minutes that day, it seemed. As I started work on building a staircase, I could hear a marching band playing in the distance.

I should've been guilty, then. I know I should've thought about everyone at home, almost see them marching and see the hole in the formation where I should be. But while I thought about them, I didn't feel bad.
I learned such a lesson that day. I learned that we are never placed where we are not meant to be in this life.
If I was not supposed to be in the heavy 90-degree weather of the Deep South, building homes among a group of people I barely knew, then I would've not been chosen for this trip at all.

And New Orleans has become a place of home for me. I think about that trip so often, and I think about the littlest things. They're the things that make me happiest.
Snoballs (especially my Hurricane-flavored one). Me holding up Aubry as we got the job done. The lunches underneath the houses. The day in which the port-o-let was sucked out and cleaned. Wheelbarrows. Screws. Nails. Beignets. Bourbon Street. Mr Schoch singing "Baby Got Back" and pulling a Z-formation. Line-dancing with Jeff Gutzweiller. OmNom (I seriously think about that dog, out of the blue).

Another way in which I've grown into my own was by realizing who I treasured in my life...and how some didn't treat me as well as people could have.

I learned that I was giving a lot to someone that never gave anything in return other than a "thank you so much." I figured that if I just kept on giving and being as good of a person as I could be, then maybe I'd win his heart. I tried to put myself in his shoes and do all the things that would win ME over, if I was him.

Looking at it in retrospect, while I wouldn't call it pathetic, it's still painful. And to think that I was totally blind to it...
The old adage is true, that "love is blind." Blindness comes in many different forms, too. And while I know that this was not love by any stretch of the imagination, it was still infatuation, and it still hurts to remember how I was willing to do absolutely anything by means of a good deed in order to earn his attention.

Do he and I talk, anymore?
Yes, seldomly. It's funny how, after looking at someone a certain way for so long, something changes and you're asking yourself "Wow, what did I see there?"
And that's perfectly okay. Because it only opened up the door for someone else, someone who treats me like I should be treated without me having to try and win him over.

In 2010, I didn't "become" anything, because people never stop growing. But I certainly have blossomed into someone that is growing and living in the most positive way that she knows.

There's been some hurting (directed at me as well as being directed from me), there's been some helping, there's been some laughter as much as there's been tears.

I continue to learn how to love in all the different ways that life has to offer. I know it sounds cliche and kind of corny, but living life, for all that it is, is the best thing in the world for me. It's a no-brainer to prefer to be alive rather than dead, but being alive and soaking it all in is what makes everything fantastic.

The next 12 months are going to be stellar. Even the worst moments are going to be stellar. I just feel it.

God, am I an optimist or what?

A Good Thing.

I haven't written.
Last year, I would always write stream-of-consciousness kind of stuff. And this year it seems like I can't write anything.
Part of it is time, and how busy I've been. I got caught up in actually DOING stuff so much that I hardly found time to sit down and just think.
I didn't even write my novel for NaNoWriMo. Shame, shame.

But lately I've wanted to write. In the way I did last year.

--

In the past few months, I have felt myself grow up. I would read things I wrote last year - even this past summer - and I want to slap my then-self across the head. I was ridiculous, selfish, and thoughtless with the things I would write sometimes.

I remember thinking how I used to grow as a person while writing. But I was wrong.
In these past few months, when I didn't write, I've grown so much more in ways that truly matter. I've often had to sit back and realize how much of a different person I am now.

That is what I hope life is supposed to be like. Constant growth, constant change...with important things (the things you can't see with your eyes) remaining constant as a heartbeat.

--

In the last month, I have lost a friend. I've known this person for twelve years now. We met in kindergarten, we were in Girl Scouts together, we shared absolutely everything with one another. No matter what happened between us, we would always forgive each other and move on. It was almost like the kind of friendship you found only in a storybook.

But then...a twist in our plot occured and we parted a little sooner than I had expected.

I remember how vindicated I felt when I sent her a note, telling her that I was not about to be bogged down by her old ghosts concerning Seth, and that I wanted to take a break for a while.

It just...felt so good to stand up for myself. To say, "Look - I'm tired of dealing with your bullshit. Nobody's getting anything out of this other than hurting one another, intentionally or otherwise, so just stop it."

While I have a feeling that she and I will encounter each other again someday, I'm pretty darn happy where I am right now in my life. I'm more okay now than I have been in so long.

I have wonderful friends from all walks of life, good communication between my family, I'm involved in wonderful activities in my high school, I'm going to college next year, and I have a boyfriend who makes everything fall into place in the healthiest way.

I remember about a week into Seth and I being together, Dr Dawson ran into me in the hall one morning and asked me if I had coffee for breakfast. He said, "You just look so...perky, for some reason."

Funny, the things you don't notice about yourself until someone else points them out to you.

--

Just because you're happy doesn't mean you're permanently floating in air, your problems far away.
I have discovered that it is possible to keep your feet on the ground and your head together...while being happy beyond what you could've ever imagined.
Do I know where this'll lead or how long it'll last? No - but it doesn't matter.

I'll take it anyway. This is a good thing.

--

Remember when I said that I saw things differently than I did even just a few months ago?
Or maybe I didn't say that at all...but you get it.
Anyhoozle.

At the Christmas Concert about a week ago, I was walking down the hall with Mom and Seth when I saw Andy Sturm walking toward me with a big smile on his face. I greeted him and he gave me a big, bone-crushing hug that I wasn't expecting from him.

Now, this next part I did not see, but Mom told me two days later...
Apparently when Andy gave me that hug, Seth walked on with Mom, and Mom said that Seth's face looked like his little heart was breaking. Mom wanted to tell him, "No, don't worry, it's okay..."
When she told me that, after me not even noticing it (when I came back to Seth's side, he looked perfectly normal and happy to have me there), I felt like the worst girlfriend ever.

Unconsciously, I somehow got the hint that I had to place some establishment. When Andy came back, I immediately said "Andy, I'd like for you to meet my boyfriend, Seth."
Apparently I said the magic words, the title that Seth now had in my world. I watched as Andy and Seth shook hands in that awkward stand-five-feet-away-from-each-other way that guys do, and as Seth slid back to my side, I noticed something else.

It might've been for a fraction of a second - had I blinked, I might've missed it. But I saw a flash of something cross Andy's eyes as he kept on looking at me, then at Seth, then back at me again. There was something in his eyes that I had never seen before in him.

Was it jealousy? Was it defeat?
It was sort of like a look that silently said, "Huh...so this is the guy."
No matter what it was, it was just so very strange. If I had more guts in me than I do, I would've said to him (which I'm doing now, I guess) exactly this:

"You had your chance, man. You had a MILLION chances. Now go and be happy with the girl you're with now...and care for your baby daughter."

I wish I knew how to break the tension that was filling the air.
I was facing a young man I was head over heels for last year...
...and I was standing next to a young man that makes me happy beyond measure simply because he fits into my life in such a way that I can't really describe it.

I mean, how do you think of small talk while all of this is blowing through your mind?
Looking at someone you once thought was the bee's knees not so long ago...and thinking, "Did I REALLY think of them that much?"

Not to say that Andy isn't my friend and that he isn't a good person, innately.
He is...but I just don't know how to regard him anymore. And that kind of makes me sad. I realized it would've been better to know him more as a friend rather than as that day at the Canal, had either of us wanted to potentially pursue a relationship. In my sixteen-year-old mind, that day had become my main reflection of Andy. And now, looking back on that, I realize that was very naive and self-destructive of me.
Because that day will never happen again. And I'm perfectly fine with that.

That is a very big difference between Seth and all of the other boys that I've liked.
Seth and I were best friends for about a year before we became a couple. We still keep that "friendship" part alive, too, which is the really cool thing about all of this.
We jokingly make fun of each other, we're not afraid to be silly and stupid together, he is patient with me as he teaches me card games (everything from Hearts to Magic: the Gathering), we don't mind that one likes diamonds while the other likes pearls or that one will eat pretty much anything while the other only eats American and Chinese, for the most part.

But anyway.
I think about Andy's face, and the way that I broke Caleb Tucker's heart.
It makes wonder how to maintain friendships with these two guys. I know that I'll learn eventually, but it's so interesting...seeing who makes that leap of faith and who doesn't. And there are so many different ways to leap, too.

So many ways to grow, so many different people to witness it. You have to give those people credit. Watching growth isn't easy - especially for adolescents and young adults because it can get so snarly and bruised. So much confusion.

Some of us are flowers. You know, you flourish in great glory for a while, but then you die for a time. But there's always that promise that you'll return as glorious as you were before. You give optimism and hope. No matter what happens, everyone knows that you'll bounce right back. You are spread all over when the wind blows. You are contagious in the best way.
And others are trees. You're planted, and you keep on growing. You go through seasons of warmth as well as seasons of vulnerability. But you keep on growing, and you only get bigger and greater as you get older. Your brances reach further out and you begin to have little pieces of yourself spread to anywhere that the wind blows.

...wow, what IS it with me and metaphors? Mr Potter, I'm sorry I can't seem to use this stuff when I write for your AP class.

--

Maybe I can't always keep everyone that once meant the world to me, especially if I don't see them in the same light as I used to. Oh well - that's a part of life, I guess.

Not quite sure how to end this right. I ended up jumping from topic to topic like I used to.
Hey - I guess I did this right, after all.

Happiness, happiness.