I guess you could say this month was a good one. I got closer to my close ones, and let go of the ones that didn’t belong in my life. I learned a bit this year, not only academically, but emotionally as well. Highlights of this month were.. Well, there weren’t a lot, but I praise God for getting me through the trials & tribulations. Fingers crossed for February to be great.
I don’t think you can really define it; there isn’t a set definition of what it means. I suppose the only ones who know its definition are those who are actually in it, actually feeling it, you know? Being in love isn’t about what you do, it isn’t about what you say, it’s about how you feel. There are lots of definitions of being in love, each person looks at it with a different perspective. Love is love.
I loved every single second of today! I was in a good mood the whole day & I smiled a lot more than usual. The littlest things put the biggest smile on my face and I was just really thankful for everything today.
It’s definitely something special when you have those friends that you can just hit up and have a decent conversation with, without having to worry about it being awkward.
Throughout the years, I’ve come to learn that trust doesn’t come easy. So it’s really nice when I can be comfortable enough with someone to the point where I can tell them anything and know that it would be safe with them. I don’t trust people easily, so I’m very grateful to have the VERY select few that I’m extremely comfortable with.
I also love how I can talk to those select few about ANYTHING, and they won’t judge me. They’ll laugh with me, AT me, yet can still understand where I’m coming from.
I’m not gonna lie: the little things mean the most to me. The things we tend to be ungrateful for, the things we take for granted, I try to appreciate more. Not everyone is able to have a roof over their head, nor clothes to wear, nor food to eat. Not everyone has clean water or fresh air. We tend to think of these things as paltry, yet they have a large significance in our lives. I value them because I know there are those who don’t have it as easy as I do. I think we all just have to remember that.
It’s so hard for me to sleep at night for some reason. I’m more of a night owl rather than a morning bird. It’s so much easier for me to sleep late at night than wake up early in the morning. I mean, I’ll wake up when I have to, but I’m extremely tired when I wake up.
Late nights cause my mind to wander a lot more than it already does in the day time. The silence resonates in my room if I don’t have music playing and eventually my thoughts drown out the silence, which isn’t always a good thing—and I think that’s why I like sleeping on the phone, or simply just talking to someone before I sleep. I feel safer that way and it helps me clear my mind.
I don’t know. This post makes no sense.
Point is, I just don’t like the nights where I can’t fall asleep.
I have been thinking a whole hell of a lot lately.
My stream of consciousness is at its finest right now, scattering my thoughts in every which way. I’ve been thinking about everything and anything; so many questions to be answered, and so many decisions to make.
I really don’t want to mess up my chances with you, if I haven’t already.
I’m sorry if I say the wrong things sometimes or do things that you don’t like, but I’m more than willing to change that. I just want to keep you interested in sticking around because I know I don’t want to hurt you; I just want to make you happy. Seeing you in a good mood is the most important thing to me and I will do whatever I can to make sure you’re always satisfied.
Packing boxes, transporting furniture, etc. We have so much crap and my mom always moves to/from the top floor of an apartment complex, so moving is a little bit harder than it usually is, if you’re moving from a house or something.
We ALWAYS move. I kind of hate it. I crave stability.
The new place we’re moving to is cute, though. Better than this place we’re cramped up in. Gonna decorate my room up the way I’ve always wanted to. The only downside is that we’re moving near Oakridge, so it’s gonna take me 25 minutes to get to school the weeks I’m with my mom. Oh well.
Hopefully we stay at this place for a while and don’t have to go through this whole process again any time soon.
I hate having so many emotions that I just can’t blog about them because I don’t know how to word it. It’s one of those things where.. The only way you’d understand how I’m feeling or what I’m going through, is by being me. It’s that simple.
Words are inadequate; you can’t just get into my head by reading what I type up on this site. You can’t even figure out exactly how I feel by talking to me in person. You can comprehend my surfaced emotions, but you can’t begin to fathom how it is inside.
I don’t even think this post is making sense.
Point of the matter is, sometimes I’m complicated to understand. I, myself, haven’t even figured myself out. Will I get there? Hopefully.
All the people passing by made the place busy and buzzing. But in a matter of seconds, they disappeared. For a second it looked like everything was a blur. That’s when I saw her. She was the only one I saw clearly.
I had seen her everyday for a few months now. Always in this same spot as before, but never this close, and never this happy: skipping gleefully down the bridge, as if there was something to be so overjoyed about.
I looked at my surroundings: red and orange leaves disappearing off the trees. A slight breeze made the leaves do a little dance around me. It was quite peaceful, I admit; nothing but the wind. Nothing but me and that girl. I lay back on the tree behind me, watching the leaves fall. I couldn’t help but wonder why the girl was so happy. Shoving my hands into my jacket pockets, I noticed the breeze was growing stronger. I took note of the fact that the girl wasn’t wearing a sweater, or pants for that matter. What she had on was a sleeveless pink shirt and a bright pink skirt. She’s insane, I thought. It’s frickin’ cold. But I also thought she was.. interesting. I watched her skip down the bridge, touching the ice cold river water as she passed by. Living in her own little world. There’s nothing on earth she could be this happy about.
I decided to act casual and walk by her; it’s not like I had anything better to do. I started to take hesitant steps to where she dawdled; she was now playing with a fallen leaf. Right before I reached the part of the bridge she was on, she dropped the leaf into the water and watched the icy stream take it for a trip. I took the chance when she wasn’t looking to take a spot a few feet away from her, both of us now leaning on the bridge side. She felt my presence, I was sure of it. I could tell by the way her fingers danced at her sides. She looked as if she was pondering a thought. As was I, trying to think of words to break out in this uncomfortable silence. Something strange attracted me to her, this stranger I always saw but never met. I glanced over at her: jet-black locks, curly layers at her side.. they covered part of her face and hid her eyes. But I could see her skin shivering, as if knowing she was cold but didn’t care.
“You cold?” I finally said, breaking the everlasting silence.
At the very sound of my voice, I could see a bright smile forming on her face from behind her dark locks. But yet, no response. I thought about her actions.. what was wrong with her? She was happy.. but I didn’t know why. She was cold.. yet she didn’t want to wear a sweater. Her smile slowly faded as we both saw the sun setting on the east side, the side we were facing from the bridge. The joyful girl I had witnessed but a few minutes ago was now gloomy and depressed.
“Is.. something the matter?” I asked softly, afraid of what she might reply. A single tear rolled down her soft cheeks, glistening as it reached the end and dropped slowly on the bridge.
Damn. I made her cry and didn’t even know how. I was tired of being in this state of confusion.
“Why were you so happy? Why didn’t you wear a sweater if you were cold? Why did you suddenly become sad? Why are you crying?” I think I was pretty straight forward with my questions.
A smile once again spread on her face. What the hell was I saying that made her smile?
“I was happy because my wishes came true, my prayers were granted. I didn’t wear a sweater because my happiness overcame me and made me forget about all other feelings. I became sad because that happiness wore off..”
She finally spoke.
It sent tingles down my spine once her soft and gentle voice entered my ears. But why was she crying? It seemed as if she didn’t want to answer that, because it took a while for her to speak again.
“Why were you crying?”
Asking questions straight-up had gotten me somewhere, so what damage could it do now?
It looked like her world had stopped: her fingers tightened on the bridge; her hair was beginning to lose the gentle flow it once had; her smile wiped off, and this time, for good. She turned to me, so I could finally get a good look at her face. Damp, soft, beautiful. Her eyes glistened as she caught sight of me, but not from tears.
I was dumbfounded by her answer but couldn’t argue once she gently yet quickly learned towards me and planted a small kiss on my lips. I closed my eyes for the split second she did, hoping her lips would have stayed connected to mine forever. I felt my burned up face and lips where hers had touched mine. I opened my eyes, but she was no longer there. I just stood there, trying to figure out where she might have gone.
The very next day I went back to the same spot by the tree I was on before, hoping to see that girl again, but she didn’t show. Not that day, nor the next, nor the next, nor the next. Until it started to snow, I watched everyday the same spot our lips met, hoping she would come out of nowhere and play with the leaves, dropping one in the lake.
I kept coming back for another week before my parents told me it was too cold to be standing outside. I would have ignored them if I still had any hope of seeing the girl once again.
It was that same day that I saw someone standing by the bridge. I knew it was a woman, or lady, or girl. But the snow prevented me from telling any more than that. Ignoring my parents’ orders, I rushed outside, almost reaching the figure bent down over the bridge, just to discover it wasn’t her. I had ran all the way there, and decided to just stand on the bridge, next to the lady. I looked onto the river, the river of painful memories. I slowly felt a tear slipping down my cheek, and watched it plop down into the water. But I noticed my tear was not the only one dropping into the stream.
I slowly turned my head to find out the lady next to me was a woman, and she was weeping.
“Excuse me, ma’am, if I may ask.. why are you crying?” I asked her softly.
She slowly turned her head towards me, baring a scary resemblance to the girl from before. She stared into my eyes as even more tears slipped from her cheeks, and held up a note: a small note on pink paper. The wind began to pick up and I struggled to read the note with light handwriting:
God spoke to me in my dreams the other night and said I could have one more wish before I was gone. Just one. So I thought it over and wished to find true love. Mother, you always told me love was more important than anything, so I wished and prayed and hoped I’d get to experience it before I passed away. The sickness is spreading faster, Mom.. and I prayed to God I could find true love before it was too late. And today, Mom, He sent him to me. The boy with dark hair and deep eyes. Mom, I knew it was him. I could tell it by the way he spoke, by the way he acted, and by the way he kissed me. I’m glad my wish came true.
Goodbye Mom, I love you.
My whole world shattered. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I couldn’t believe what I had just read. I fell down on my knees, showing the weeping woman I was just like her.
All this time I saw her outside, never once did I have the courage to go up to her. Never once did I talk to her. Maybe if I did sooner, just maybe, she might have had her single wish granted for a little bit longer.
I can’t fathom why this is or how my stream of consciousness leads me to think this way, but I hear music in everyday things.
If I’m just walking home or around school, basically what I hear is beats everywhere. The footsteps of people combining with random chatter and leaves rustling in the wind. It all comes together to form some type of melodic tune.
Even if I’m just sitting here, typing. Each hit of a letter on the keyboard makes a little click. Combine that with the swish-swashing of papers as my siblings do their homework and you get this beat that just resonates in your head.
I don’t know why everything comes together to make music in my head, but it does. It’s pretty fascinating sometimes, if I do say so myself.