I have been catching a LOT of flack lately for my last post. It is time to explain. First off, to you who disagree with me keeping my letters of a lost love, you are wrong. If you are surprised that I still have them, then you don't know me at all. To my sister, who is the ONLY person who has made me feel like I am not nuts, I love you. There is a reason we came down from heaven together. You know how I am, you function the same way, and we shared a womb. You have no excuse to not know how my brain works. So, I think you're wonderful.
To those who are super incorrect, I get to try to help you understand the way I work. Above all, do I have a boyfriend or husband that might be put off by them? NO. I am a single lady (all the single ladies!) who can do whatever I please with my past. And now, a little insight for you. I, am a collector of scraps. Do you know what this is? Sentimental crap. S-crap. You see?? Ha-HA-ha. I have such ridiculous random things. I have papers I wrote in 7th grade. I have a script that I read once for drama in 10th grade because I got to read it with the boy I liked. I have letters from missionaries. Not just him. I wrote a random man while he was on his mission when I was 15 or so. I have that letter. I can't even read his name.
Secondly. I love stories. I love sad stories, especially. Les Mis is one of my favorite stories in the world, and that really doesn't end well for anyone. I love my books, which I collect religiously. If I buy a book that comes with a removable cover, and I lose that cover?? I buy a whole new book. Yes, this is a sign of an issue, I think.
I also love paper, and I love writing. I love getting a new note book with fresh pages and filling them up with words and scribbles. If I could put this blog on paper and post it with as much ease as done with technology, I would do it. I have tons of notebooks. Just tons! And I brought them all with me when I moved! Once again, I know. This is a problem.
I also love my friends. Even my friends who have left me, or have not been great friends. Friends that I don't talk to them anymore, I LOVE THEM FIERCELY. They are all equally important to me. If I haven't spoken to you in years, it's good. One day, we will catch up. However, as soon a friend who is so close to me, lets me down, the devastation sets in. I am too easy to forgive. It's like that saying, Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Only, I have been fooled probably close to a hundred times. If you just remember my existence, all the bad blood is gone. Just vanished out of nowhere. It needs to stop. I am 22 years old and I ain't got time fo dat. My life is taking some unexpected turns, and they are hard to deal with. I do NOT need to catch crap from the people that I love with all of my heart. From this point on, I am finished. If I have done nothing to offend you like uh.. I call you a beezy and slap you in the face, then you have no reason to ignore me, or talk smack about me behind my back. Or judge me. Which is where I will get back on track.
I talked to 4 of the people I trust the most. These people have been with me for most of my life. Thick as thieves. But, out of those 4 people, one helped me. And guess what? It is my sister. Of course.
If you don't understand by now why I refuse to get rid of my litters, then you my just exit this page and go stage left because we are obviously not as good of friends as I thought. Or, you can accept that I collect things that I probably shouldn't. That I care deeply and fully. Throw myself into something entirely and get swallowed whole. Things in my life consume me whole. My relationships with my friends and family, my emotions, my worries. They all get the better of me.
These last few years, I have been a hard and bitter person. I am not going to lie and say that I have changed overnight. I haven't. But, that night I posted my last blog, a sweet woman who I used to be AWFUL to when I was in Young Women's said something to me. I won't share what it was, but a knot in my chest popped. I was shocked. I knew I had been carrying around the negative emotions from the past, but guess what? That pop, was the sweetest relief. I didn't realize that I would be able to feel the physically release in such real way. I thought, oh maybe my shoulders will not droop as much, and maybe my heart will feel lighter. But not, it was a pop. The pop that changed me.
After that, I read a letter, and I didn't cry. Not a single tear. I was so surprised. Those letters, no matter how innocent some were, ALWAYS brought tears to my eyes. But not this time. I read three, and all it felt like was a tender memory of a younger me. I still feel a twinge of regret about how things ended, but I can say fully that it wasn't my fault. I can also say now, that I have overcome it and come out the other end stronger and better prepared for the world.
I don't think living with a childlike outlook on life is bad. It is wonderful. But it is only realistic for a short amount of time. You can't be young forever. I mean, you can, but you have to be smart. Not naive. Which is why I am no longer going to be wasting my time with people who don't love me the way that I love them.
I don't have enough energy to sustain friendships all by myself. You can't be surprised if when you actually need me or want me, and I am not there. Because too many of my friends have let me down when I needed them. I will not be "that friend". I am NOT here for your convenience. I am here to live life with you. To share your bumps and bruises. Your tears and happiness. Your triumphs and your failures. I am here to laugh at you when you fall on your face while we skate. I am your friend.
I am not as strong as I hope I am. I want to be able to be able to brush my shoulders off and say no big deal to things. But, I feel them deeply, and they bring me down more than you know. I don't need people like that in my life. Nobody does. The Lord never intended us to make each other feel so awful. We are supposed to support and love each other regardless. I feel like I have done that. I have forgiven those who have trespassed against me seventy times seven. Now, it's not just time to forgive and forget the wrongs, it's time to forget.
I will hold tight the memories that we had together, but I will no longer try to create new ones. We won't be those kinds of people. I am not built that way. I have love enough to end a war, but I entrust it in the wrong people. So, instead, I will save it for myself to build a better me. Because I am worth it, yo!
As always, to those who read this, you are my true and real friends. No matter how many times I moan and groan about the disasters that unfold in my life, you are all there for me. I appreciate that more than you can guess! You are made of awesome, and I love you!
Monday, May 13, 2013
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
To the Boy Who Broke My Heart
Blog followers (all 3 of you..), tonight will be a somber sort of post. Sometimes, I do these things that I wonder WHY in the world I would do them, especially because I know how it is going to end. I made this poor decision this evening to read some letters from a missionary I used to write. I loved him, a lot. I waited for him, I wrote him for two years, and I thought, at the very least, we would date when he got back. His name is Arah. No. He doesn't get the courtesy of a nick name because I don't believe he deserves discretion. Only my friends I will protect from their shame. Not him, though. Not him.
A brief back story on he and I, and how our relationship developed. He was 16 (almost 17) and I was 14. Now, I am not sure at ALL how we even started speaking. I don't know if someone gave me his email and I just went for it, or what. But, we started talking on evening on MSN messenger. Do you remember those days?? Ah, what innocent bliss. We chatted for hours! From around 8 pm until 3 am. We went to sleep for a couple of hours, and by 6 am, we were chatting again. Now, I was a smart girl. I would talk to strangers, however, I wasn't one to go meet them anywhere. However, I was sooo interested in this boy. He was so nice and innocent. Sweet, like a Disney Prince.
Well, one day, we decided to meet. It was awkward for the first little while, but we played Scene It with a few of my friends. In the end, we all had a wonderful time, and my affection for him grew just a little stronger. We kept in contact constantly though out the years. When I turned 16, he took me on my first date. It was, by far, one of the best dates I have been on to this day. We walked around a pond, I took off my shoes, and he chased me and we laughed. It was perfect. One regret? I didn't let him kiss me. Now days, I don't know if it is better that he didn't, but I wish I would have.
When I was 17, he turned 19. I am sure you can guess what that means. It was time he served a mission. Before he left, he took me to homecoming. That was the only formal dance I have ever been asked to. It didn't matter to me until after I graduated. Now, it matters.
When he left on his mission, I cried. Big fat elephant tears. I was a coward and couldn't go to his house for his farewell party. I went to his talk though. It was wonderful. I still have the program.
The one part I was looking forward to were the letters. Letters have so much power. They can make your day! Or break it. Letters are a true expression of feelings in my opinion. If you are taking the time to write feelings down, that means something. And boy.. did we write our feelings down. We would end every letter with "love your guts". It escalated later on. Love your smile. Love you. We made plans. He would always tease me that I would be married when he got back. I told him, no! I was waiting for him. These are the naive thoughts of a teenage girl. But, in LDS culture, I assumed that when you waited for someone, and devoted all of that time to one human being, it meant a little more. It doesn't.
He was one of the only boys who called me beautiful, and gorgeous and I believed him. With my whole heart. I invested my whole heart into him. I didn't look at other boys, I didn't date other boys. Not at all. He made me what to be better and do better. He never understood why. I told him he was wonderful, and handsome. I adored him. When I got letters from him, I would literally scream at the top of my lungs. I would do happy dances no matter where I was. When I didn't hear from him, I worried, but only for his safety. I knew we were okay. He liked me. I liked him. There wasn't anything I had to fear.
He would tell me that when he got my letters, he glowed. That he missed his bus once because he was so excited. He would write me on trains, and tell his companions about me. He teased me, he complimented me, and he strengthened me. He liked me, even when I was going though my "emo" phase of skipping school, watching R rated movies, and cussing. I never did that around him, but he knew. And he didn't care.
When he got back, I expected him to be different. I assumed he would need some time to get his life out of the mission lifestyle. I was content to wait. To be patient. I thought he would maybe speak to me a little more than he did. But, he started to drift. He came to visit me once with his best friend, Shawn. (Hey bro!) He came to see me one more time after that. He brought his sister. It was very, very awkward.
I tagged along with Shawn to his homecoming talk. He ignored me the entire time. I literally fell asleep on the couch. And? I cried. I cried so hard. He would say he was sorry he was so busy, that he was looking for work. But, he just stopped trying. He used to tell me I was such a great friend. He said he was so lucky to have me and that I was a keeper ;). He must be a prince with the devil's tongue because I believed that.
One day, he told me he had moved to California. He was born there. I cried then, too. He just up and left. Didn't even tell me until he was already there. I would ask him straight out, if he wanted to talk. If he even wanted to be friends. He said of course. And yet, he stopped trying. In turn, I stopped trying too.
It was just a few months that he had been home, and he was dating another girl. A few months after that, they were married. And me? I have been wallowing ever since. I used to be so full of life and light. I had hope, and believed in romance and dreams coming true. That child-like part of me slowly dimmed throughout that time. Now, I am a bitter, cynical, heartless wench. Okay, maybe that is dramatic. But I haven't been happy like that since.
Now, when I have friends who have boyfriends that go on missions, I always tell them not to wait. Not to put their life on hold and miss out on going out with boys and friends. I did that. It is, by far, the biggest regret of my life. I don't regret loving him. I don't regret falling head over heels for a sweet, funny, kind boy who made me feel loved. I do regret that I didn't keep a realistic image in my head. My whole family, my friends, if I let them, would read the letters. They all thought that we would get married when he got home. A part of me wanted them to be right, but I knew I had to wait and see.
Unfortunately, what I saw and what happened has put a damper on my spirit. I haven't felt the need or desire to try living for anyone else. I can barely life my life for myself. I can hardly live it in a way that my Heavenly Father would be proud of. Instead, I am putting along with blinders on and my head down. I would fall for kind words and shining eyes at any chance. Forget if the guy was married. Forget if they didn't believe what I did. And forget it if they didn't give a rat's arse about me. I didn't care. I have been trying for 3 years now to get over this. Slowly, it seems I have been. However, I think this is something that I will carry with me for a large part of my life. Why the Lord believes I need to be alone, miserable, and borderline losing it, I don't know. I am not sure what sort of lesson I was supposed to learn from a heartbreak like this. What good did it do?? I can tell you it did absolutely nothing. Sometimes, I just want to give up on life and lie on the floor, biting my knees and just wait for the ache to go away.
It dulls, it does. But, it has stayed with me this whole time. Every once in a while, like tonight, it lashes back with such sharp force, it takes my breath away. It is my fault sometimes. I will read those letters, letters of him telling me he loved me and my smile. That he couldn't wait to see me again. German phrases that I would have to translate on google. But, I want to remember what is is like to be loved like that. It was pure. Innocent. No underlying agendas. It just was.
I am looking for that again. Something effortless and natural. Something real. But more than that, something that lasts. And I worry that I won't find anything better than what almost was with him. He was my first real love. And, I also want to punch him in his face for ruining me.
Anyways, that is enough moping for the evening. I love you guys, and hope you have a swell night.
A brief back story on he and I, and how our relationship developed. He was 16 (almost 17) and I was 14. Now, I am not sure at ALL how we even started speaking. I don't know if someone gave me his email and I just went for it, or what. But, we started talking on evening on MSN messenger. Do you remember those days?? Ah, what innocent bliss. We chatted for hours! From around 8 pm until 3 am. We went to sleep for a couple of hours, and by 6 am, we were chatting again. Now, I was a smart girl. I would talk to strangers, however, I wasn't one to go meet them anywhere. However, I was sooo interested in this boy. He was so nice and innocent. Sweet, like a Disney Prince.
Well, one day, we decided to meet. It was awkward for the first little while, but we played Scene It with a few of my friends. In the end, we all had a wonderful time, and my affection for him grew just a little stronger. We kept in contact constantly though out the years. When I turned 16, he took me on my first date. It was, by far, one of the best dates I have been on to this day. We walked around a pond, I took off my shoes, and he chased me and we laughed. It was perfect. One regret? I didn't let him kiss me. Now days, I don't know if it is better that he didn't, but I wish I would have.
When I was 17, he turned 19. I am sure you can guess what that means. It was time he served a mission. Before he left, he took me to homecoming. That was the only formal dance I have ever been asked to. It didn't matter to me until after I graduated. Now, it matters.
When he left on his mission, I cried. Big fat elephant tears. I was a coward and couldn't go to his house for his farewell party. I went to his talk though. It was wonderful. I still have the program.
The one part I was looking forward to were the letters. Letters have so much power. They can make your day! Or break it. Letters are a true expression of feelings in my opinion. If you are taking the time to write feelings down, that means something. And boy.. did we write our feelings down. We would end every letter with "love your guts". It escalated later on. Love your smile. Love you. We made plans. He would always tease me that I would be married when he got back. I told him, no! I was waiting for him. These are the naive thoughts of a teenage girl. But, in LDS culture, I assumed that when you waited for someone, and devoted all of that time to one human being, it meant a little more. It doesn't.
He was one of the only boys who called me beautiful, and gorgeous and I believed him. With my whole heart. I invested my whole heart into him. I didn't look at other boys, I didn't date other boys. Not at all. He made me what to be better and do better. He never understood why. I told him he was wonderful, and handsome. I adored him. When I got letters from him, I would literally scream at the top of my lungs. I would do happy dances no matter where I was. When I didn't hear from him, I worried, but only for his safety. I knew we were okay. He liked me. I liked him. There wasn't anything I had to fear.
He would tell me that when he got my letters, he glowed. That he missed his bus once because he was so excited. He would write me on trains, and tell his companions about me. He teased me, he complimented me, and he strengthened me. He liked me, even when I was going though my "emo" phase of skipping school, watching R rated movies, and cussing. I never did that around him, but he knew. And he didn't care.
When he got back, I expected him to be different. I assumed he would need some time to get his life out of the mission lifestyle. I was content to wait. To be patient. I thought he would maybe speak to me a little more than he did. But, he started to drift. He came to visit me once with his best friend, Shawn. (Hey bro!) He came to see me one more time after that. He brought his sister. It was very, very awkward.
I tagged along with Shawn to his homecoming talk. He ignored me the entire time. I literally fell asleep on the couch. And? I cried. I cried so hard. He would say he was sorry he was so busy, that he was looking for work. But, he just stopped trying. He used to tell me I was such a great friend. He said he was so lucky to have me and that I was a keeper ;). He must be a prince with the devil's tongue because I believed that.
One day, he told me he had moved to California. He was born there. I cried then, too. He just up and left. Didn't even tell me until he was already there. I would ask him straight out, if he wanted to talk. If he even wanted to be friends. He said of course. And yet, he stopped trying. In turn, I stopped trying too.
It was just a few months that he had been home, and he was dating another girl. A few months after that, they were married. And me? I have been wallowing ever since. I used to be so full of life and light. I had hope, and believed in romance and dreams coming true. That child-like part of me slowly dimmed throughout that time. Now, I am a bitter, cynical, heartless wench. Okay, maybe that is dramatic. But I haven't been happy like that since.
Now, when I have friends who have boyfriends that go on missions, I always tell them not to wait. Not to put their life on hold and miss out on going out with boys and friends. I did that. It is, by far, the biggest regret of my life. I don't regret loving him. I don't regret falling head over heels for a sweet, funny, kind boy who made me feel loved. I do regret that I didn't keep a realistic image in my head. My whole family, my friends, if I let them, would read the letters. They all thought that we would get married when he got home. A part of me wanted them to be right, but I knew I had to wait and see.
Unfortunately, what I saw and what happened has put a damper on my spirit. I haven't felt the need or desire to try living for anyone else. I can barely life my life for myself. I can hardly live it in a way that my Heavenly Father would be proud of. Instead, I am putting along with blinders on and my head down. I would fall for kind words and shining eyes at any chance. Forget if the guy was married. Forget if they didn't believe what I did. And forget it if they didn't give a rat's arse about me. I didn't care. I have been trying for 3 years now to get over this. Slowly, it seems I have been. However, I think this is something that I will carry with me for a large part of my life. Why the Lord believes I need to be alone, miserable, and borderline losing it, I don't know. I am not sure what sort of lesson I was supposed to learn from a heartbreak like this. What good did it do?? I can tell you it did absolutely nothing. Sometimes, I just want to give up on life and lie on the floor, biting my knees and just wait for the ache to go away.
It dulls, it does. But, it has stayed with me this whole time. Every once in a while, like tonight, it lashes back with such sharp force, it takes my breath away. It is my fault sometimes. I will read those letters, letters of him telling me he loved me and my smile. That he couldn't wait to see me again. German phrases that I would have to translate on google. But, I want to remember what is is like to be loved like that. It was pure. Innocent. No underlying agendas. It just was.
I am looking for that again. Something effortless and natural. Something real. But more than that, something that lasts. And I worry that I won't find anything better than what almost was with him. He was my first real love. And, I also want to punch him in his face for ruining me.
Anyways, that is enough moping for the evening. I love you guys, and hope you have a swell night.
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