The Yellow Box

Its been maybe a couple of years since I took out that box and looked at its contents. And I am crying to make things worst. I mean...why? It was my decision to make things the way they are, although, deep down inside I have been hoping for the past three years to be wrong.

When I was a junior in high school, my biggest concern was to maintain my relationship a secret. We would wake up at about the same time, him for work and me for school. The best part about waking up was that he would always send me a good morning kiss. This seems like so long ago. I guess my mind blocked a lot of things because my heart was not willing to suffer the pain of the loss. To be very honest, I think I've forgotten most of it, which is why it doesn't bother me to write all this. This is just a faint memory I deal with... everyday.

There is one thing I do remember perfectly and that is the kiss competitions we would have. Its silly, I know, especially because they were just texts but honestly, back then, it meant the world to me. Most of the time I did outstanding in my classes. I was in a senior class, a college credit class, a second level language class,  floral design, speech,  and journalism. I had been told my sophomore year that my junior year would be my hardest, and yet, I found it my easiest year. My only worry was to pass my classes and to maintain that secret. Meanwhile, I wrote.

I had this notebook. It was little and with colorful stripes on the cover. That notebook was my everything notebook. In it, I wrote to him and myself. When class was boring, I would pretend to take notes in it; when I was bored, I wrote in it; when something happened, I wrote in it; when I needed to remember something, I wrote in it. To me it was like having him there with me. At first it was just me pretending, but later on I decided I actually wanted him to see how I 'had him next to me' basically all day. Eventually I started directing my entries to him.

That notebook was also numbered. It wasn't the regular pg. 1, 2, 3, etc. that you find in any book. Remember, this was about him and me. The pages were numbered backwards. Each number represented the days left until my 18th birthday, when we could finally be together. Sometimes I forgot to number (and date) the pages, so I would literally recount the days one by one. At that time it seemed like forever. It seemed like a lifetime, like it would never get there, or like time was not going by fast enough. Most of all, I craved to be by him.

The very few times we got to see each other were magical. I couldn't get pretty enough to my  standards, and yet, when we finally saw each other, his eyes would talk to me. Only I could understand them. This trait I learned to master with him. Its true when they say the eyes are the mirror to the soul and sometimes, our souls speak louder than our words. His eyes would tell me I looked beautiful, that I was in fact the most beautiful girl in his eyes. He could tell me he love me with those eyes of his. He could just stare at me  and not say a word the whole time. With those eyes I knew he was in love and so was I. I wanted so badly to hold his hand, to feel safe next to him. One thing he would never fail to do was whisper into my ear, loud enough for me to hear only, our secret. He would tell me "you look so beautiful," and instantly I would smile. He could make me smile with the most simple things.

We made a lot of promises and a lot of plans for the future. I guess that's what we would talk about on the phone or text. This is one of the things I can't remember well. I know we would text all day and talk during the night when everyone was asleep. I got caught maybe three times and of course, I lied and got in trouble but kept doing it anyways. Not a single person in this world could keep me away from him. In our phone calls he would sing The Scientist to me and sometimes wait until I fell asleep. He doesn't know it, but sometimes when I knew he was tired, I would pretend to fall asleep while he sent kisses until he hung up. I'd be awake but felt bad for keeping him awake since he was tired. I know I did most of the talking a lot of times. I talk a lot. He listened. We were both so good at having our conversations like that but sometimes I would get mad because I wanted him to tell me something. Gosh, I can't really remember why I would get frustrated so easily, I guess, like many things that were wrong with us, I was too young.

He really did mean the whole entire universe to me. He gave me butterflies just to think of him, he would bring smiles to my face in my daydreams. There was not a single second in my day that I did not think of him. I haven't loved anyone like that since then. I grew up and realized I wanted to pursue other things, I wanted to be young and innocent, I wanted to live life a little, I wanted to make mistakes and learn from them, I didn't want life to be predictable. Maybe I was being ambitious. Maybe I was scared. Maybe I wanted to be proven wrong. My life all of a sudden started going by so fast and it felt like I had no control to where it was going. I had wanted for three years to be with him. When he rejected me three times, I conformed with his friendship, as long as he was in my life I was happy. When it finally happened, it was the best time of my life. Unfortunately for me, once I felt like I could no longer breathe, I let him go.

I am so stupid.

Its too late now. We are friends again and I made him promise me he would never share our story with any of his future girlfriends, not even his wife. He is MY past and he had MY heart and no one has the right to have anything that is mine unless I give it to them. I wanted to remain a shadow in the past. No one ever stops to think of a shadow, its not important. All I have that I didn't destroy is a little yellow box with some things he gave me. I keep it locked and I hide the key where I won't remember. Its almost as if I wanted to keep that in the past, but I can't anymore. I am being replaced and the only thing that is still bonding me with him is that little notebook. I don't want him to have it because its like a sacred symbol of my love to him. A love that until now I realize, has never left me. Who knows where he keeps the notebook or if he still has it. I can't help to think that he does have it and he will keep it until that other girl gives him something, then that something will be the most special thing he has and it will replace the sentimental value that the notebook once had for the both of us. I can take being replaced, but that notebook means a lot more to me than what he can even begin to imagine. I cannot, and I repeat, I cannot live with the thought of being compared, or better yet, to have that present be compared or outdone by anything else. I have thought of it long and hard and I have come to the conclusion that if I don't get that notebook back, I will never move on and I will literally die of sadness. Let's be honest, no one I actually know reads this blog, so no one will ever know.

Now I can't stop crying...

Ten Years of Existance

She didn't need the traffic report on the radio to tell her that it would take the same 56 minutes to get from her office to the safety of her home. After all, she had been driving through that hell for three years. When the counselors talked to her class about all the wonderful perks of going to college and getting a diploma, they forgot to mention that working in a cubicle also included headaches of traffic. It wasn't like any day was any faster. Every afternoon after cleaning up her desk, she would get on the elevator, press the parking garage button, walk to her car, and hope so dearly that the traffic was just traffic and not a car accident. A car accident could take up an extra half hour or more depending on how severe the accident was. However, that was selfish, she thought, and yet cared not one bit. All she wanted to do was get home, take off her uncomfortable office clothes and lay on the couch just for ten minutes of relaxation. This afternoon was no different than the rest. She could not get on the carpool lane, just like the rest of the drivers. In moments like that she wished the city would build subways. No matter how crowded they got, they still circulated just as fast with no traffic. The heat outside was another factor contributing to her traffic headache. Her car thermostat read 101F. Even though the temperature seemed normally high, it felt worse. She could feel sweat running down her back, accumulating in a cloud right above her waist. Her AC was on high but the sun's rays penetrated through her windshield mocking her attempts to stay somewhat cool. No matter how hard she tried to drive fast, the person in front of her would eventually break bringing her to a slow stop.

When she reached her exit she felt relief. Almost instantaneously she felt cooler and more relaxed. Getting off the freeway was always a relief, especially in that heat. The slower her car drove, the harder it was for the AC to stay cool. In ten more minutes she would be out of that inferno and into the embracing arms of her couch, cool and welcoming. Ever since she started working at the firm, she looked forward to letting herself drop on that couch. Her weight was reflected in the wrinkles of the leather, but it didn't matter. To her, that was the only place she rather be. When she pulled into her driveway she saw Sally looking through the window. Her little hairy hands played with the blinds, her leathery mouth pouting in excitement. As soon as she opened her door Sally balanced herself on her knuckles making her way to her loving caretaker.

"Hello peanut! You missed me? I missed you too." The monkey seemed to care very little about the dialogue so she put her down at the smell of her dirty diaper. She could change it later but might as well do it then. Sally was a Capuchin monkey that her uncle had gotten her when she had turned 12. "Why a monkey?" she had asked her uncle. "Because there are a lot of those in Argentina, because your brother is allergic to cats, because you don't like dogs, your mother hates rats and reptiles carry diseases." "Fish are boring" she replied. And so that became the beginning of her friendship with the little ball of fur with big eyes. Sally was very docile, unlike most household monkeys. Since she had never broken or eaten anything, she felt comfortable enough leaving her to roam around her home in a diaper. Besides, Sally just liked to sit on top of the couch by the window waiting for her pull up from work. Her mother used to tell her that Sally would do the same thing when she was in school. When it was time to move out on their own, she felt secure with her monkey and yet anxious. Monkeys don't adapt to new environments or new people. However, her uncle had told her that Sally was a special monkey for a special girl, and special she was. Once they had settled in, Sally took a look around the place and decided she didn't much care for the new place. She also didn't ever mind people. Most of the time she would go into her room and wait for the people to leave. It was very obvious that for a pet monkey, Sally was indeed special.

After the dirty diaper routine she finally got what she had long awaited for. The couch. With open arms and a cooling sensation she let herself drop into the smooth surface. She closed her eyes, kicked off her heels and decided that today she would not make dinner. Without realizing, she fell asleep. It was in her mind that she feared to get lost the most. Lately however, she kept seeing his face but hearing someone else's voice. It was never the same dream. Most of the time, there was a lot of people she didn't recognize but they all seemed to know who she was. Today though, she wasn't in the dream. It was simply a flash of his face, no voice, and a cloud of gray. What seemed like a brief minute turned into an hour had it not been for Sally. She had settled on her stomach waiting for her owner to feed her. She looked at her phone and there she saw it. One new message. Hesitant, she put the phone down on the coffee table and walked to the kitchen to fetch Sally some apple slices. The message was on her mind, however, she refused to look at it. Filled with doubt and anticipation she decided to put it off after her bath. Normally she took showers but a shower would be much too quick and she was in no hurry. Sally followed her with two apple slices on one hand. She climbed on the toilet to jump on the sink where she would wait for the steam to start rising which would be her signal to leave.

While the bathtub filled up, she went to her room and got out her yoga pants, an old t-shirt and clean underwear. Everything about her day was routine except those messages. She waited all day for the notification to pop up and when it did, she ignored it for as long as her anxiety would allow. For the time she soaked in the tub she listened to Pandora. It was almost eight when she decided she looked too much like a raisin and it was time to come out. With a towel wrapped around herself she walked to the coffee table where she had left her phone. There were two messages now, one from her sick co-worker asking about the meeting she had missed. With as much detail as possible she answered and walked back to the bathroom. She got dressed, hung her towel and took a deep breath before opening the other text. She knew the answer she wanted to get but it was unlikely she would get that response.

They had met at a gala a year ago. It wasn't an awkward meeting considering the circumstances. The firm had thrown the fête in honor of the CEO's retirement. It was a grandiose event for a man that called it a night at ten. With lots of champagne left and a plenty of hors d'ouvres, nobody seemed to mind that the person being celebrated was the first one to go home. She was standing in a corner talking to some colleagues when she spotted an old college friend.
"Well I certainly did not expect to find you here out of all places."
"Of course not. You went back to your old girlfriend and I went in search of my career."
"You know that is not how things happened Jen..." He was right. Six years in college can do a lot of good and bad to a person, especially after they become legal. She looked down a little uncomfortable at the reunion. She had been lucky to live with her parents while attending college but the man standing in front of her had made many mistakes while enjoying his time away from his home.
"I figured after graduation that you would go back to Iowa."
"Iowa had nothing for me. I go there often to see my parents but I like it here. And I knew I'd run into you at some point if I stayed."
"What about Camille?"
"She's at the bar making friends..." There was an awkward silence with the tone of the word 'friends.'
"Well at least she can fit in everywhere. Anyways, why are you here?"
"I suppose we work for the same man. Your branch must be the legal department. Mine is marketing. I'm actually over on Main St. Its close to my department and Camille is planning to move closer to town. You're still living with your parents?'
She could say no right away but instead she bit her lip and lied. The guy in front of her had sat next to her in orientation day. He didn't introduce himself, he just sat there and commented on the dean's speech. In the following weeks she would run into him a lot to the point that she gathered the courage to ask his name. To her surprise, he knew hers but by that time they had stopped being strangers. The friendship bloomed to the point that she felt no need for a girl friend or a boyfriend. She had the best of both worlds with this guy, until he met Camille.
"I always knew you'd live there until you got married." She smiled. Her dress all of a sudden felt too tight and her knees weak. "There's someone I'd like you to meet actually." She had heard him say that all throughout college. Sure, there were some cute guys, some nice guys and some duche bags, but most of the time she felt that they only approached her because he told them to talk to her. It was a strange familiar sensation that ran down her neck, like a chill but not quite.
"This is Michael. He's our tech guy"
"Hello nice to meet you."
"Jenelle." She smiled thinking he was too formal and too good looking for a tech guy.
"Michael and I go way back. He used to live next door to me. Now we work together in this big city."
Up to a point she was relieved to be away from serious business talk. Working with lawyers was no ice cream sundae, but what was worse was having conversations with them outside of work. She didn't think of them as sharks or snakes, to her they were just people walking in a trance. After some small talk he left to take Camille home. Now it was just her and this Michael stranger. She thought best to head home too, after all, it wasn't the first time she had been ditched by the same friend to take his girlfriend home. The familiar sensation crept down her neck again. She had gotten rid of several guys before with the same line.
"Well this was great but I got a little one waiting so I better go."
"You mean your monkey?" She stopped smiling. Not two hours ago she had met this perfect stranger and already he knew more about her than most people she saw on a daily basis. Speechless, she looked at him in disbelief. "Steve told me about his college buddy with a monkey. All his college stories are with that friend of his. This strange girl with a monkey."
"Well then I guess now you know. I do have a Capuchin monkey who has lived with me since I was 12."
"I'd like to meet..."
"Sally"
"I'd like to meet Sally. I've already heard half the stories about you and Sally. I know you now so I'd like to meet Sally." She smiled at that, got up, shook his hand and warmly said "maybe."

Following that meeting came a lot of phone calls from Steve. Nowhere in her mind did the idea of a re-encounter fit. She was a busy woman: Four out of six day she would bring work home, she taught a kickboxing class on Saturday mornings and took a Mandarin class on Thursdays at the community college. Sally also kept her busy even though she was not a messy or destructive pet. Sundays she would spend the day at her parent's house and the rest of the time she liked to read novels. Her schedule had been like that for three years and she liked it. Physically and mentally it drained her and she told herself she liked that lifestyle. There were no distractions and no unnecessary worries. She liked the idea of knowing what to expect out of her schedule as ironic as it seemed. Truly though, she was screaming for change. In her many attempts at dating, she had found that not only did it make her nervous, it also seemed ordinary. She was like most girls who dream of their wedding but unlike the rest, she didn't want to try so hard all the time. Instead, she figured that if she kept busy all the time, she would be able to find excuses to avoid dating. When the time seemed right, she would know. 

Steve, however, seemed to think it was always time. He seemed to think that her train was leaving and if she didn't make up her mind, it would be too late. His goal was to introduce her to the "right" one but after six years he had only introduced her to the "same" one. She wasn't interested in a guy who could tell just any girl they were beautiful and special. So far no one had managed to make her believe that she was indeed the most beautiful or the only special one. Now, a year later she could only think of one thing. Him.

She opened the message.

"Its for Steve,"  she read. "I know,'" she replied. A month ago he confessed his feelings towards her. They had been talking, unwillingly, after the gala and to her surprise, he was more amusing as a friend than a love interest. She was happy with that, there was no feeling of compromise and she knew he wasn't interested either. It was a relief for many months for both of them and they ignored their feelings until a month ago when he couldn't keep it inside anymore. She had given it a thought or two but had decided to keep it inside worried that the friendship might get ruined. However, they were past the point of no return when he kissed her one Friday night at her house. They usually went out to dinner on Fridays, except that Friday there were preparations being made in the city for a big parade and most places had closed early, so they went to her house instead. The kiss took her by surprise, it seemed to her like they had had too much wine, but when he apologized, she knew he was well aware of what he had done. He grabbed his tie and left her there sitting on the carpet with Sally watching from a distance. She had pushed him away after that and now the tables had turned on her. She couldn't get him out of her head and it was him this time pushing her away. Life works in strange ways, giving us a taste of goodness and then taking it away if we hesitate to enjoy it. She knew she wanted to go to Steve's bbq on Saturday. She knew she would be done with everything at work by the next morning. She knew she had told Steve she would go. What she didn't know is how to gather the courage to see him an entire afternoon and ignore her feelings the whole time. Even so, on Saturday afternoon she put on her khaki shorts, an denim sleeveless shirt, picked up her hair, slipped on some flats and with bright red lipstick she made her way to Steve's.

She rang the doorbell, waited a minute impatiently with her hands gripping on each other behind her back, and there he was, standing on the other side of the door smiling at her.

"Hi."


-I.M.

A Very Broken Cake

It seems to me that the older I get the less I blog. Actually, that seems to be the case of other bloggers. Maybe its just the type of blog I follow. When I started to blog I had no idea what exactly this would turn out to be. Later it just became an analysis of people and life in general. Sometimes I wrote things I couldn't say outloud and sometimes I wrote as an outlet of my emotions. Techinically this could be considere my diary, except I chose to show it to the world. Frankly, I don't mind too much that people read it mainly because I know that no one really reads it. At least no one that I personally know. At one point I was writing for the boy who was my first relationship. Yeah I said it. I had a relationship.

I wish I would have been older when it happened. I wished I would have been ready. I really honestly wish that I hadn't been scared. I sort of wish I hadn't ended it as well. Only too bad for me because people don't stick around forever.

Lately I think too much about what I'm going to write and how I am going to write it. I doesn't come to me as naturally as it used to. It used to be so easy to just sit here and vent to my imaginary audience and I would feel good right after. Well I don't need to do that anymore. All I have to do is go to sleep. If I am sleeping I can't think of what is bothering me. I don't even dream about it. It just goes away and then I wake up and pretend the problem is not there until I am forced to face it again.

I've been observing a lot of couples lately. Then I found a meme saying "I talk about having a boyfriend but I don't even know what I'd do with one, like do you just kiss him and then leave him alone in a corner, how often does it eat?"  So basically I realized that its not that I don't want a boyfriend. I mean who doesn't like to feel like the prettiest girl? Who doesn't want to be in someone's thoughts the whole day? Who doesn't want to feel the butterflies? The reality is that if I were to get a boyfriend I really wouldn't know how to treat it. Like, I wouldn't know what to do in a relationship. It got me to think how my summer is going and basically its been a bum.

My summer basically has consisted of me going to summer school, getting my heart broken, getting over it and not getting a tan.

I basically fell for my rock. Strong in every sense of the word. Gentle and funny. Caring, spiritual, honest. All the stupid cliche. Only too bad for me that the feelings were mutual and they didn't get closure. Its the stupid story of the guy who has goals and the girl who has goals and they can't meet halfway so they have a very awkward friendship. I feel so stupid you know? I am blogging about someone who played me and who took advantage of my feelings. Well that's how I feel at least. I give this guy too much credit, I gave him the benefit of the doubt only to have my feelings rubbed and mocked in my face. Overnight. I wish I would have done things differently, I wish I would have listened to my best friend, I wish I would have been more reserved and formal. I wish I would be in a foreign land so I couldn't communicate with anyone. That thought gives me a lot of happiness.

I've been doing well attaching myself to my new congregation. They were gone over the week for our convention. Unfortunatelly being the lazy sloth that I am, I had no money to afford the trip and had to suck it up in the spanish for a week. Even though it was two meetings and a service day it felt like an eternity. I am so glad they are back! This separation made me realize how whole I am with them and how much they mean to me. Its been good in the whole integration thing. Today for example I made a cake for the pioneer school. Only too bad that I had to drive it super far because the cake broke in four and it made a mess. Oh but did I mention it was the favorite and that everyone wanted to try it and take a piece home? That's because if I can do one thing well is baking. I know its unhealthy but its relaxing to me. I do it for therapy.

Since summer started and my favorite show is over for the season, I had to get into new shows. One of them is Girl Code. That show makes sense out of my life. No, actually it makes sense out of being a girl. My favorite so far is the code that says " exes are like a bad resume; you don't show them to new bosses." Its also given me the courage to speak my emotions rather than just writing them. It helped me especially in the situation with this last crush. We got some closure even though I don't think he fully understands why I am so offended by his behavior. But what's a broken cake unless it has good icing to cover up the cracks? It still tastes delicious. Well, what's a broken heart without a facade? You still have some fun in the end, or at least until the feelings go away completely. In my case I can say that I am being stupid because I still like the dude. A year later when I read this I will think I was so stupid, so technically I am writing this on purpose. Yes, I had a crush this summer and it lasted for a week. End of story. Oh and I make awesome cakes.

And the Walls Come Crashing Down

It finally happened.

When I was a senior in high school I liked this guy. Seriously one of the dumbest feelings in the world was to like a guy who did not believe the things I valued the most. Its not like he was a bad person, but in the end he was an outsider and that made things awkward. I didn't mean to start liking him, especially because I knew he was an outsider; actually, I wanted to match him with my friend. You see, she had never had a boyfriend before and we were about to graduate. I figured if I got to know him I would eventually find a perfect way to set them up. The only problem was that I did not know he had a girlfried. When I finally figured it out it was because the girl's friend went up to her to tell her that hey boyfriend was cheating on her with me. Me. I'm always getting into stuff because people don't stop to ask me anything. You see, the girl sat with us at lunch and heard me saying I was going to hook him up. She thought I meant me then went and told the girlfriend who then ran in the classroom and cried for the entire calculus lesson. At that point I stepped back realizing how much drama I had unintentionally created. A few days later they broke up and I was the go-to person for that boy. A few days later he got back with the girl. A few after they broke up again. For the time being I had started to speak to the guy in a more personal level. My friend being as uninterested as she was, left me talking to the guy. I mean, I really wanted to talk to him. That was it for a while, then he got a new girlfriend. By then I was already very confused. I was his go-to friend with all his girl drama. He wanted me to make him forget. I could do that. In fact, I did it very well. We could text all day and literally I would just sit there and wait for him to text me. He always did. I didn't feel special, I felt like just part of the bunch. I knew in my head that it would never happen to me, that it SHOULDN'T happen. He was an outsider. After he broke up with his new second girlfriend, he went back to the first. I was getting used to his game until he finally decided he didn't wan to play it anymore and dumped both the girl and the idea of a relationship. After all, he had me. I would do anything to get this boy to talk to me, to look at me. I never had the need to do that. At that point, I just chose to do that. I wanted to get to know him, all his good and bad habits, his dreams and aspirations, his hates and obsessions. So one day I tried calling him. We had a very awkward conversation. How could it be that in person and in text we could talk but not over a phone call... I figured I had no chance. I should just accept the idea that I was forever friendzoned. Until one day he said he liked me. I was frozen. I even remember that I was at McDonalds with one of my adopted cousins and my mom. We took the kid to the playground and I was supposed to be watching him Instead, I was having a panic attack because an outsider liked me and I liked him. I absolutely dreaded that monday to go in to school and see him. How was I supposed to act? What were we? What was I supposed to say!!! After first period I crossed him on my way to French class and had the biggest heart attack. He waved. I waved. We kept going. Didn't even stop to say hi. By fifth period I knew I would see him again so I delayed myself on purpose trying to avoid him. One day I came in late to school because I was getting some labwork done and when I walked in everyone was taking a test. He texted me after school asking me why I had to come in late looking all cute trying to get his attention...Again, major hear attack. Turns out that after several weeks of nothing, he went back to his first girlfriend. I realized then that I was not special to him. I was just the girl he went to when he had drama and wanted an exit from reality. Realizing this was not nearly as painful because we never were anything. He was simply an infatuation. I was his tissue... Two years later, after we had graduated and proceeded into our adult lives, he contacted me. He wanted to get in touch because he wanted me to give him a second chance. He said that the only thing he remembers from that time period was being happy because of me. He said I was the only one that could make him happy then. He asked me out on a date which I turned down. I mean, I grew up, I changed. You can't expect someone to hold on to feelings forever. It took me a whole week to get him to realize I was not what he wanted and eventually broke his heart. He didn't break mine in high school but I have left over feelings of being used by him. He used me to make himself feel better and at that point it was ok with me. I'm a conformist. I can conform with a lot of simple things. In high school I was afraid to have a relationship with an outsider. Now, I am afraid to have a realationship at all. But these things happen to make us realize we are human. Even writing about this makes me feel so stupid. Lamest story ever but it happened!

The one thing I have been avoiding for three years finally happened.

I literally feel broken in two. Not half, two.

One part of me tells me its the stupidest feeling in the world.
The other part tells me its ok. It tells me I am ready.

However, to my misfortune, I think I might have shut down and now its too late. I pushed someone away afraid that I might not be good enough once they got to know me. Well now I feel like in high school. I have all these mixed emotions. I have all these unsolved feelings. All I know is that this is not what I wanted. I have been a master of avoiding and blocking feelings out of my head and my heart because I want to concentrate on two things: French and College. Those two things are my priorites. No matter how much I tell myself that, part of me says its ok to feel the way I feel. One thing is for sure. Confirmed. Absolutely aknowledged. I got butterflies. Finally. After three years, I got those stupid butterflies. In all the time tha has passed since my last what-ever-you-want-to-call-it, I had not felt those freaking bugs on my stomach. Well if finally happened but I think I might have missed my shot. I think I screwed things up for myself the way I always do. The only thing left for me to do is to wait and conform. Meanwhile, I know I'm going to be losing a lot of sleep.

Too Good for Everyone or Not Good Enough for Anyone?

LET IT BE NOTED THIS IS MY 100TH BLOG

It is yet again another lazy morning in my very prolonged break from school. Taking off a semester helped my realize two things

1. I need a better job

2. I am not a stay-at-home person

Not only was I depressed in the month of April, I was also desperate to figure out a really good topic to write in my 100th blog. I mean its an important achievement to my eyes because I've been at this blogging business for years now and after about one blog per month I have finally reached the 100th. There are however a few things I have accomplished in the time being

1. Got accepted to UHV

2. Improved my French

3. Made new and better friends

4. Realized I don't want to date until I am 25

5. Researched my ovary problem and found an excellent amount of information

6. Applied for Financial Aid

7. Saw a shooting star

8. Stood up for my rights at my current job

9. Got a new job that does things according to the law

10. I am writing my 100th blog

With all that being said and done, how come I titled my blog 'Too Good for Everyone or Not Good Enough for Anyone?' Well let me just say that I have been thinking a lot since January of this year. It happened while we were still in winter break and I had yet again, nothing to do. I was told I nagged a lot in this blog and that I should try to make this special blog funny or happy. Well if I wanted to be funny I would be a comedian so instead I am sitting here listening to Chris Martin trying so hard to make this a 'happy blog.' As far as it goes, to me it was a happy realization so to me this is a happy blog. Forgive me if I cannot please all the readers out there. 

Anyways, so in January I accompanied one of my friends to get a medical procedure done, you know just for moral support and because she was so happy with anesthesia that she said a few unmentionable things. I have often thought that if I were in a hospital, who would I like to see. I don't really believe in everyone coming to see me because I tend to think people are being morbid and just want to see me out of curiosity. Hopefully my friend thought that we were there because we wanted to support her and not because we were being nosy. A few days later my parents celebrated their 30th anniversary so my sister, some friends and I decided it would be nice to throw them a party. Like all parties, things backstage went so bad but in stage things seemed ok. As for the people that showed up I consider them true friends because they supported our ridiculous idea and lack of good music. Turns out that as we were taking pictures someone decided to yell out 'sloth face'. Basically that is a perverted and stalkerish look. Of course its an inside joke so some people in the picture looked confused because they did not know what in the world a sloth face looks like. That was  exactly what got me into thinking until finally yesterday when I reached my conclusion and decided to write about it.

Too many times I have written about friends and friendships. I guess its my topic of interest; unlike when I was in high school and my topic of interest was dating. I wish I could have realized this before I assumed that I was part of something special, a group.  (This is the point in the blog that I get nervous and start to write around the subject so that people won't hate me...)

When I was in the 9th grade I met some very incredible people. Some of those people I am still friends with until today and I consider them my absolute friends because they put up with me in my crazy days...which is like everyday. I've admitted before to having a very difficult personality and it seems to me that the older I get the harder it is to tame me. I even told one of my friends that I would marry the man who could tame me and keep me ignorant of the taming. Well, in the 9th grade I was very young and dumb and naive. Everything was new to me. Like I puppy, I wasn't afraid of anything and I was open-minded and open-hearted. MY MISTAKE! If I had been a little more cautious I would have saved myself from a lot of heartache but alas, that is how I learn. Until this day I think I've struggled to literally keep people in my circle of friendships. It seems to me like everyone is on temporary stay. After a while I stop to actually look at people and start finding human error. MY MISTAKE! That is, until they do something to really annoy me and I just kinda slip away before they leave me hanging on a loop. I guess I expect too much of people because I am willing to do THAT MUCH for them too. That being said, I rarely give anyone the benefit of the doubt. MY MISTAKE!

The day I realized that I was being pulled into a group too exclusive for anyone, I put my foot down. Between pandas and bears, butterflies and princesses; between teasing and crushing; between lies and forgiveness, between sloths and twerking, I realized how sad and alone I felt being surrounded by this happy-go-lucky group. WHYYYYY!!!!! Why can't I just overlook everything and pretend! MY MISTAKE!

Six months ago I moved to the French congregation looking for something better. It took me about three months to integrate and finally I feel happy. I don't feel alone or like the new girl. I feel comfortable making mistakes and joking around. I feel useful and needed. I literally could not be happier with this decision. Of course in order to be part of a whole you must become the whole, so I decided I needed to go to more events with them so I went to the assembly. Boy was I in for a big loner break! I was surrounded by all these people who believe everything I believe in, all those loving people but I couldn't find anyone to sit with (all seats were taken). I started to panic and almost to cry. I was about to leave when I found a seat and decided to not move. I found my twin for lunch, ate with her and at the end I found myself alone again. AGAIN. As I was about to leave I got a text from my friend saying they were all upstairs cleaning so I ran upstairs and found everyone! Then we went to eat and I was super duper happy. Next week I had to go to the Spanish assembly and even though I was with a lot of my friends, again I felt alone. All these people I hang out with and talk to...and I just could not make myself fit. Its an invisible exclusivity. That made me think of January with the sloth face joke. So I finally realized when a group is too tight, there is no room for anyone else to fit in. Being physically alone and emotionally alone are different. In one you find yourself surrounded by strangers and in the other you find yourself surrounded with people you don't connect with. My saddest realization was that maybe I was being too tight myself. I want to have a lot of friends, but I want to know that the people I chose to be friends with are not too tight.

My conclusion is to be myself but be the best of me I can be. I am human error in the flesh and it is MY MISTAKE if I chose to change who I am when I am with one group or another. I strongly believe in personality and I cannot lower my standards for anyone. After all, we are Christians and there is no room for exceptions to the rules.  

A Little Bit Stupid

Sometimes I feel like certain things only happen to me. I sit there and think of all the other things that I wish WOULD happen and that they are NOT happening. Then something unexpected happens and I'm like "Really...? This would happen to me..." But I know its not true. I think life happens to everyone and its fair to everyone. Everyone has good and bad and weird and funny and sad.

Sometimes I don't know what to say. It happens to everyone; they think and think and think and nothing comes out. As a friend I think that is one of the most imortant things to have in a friendship. When two people love each other, it is also very important to know what to say.

I'm sitting here typing with my eyes closed trying to know what to say. I hear all these words in my head; I can hear them screaming, bouncing off the walls of my brian. I think and think and think and I hear what people are saying but I can't ever say then right thing. Sometimes I hear stories in my head and I have to wake up or stop what I'm doing to write them. I never finish them though because my mind goes completely quiet. As a result I have a lot of incomplete essays. The one I miss writing them most about is the one of Peter and Evelyn. That was a great story let me tell you. I'm not being cocky, I'm just saying. I created a character that makes men jealous and a couple that makes girls sigh. Evelyn is the girl in the story everyone can relate to and Peter is the guy every girl wants. In that story I always knew what Peter had to say to make Evelyn stop hurting or smile.I think I fell in love with him at one point and to be honest...I miss him. Or at least I miss the idea of him.

I don't even know what to say here anymore! I want to say so much to the people that I care the most about! I want to tell them that I love them that I need them that I care about them! I want to tell the people that are hurting me that I hate them that I can live without them and that I don't care! Time can do a lot of good or bad to a person. It can make them bitter and cold or mature and warm. Time does change people. Its up to the person to change for the good or the bad.

Mostly I hate myself for caring. I always care too much about the things that I should give little importance. Like when a very dear friend decides to wear off the truth. I really don't want to care, I mean, I won't pay the consequences, they will. I wish I could say the right things to change their mind, I wish I could forget every moment spent and every promise. I really don't want to care! I feel really stupid right now. Probably because I am, and I want so badly to wake up and not remember a single thing that has to do with that person place or thing. I pray one day things will be different. I pray really hard to forget and forgive. I pray for patience and understanding. I have nothing left to say. I let a lot of people down and I feel the weight of all that guilt drowning me.

My friend told me to stop writing sad blogs. The truth is, I don't think this blog was ever intended to be happy. I mean, its called Inner Look to the Smile, as in, there is something behind that smile I carry and its not always good. I can't ever say the right thing but I can definitely write the right thing. I have unfinished stories of all kinds, I have unwritten emotions and unspoken thoughts. When words run out, the heart speaks and silence gives in.

In Response to "Elliot"

Previously to reading Simple Minded Nonsense: Failure I had gathered some ideas for my upcoming post. I should have waited for February (I'm about to reach the 100th post!!!) but I feel like this idea in my head was overcooking. Then I read the blog above and thought, "hmmm....I shall write!" So thanks "Elliot." You will find that sometimes people write blogs in response to other blogs. Its part of the blogging world, not as critique but mearly as a response. I don't do these often, in fact I think I've only done it like two or three times? And its been done to me three or four? I don't know...anyways its  not common but it happens. Welcome to the art of blogging.

So back to me! I was thinking on how many times I've embarrassed myself publicly. It actually happens a lot... Not because I am a socially awkward person, or because I'm dumb. It just happens! Like take the time that my sister and I thought it was ok to sing in front of an entire congregation. It was a song we had never heard before but we did it anyways. With our very bad voices. Oh and we messed up halfway through the song. Then there was that one time in the 9th grade when we were reading A Tale of Two Cities and I wasn't actually reading it, more like SparkNotes-ing it. Then we did these French research projects but I thought that the two cities meant we were all doing different cities or something. Well this one girl (the future validectorian and good friend of mine) had her project over Napoleon and at the end of her presentation I asked if Napoleon was French. No one ever forgot I asked that...

So yeah... I appreciate my friends very much because they put up with me and my embarrassing moments. My dad told me today that sometimes sincerity could be confused with envy. Well from my personal experience I can only say that I appreciate sincerity even in the worst cases. But how about when people lose their sense of loyalty? Are we obligated to continue being sincere? Or do we just let it go? Its a tough choice and I have personally concluded that no matter how bad things get, I will forever be sincere. A cruel reality can hurt but it hurts less than living a lie. Right? Then again when the loyalty is lost there is no compromise. It becomes a game of pretend. This game I call:

"The I'm-pretending-you-don't-know-that I know-you-are-ignoring-me game"

RULES:

-be as fake as you can
-be as superficial as you can
-be as cowardly as you can

This game is very common between girls but sometimes guys like to play it too. Geez, I've become obsessed with loyalty these days. I feel like a dog. Honestly I have accomplished many things that I am very proud of. I think I only want to share those golden moments with people who honestly love me and would do anything for me (as I would for them). People who know where their sense of loyalty lays..