June 5

All day yesterday, and even today, my heart would stop whenever my phone would buzz, in anticipation that I might get one last chance.  That conversation was never had and I think that might be the end of it.  I’m not going to force something that isn’t wanted.  From my point of view, it wasn’t wanted.  I drove another one away.

I didn’t do a whole lot until the early evening when I went to school to catch up on some tv.  The internet connection was just too slow to do it at the apartment.  After I was all caught up, I hit up Starbucks from some free food and beverages, a free gallon of milk, and then came home to Scout and Tim, still playing his video game.

It smelled like rain out, and was starting to get misty, so I put a sweatshirt on and sat on the balcony.  It was cold, but I enjoyed it.  I was thinking again.  I was wracking my brain on how to get my point across that I care.  It was painful.  But I think it’s too late anyway.  I had plenty of opportunities, in the past, but I never took them.  I could look back and wish I had taken them, but it won’t make a difference.  I can’t change the past.  But I do care.  Whole heartedly, I do.  I don’t know if I should anymore, but I do.  And I probably always will.

Tim and I actually talked for the first time tonight.  Normally Nico and Armando do all the talking, but we bonded while cooking.  It was ten, but we were hungry, so we combined brain powers and made fried rice and hotdogs while listening to indie rock.  After our late night dinner we watched an episode of Archer, which was kind of vulgar, but funny, and then played with Scout for a bit.  It was a really enjoyable night.  I like living with boys I think.  They’re dirty and have empty beer bottles EVERYWHERE, but it’s okay.

Exploration continued:

In elementary school I was this short, tubby, tomboy who just so happened to be both a bully and teacher’s pet.  That all changed once I entered fifth grade and ended up sitting next to my arch nemesis, Doramarie.  I wasn’t the same person I had been before, besides the 5 inch growth spurt.  Dora and I became best friends.  She was my first real best friend.  We did everything together.  We told each other everything.  We were inseparable.  There was literally a 3 month period where we saw each other every single day.  I had never had a relationship like that with anyone before and I never wanted it to end.  And it wouldn’t because we were going to go to the same private middle school.  When it came time to enroll in school, I ended up going the public route instead.  We were separated.  I made a stupid conscious decision that I would never let anyone replace Dora and that I would never let anyone that close again.  That dumb decision messed me up.  Unfortunately, going to two different schools made it difficult to remain best friends.  I called frequently and tried to arrange time to hang out, but the effort wasn’t reciprocated and we lost touch.  It hurt to lose someone I was so close with.  I figured not allowing myself to be close to anyone would prevent that hurt from happening again.  Would prevent that feeling of abandonment.

So in middle school, I had friends, but I was never as close to them as I was with Doramarie.  I didn’t let myself.  Unknowingly, I put myself in a box.  I closed myself off from the world and I put up a façade.  I acted the way I thought others expected me to act, and in doing so, I lost myself.  I didn’t express my thoughts or feelings because I was kind of unknowingly raised not to do so.  But I let one person semi-close.  Alyssa.  But in 8^th grade, she made new friends.  I tried to remain close, but my efforts went unnoticed.  I was abandoned again.  I was hurt again.  So the walls went higher and they got thicker.

The day after my middle school career was over, a handful of soon-to-be freshman, including myself, had to be back at school around four o’clock in the morning for the eighth grade trip.  We would be gone for twelve days, in the Midwest, following Lewis and Clark’s trail.  Twelve days in a bus, driving through miles and miles of fields gives you hours upon hours of time to reflect.  Those hours allowed me to see what kind of person I had become.  I finally realized I had put myself in a box, shutting all others out, and became a big fake in the process.  It was then that I decided that starting high school would be the perfect opportunity to break free of the prison I had put myself in and I could finally be myself.  That idea sounded great and seemed easy enough, but I was wrong.  I could not remember who the real me was, and I was scared to try to remember.