Patient. Fine. Balanced. Kind.

If only someone could speak of me the way she talks about you.

Here's the thing. As much as I would like to be able to be stoic, as much as I'd like to just sit back and have fun and not care about other people, as much as I wish I could escape the romantic in me, that part will always be there. I will always care too much. I will always put other people's needs before my own. I will always want a Jane Austen/John Green style love.

And it makes me wonder. How does it happen that those of us who want it so desperately are unable to achieve it? Or maybe it's that we want it so badly because we can't find it in our own lives. And so we go through our lives hoping each and every day that maybe, just maybe, that day is going to be the one when, by some strange miracle, we meet the person with whom we'll find it. Maybe it'll be the day that someone tells us they can't live without us, that every day is an adventure when they're with us, that they blush too easily when they look at us because they don't want to stare, that we are so incredibly beautiful  when we're asleep next to them, that they would do anything to make us happy.


Then we get to the point where we're convinced that no one ever will say those things to us. We think we're not worth the wasted breath. We're crazy for so many different reasons, and no one should care about us past the point of friendship because in the end they're only going to tire of us. They're going to get sick of supporting us through our emotional ups and downs, they'll be weary of saying "I love you" because we need to hear it every 10 seconds just to reaffirm it. We're not going to be enough to keep them interested.

Meanwhile our friends tell us that we just need to stop trying and it'll happen for us when we least expect it. And we'll scream inside our heads, "It's not that easy! You can't just turn hopeless romanticism off!" But we won't say it out loud, and we'll just spend our days waiting. We'll pretend we don't look for our person everywhere we go, that we don't hope someone's vague, angsty Tumblr posts are about us.





I need someone who will be my Augustus Waters, and I will be their Hazel Grace. I want to be the Alaska to someone's Pudge, and I want to equally be the Pudge to that person's Alaska. The drizzle and the hurricane, both of us. Maybe you have no idea what that means yet, but you will, and it's important. I want it so, so badly. I will be patient, as much as I can possibly be. Because as much as I don't believe it, I still hope that my friends are right when they say it'll happen for me. I'll try to keep believing that I'm worth it, that someone will want to know every intimate detail about me. It's so hard to hold on to that. But I will wait for you.

And I don't even need your love

I have my bad days, and I have my good days. Lately there have been more bad days than good ones. Today was a good one, all things considered.

Life is hard, you know?

I have things complicating my thoughts. I have to do my job, I have to find a new job, I have to find an apartment, I have certain people sitting in my mind and refusing to leave, I have diseases to manage, and I have school. Even if I didn't have the other things to do, I don't think I'd be able to completely tackle school.

And I am so unmotivated to do it...any of it. I want to leave. I want to get on a train and go where it takes me. I want to disappear for the weekend and see if anyone notices. I want to be good at something, the way some people are good at reading people or at creating poetry or at flirting. I am finding that I am mediocre at all these different things but not good at any of them in particular. I mean, I'm good at math and grammar but a) what are those going to do for me, and b) there are plenty of people who are so much better at them.

I've been stuck in a rut of complacency. I need to get out of here.

It's okay if no one believes like you

I think life lately has been telling me to watch this again. A friend showed it to me for the first time at least a year ago, but just in the last few weeks, it's been mentioned at least three times by different people. I took it as a sign that I've been needing to see it again.

How To Be Alone - Tanya Davis

If you are at first lonely, be patient. If you've not been alone much, or if when you were, you weren't okay with it, then just wait. You'll find it's fine to be alone once you're embracing it.

We could start with the acceptable places: the bathroom, the coffee shop, the library. Where you can stall and read the paper, were you can get your caffeine fix and sit and stay there, where you can browse the stacks and smell the books. You're not supposed to talk much anyway, so it's safe there.

There's also the gym. If you're shy you could hang out with yourself in mirrors, you could put headphones in.

And there's public transportation, because we all gotta go places.

And there's prayer and meditation. No one will think less if you're hanging out with your breath seeking peace and salvation.

Start simple. Things you may have previously based on your "avoid being alone" principles.

The lunch counter, where you will be surrounded by chow-downers, employees who only have an hour and their spouses work across town and so they - like you - will be alone. Resist the urge to hang out with your cell phone.

When you are comfortable with eat lunch and run, take yourself out for dinner - a restaurant with linen and silverware. You're no less intriguing a person when you're eating solo dessert, cleaning the whipped cream from the dish with your finger. In fact, some people at full tables will wish they were where you were.

Go to the movies, where it is dark and soothing, alone in your seat amidst a fleeting community. And then, take yourself out dancing to a club where no one knows you. Stand on the outside of the floor til the lights convince you more and more and the music shows you. Dance like no one's watching...because they're probably not. And if they are, assume it is with the best of human intentions. The way bodies move genuinely to beats is, after all, gorgeous and affecting. Dance until you're sweating, and beads of perspiration remind you of life's best things, down your back like a brook of blessings.

Go to the woods alone, and the trees and squirrels will watch for you.

Go to an unfamiliar city. Roam the streets - there are always statues to talk to, and benches made for sitting give strangers a shared existence if only for a minute, and these moments can be so uplifting and the conversations you get in by sitting alone on benches might've never happened had you not been there by yourself.

Society is afraid of alonedom, like lonely hearts wasting away in basements, like people must have problems if, after a while, nobody is dating them. But lonely is a freedom that breathes easy and weightless and lonely is healing if you make it.

You could stand, swathed by groups and mobs or hold hands with your partner, look both further and farther for the endless quest for company. But no one's in your head and by the time you translate your thoughts some essence of them may be lost or perhaps it is just kept.

Perhaps in the interest of loving oneself, perhaps all those sappy slogans from preschool over to high school's groaning were tokens for holding the lonely at bay. Because if you're happy in your head, then solitude is blessed and alone is okay.

It's okay if no one believes like you. All experience is unique. No one has the same synapses, can't think like you - for this, be relieved. It keeps things interesting, life's magic things in reach.

And it doesn't mean you're not connected, that community's not present. Just take the perspective you get from being one person in one head and feel the effects of it. Take silence and respect it. If you have an art that needs a practice, stop neglecting it. If your family doesn't get you, or religious sect is not meant for you, don't obsess about it.

You could be in an instant surrounded if you needed it. If your heart is bleeding, make the best of it. There is heat in freezing. Be a testament.

And by morning we'll be free

This post's title is courtesy of "What's Left of the Flag" by Flogging Molly, in the spirit of St. Patrick's Day. I've been digging that song a lot lately, and the line seemed applicable to the short post you're about to read.

Late at night/early in the morning is my prime awake time. I rarely, if ever, fall asleep before 2:00am - even less often before 1:00, and almost never before midnight. My brain is churning and I just can't imagine going to sleep.

I think about everything I possibly can, and it's a little ridiculous. Late-night thoughts are weird ones, which makes it such a good time to do that type of thinking. I make plans, I see the way I want things to happen in the future (both near and far), and I get motivated to do things. But like I told someone recently...one of my favorite lyrics - though I don't even know the song* - goes, "What is simple in the moonlight by the morning never is." I've always felt like that, ever since I can remember. I lay in bed, waiting and waiting and waiting for the tides of sleep to wash over me, and I just know what I'm going to do with my life when I wake up in the morning. Then I get to the next day...and it's never that easy.

I can't decide whether I like staying up late and thinking a ton or being so exhausted that I fall asleep immediately (like I did last semester). I don't know if I'll ever figure out the right balance. But as of right now, I think I'm okay with that.

Sorry for waiting a month and a half to write here. I just haven't had any meaningless nonsense to shout out into the abyss for a while. I love you all.

*I'd like to clarify, I am familiar with the song - I just haven't ever cared enough to listen to it. I like the line, that's all.

If love is a labor, I'll slave til the end.

I hate this.

I'm too needy. I try to stop, and I just can't. I can't stop expressing my feelings, and I don't understand how other people do it. I just don't get it. I feel too much.

edit: At least I painted a little tonight. I like how these two backgrounds turned out.

You can sing me anything

I've been painting.

In front of me at the moment sit five vibrantly colored canvases. There are three small ones - teal, yellow, pink - with the symbols I try to live by each day: peace, love, equality. A larger one, a navy background with a peace sign of green, yellow, and light blue. Another large one, lilac with white brushstrokes on top, with "There is only one happiness in life...to love and be loved. - George Sand" written in black. And to my left are a few other canvases at which I can't help but gaze, painted by one of the best friends I have ever known.

It feels so good to create. My paintings are simple, yes. Quite incredibly simple, actually. But they are mine. I see them and think, "There's paint on those canvases. I put that paint there. That's pretty cool." And I just keep wanting to do it more and more. We put large pieces of white paper (thankfully we have plenty at our disposal because we're RAs) down on my floor for potential paint spillage, and I've been practicing on that since I don't have any more canvas as of yet. I have two more ideas, and all I want to do is make them.

One of my ideas is a Jackson Pollock-style deal, literally throwing paint at a canvas or smearing it around with my bare hands. I'm thinking I'll need to be angry to make that one. Not sure why, but it just feels right that it'll be more of an angry painting.

And then the other...well, that one's a surprise. I can see it pretty clearly in my imagination, and I practiced it today. Between classes, meeting with residents, and other things I had to do, I just sat in the middle of my little living room and painted. I was using the paper that we put down to protect my carpet, and I simply let myself go. I have no idea how much time I spent...looking back, it was probably about an hour or two total, but it felt like it could've been all day. I'm really pleased with how my practice run turned out, and so now I'm really excited to actually paint it on a canvas. But I am a little nervous that it won't turn out the same, mostly because I sketched it out first on the paper and then painted over that. Can I sketch on canvas? Eh, I don't know. I guess we'll see.

I mean, art is kind of about experimenting, isn't it? It might not be perfect, it might not be moving, but it means something to you. Otherwise you wouldn't have made it, right? Right. So I'll go with the flow on that one. It doesn't have to look exactly like what I'm picturing, because the person for whom I'm making it isn't going to know how it looks in my head. And as long as I'm satisfied with it, I'm pretty sure that person will appreciate it too.

Mreeeh. I just want to paint all the things! What sucks is knowing that I'm giving that painting to its receiver for Christmas (because that's the next appropriate time to give things, since that person's birthday doesn't come before then), so even if I painted it tomorrow, I'll have to hang onto it for months. Grrrr. Oh wells, at least I'll be able to make it. What's bothering me about it right now is that I want to make it so badly, but I don't have a canvas or even enough paint to do it. Also, I know what I'm making 4 other friends for Christmas, and I really need to get on that because otherwise I'm not going to save enough time to do it and so I have to go buy the things I need to make them and gahhh I've spent so much money in the last couple of weeks and gahhh.

And suddenly, this has become an incredibly long post with lots of words and no fun things at which to look. So here is a picture of my new paintings sitting on my ottoman because I can't hang them up on my walls yet because in order to do that, I need wire, and I have no wire. 

It's also not the best lighting, but that's because it's 2:15am and the only light I have on right now is the floor lamp that was behind me when I took that picture. And still, I'm not tired, and I still haven't done my homework for Wednesday, but the nice thing about not having class on Tuesday is that you can get things done during the day. I'll miss my free Tuesdays when those classes start next week...

Anyway, I was feeling kind of lonely tonight but now that I've been telling you all about my paintings, I don't feel it quite so much. So that's good. I hope that whatever is happening in your lives is wonderful. You most likely didn't take the time to read all this stream-of-consciousness rambling, but that's okay. Thanks for looking.

You are not alone in this

You are not alone.

It's taken me a while to get to writing this post. I've been thinking about it literally for weeks now, and I even got it started. But I have been swallowed whole by Residence Life (not complaining about that, though - it's been such a fun time) and school (yeah, I could do without that right now...) and have thus been unable to find time to devote to writing it.

Also, I just didn't know what to say. Maybe I still don't.

Loneliness is one of my most common causes for my depression...probably the main cause, if I'm being honest. It's the feeling that everyone's forgotten about me, that everyone's having a good time and didn't think to invite me, that no one's thinking about me at the moment. So I'm sitting here with my door open, hearing the sounds of freshmen making friends and not worrying about classes yet because theirs don't start until Wednesday, and I'm alone and thinking about loneliness and feeling it, even when I've been with friends all day long.





Okay, so I swore I was going to make this post positive.


There are a few of you out there for whom this post is specifically meant. I don't know exactly what to tell you, but I want you to know that you shouldn't ever feel like that. You're always on someone's mind, even when you're not aware of it. Hell, you're on my mind a lot.

Especially during those times when you're all feeling crappiest, hit me up. I might not be able to answer you at the moment, but I notice when you try. I adore seeing my phone light up with your names. I think about some of you so very often, and I want you to know that. You're loved, you're appreciated, you're important. Remember that.

I could offer you a warm embrace

Adele's back to being stuck in my head. Make You Feel My Love, One and Only...they say it all. I've got a headache from the tears I've been needing to cry but couldn't. Twice now, HP7P2 has given me the release of emotion that I need. Also, I really can't wait until everyone comes back.

I just need the rain to remind me

"I always felt it before, that the world was filled with much more than the drowning soul I've learned to be. I just need the rain to remind me."

I need to get caught in the rain.

I'll be walking around campus with nothing to do in the late afternoon. I'll feel the drops begin, followed by the downpour. Warm summer rain will fall on my head, for once clearing the thoughts that swirl there. Not worth it, worth it, do something, don't do anything. The water hitting the still-warm sidewalk will create a mist into which I can retreat, a cover behind which I can let the rain fall from my eyes. Because try as I may, I cannot cry now. I have nothing worth spilled tears at this moment, but I need to cry.

There are too many ways this song (found here) is a representation of my life.

I want to darken in the skies, open the flood gates up. I want to change my mind, I want to be enough. I want the water in my eyes, I want to cry until the end of time. I want to let the rain come down, make a brand new ground, let the rain come down.

Tonight, tonight

What am I doing tonight?

Sitting in my room, watching Pride and Prejudice alone for the third (or is it the fourth?) time this summer.

What a waste of an I-feel-pretty day.

You could crush me

It's that feeling of wanting something so deeply it starts to hurt. It starts in your chest, down below your heart, and it swells and it aches. There are no sharp pains, just a constant throbbing that spreads to your shoulders and down your arms. It's so strong that you think your heart might burst, and you try to breathe and you try to relieve the aching but it just won't fade.

GPOY, Monday night edition

Is anybody listening?

Can't get enough of this song lately.

A Finger, Two Dots, Then Me - Derrick Brown

This, guys. Just this.

Signed sincerely, me

Yep, I'm doing it. I'm writing a post about not writing.

It's been a long time since I've written something real...on here, at least. That crap poem where I couldn't put into  words how much I felt doesn't count - a) because I couldn't put into words how much I felt, and b) because I wrote it in a notebook first. Also, I wrote a letter the other night (that made me cry because I was so overwhelmed with everything I wanted to convey), and it will be on its way to the recipient very very soon (I promise). So I have done a little writing, yes, but not like this. This is stream of consciousness, flowing straight from my fingertips, less thought-out and deliberate writing.

Why, though?

I don't really know. Maybe I haven't had time to collect thoughts about any particular subject. Maybe I've just kind of been floating along the last few weeks and haven't actually felt passionate about any particular subject. Maybe it's that I don't want to share everything with...well, everybody.

Of the three options I've just allowed myself to consider, I think it would have to be the last one that is most likely to be the cause of this writer's block(?). It's quite possible that some of the subjects about which I've wanted to write are too much to share here. It's possible that they might be looking at this post right now.

#whoops

Also for that reason, I have not been sharing nearly as much personal information as I usually do...well, anywhere. Because I don't know who's seeing this or my Tumblr or anything else, I don't want to overstep boundaries that might exist or cause awkward situations that are only going to break my heart. I'm usually so willing to share everything with everyone, and now I'm wondering why. If I put everything out there, where's the mystery? It's the mystery that makes people crazy, makes them think and analyze and crave.

Sometimes I wish I could focus on certain people and see what they do. It would make things so much easier. But then I know that I wouldn't want to use that power, for fear of not seeing what I hoped.

So basically, I think about you a lot, and all I can do is hope that you do the same. Except about me. Because you shouldn't think about yourself as much as I think about you. That's just conceited, and you're not like that.

This rambling post brought to you by the 1:30 AM version of Ali G.

In a romantic mood tonight

...but then again, when am I not?

• Pride and Prejudice playing on my tv
• champagne-colored nail polish
• TOTES wearing this for Lauren's wedding
• probs ending this calm evening with a little Pablo Neruda
• this movie has one of the best soundtracks I've heard
• especially "Dawn"

Also, I happen to be surrounded by young, single men. And they're all pre-priests. Greeeat.

I think I need a good things list right now

• Started out the day with some awesome people at the Omaha Heritage Festival...interesting to say the least.
• Got a little sun! :) Thank goodness for SPF 15 makeup, otherwise it'd be a lot worse.
• Saw Andrea for a little bit - I miss my Kiewit staff friends with a ridiculous amount of missingness, so it was really great getting to chat with her.
• Went through a tonnn of pictures to find the ones I needed to print. Such great memories.
• Baaaaaseballlllllll game - MVC champions! #rolljays
• Got the attention I needed - less than what I was really hoping for, but that's okay.
• Working on a care package for Patrick. :)
• Feelings validated by Tumblr - sometimes it's okay to be a stupid girl.
• My first experience with Red Mango! Yummmm
• The Prince and Me on TBS ♥
• HP and the Chamber of Secrets to finish the evening.

I just wanna be alone with your smile

2 things:

• That damn dream I had this morning. It was the first one about you in months. You were standing there, holding the hand of a girl who was taller, skinnier, and had darker red hair than me. In the beginning, your hair seemed like you cut it, but then I realized it was longer than ever. You were so self-absorbed that you didn't even notice me.
• Seeing lyrics from Blink-182's "M+M's" on Tumblr. It took me back to that time when we just sat in your car and you played it for me, telling me to listen to all the lyrics. All I wanted was to buy some candy (but not cigarettes) and drive to Madagascar with you. And I thought of how those are your favorite candy, and how I bought you that 42-ounce bag of them when I left for school so you'd eat them at work and think of me.

So I played it, and Dammit came on next, and why does every Blink-182 song have to be about you? Why did I have to start listening to your favorite band so much that I can still remember all the words, even though I haven't listened to them in a year and a half? And then there was Feeling This, and I could remember singing harmony with you in the car, and how you played Down and I didn't really understand it.

And it's not that I miss you, it's that I wish you would have tried harder. Because then I wouldn't be crying about nostalgia, I'd be crying about how I'm going to be in Omaha and you're going to be in Texas for the summer, but I wouldn't be alone tonight because you're not leaving for another couple of weeks.

And I just want to know what makes you smile now and if it still hurts to think about that night, whether you thought about coming after me when I left, and why you never called. And if you talked to your mom or your grandma or your brothers and what they said about me and what if I had gone to your grandma's wedding last summer? How the smell of the Garnier Fructis in my hair doesn't remind me of yours anymore, it's just how my hair smells now.

And how I just want to prove to you how much better off I am without you pulling me down all the time and how you hated my friends and how I hated that you hate everyone. And how you ruined Christmas for me that year and never wanted to introduce me to your family and how I never understood that.

And how I wish you'd call, still. That you'd want to apologize and show me how you've changed and become a better person. And how I'd pretend not to know who was calling because I deleted your number but can still remember it immediately when I think about it. And how I try not to think about it, but suddenly it's there, just like the way you'd roll your eyes when you were being ridiculous and how much I loved your real smile and how rarely I saw it because you were never happy, just content. And how I couldn't handle just being content and just wanted to make you happy but never could and how I drove myself crazy with that.

And how you had such an amazing smile.