Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let the pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place.

Everything that you think but don't feel does matter.

It's not as though it doesn't matter. People might say that logic and love do not go hand-in-hand... but that doesn't mean that they... (um, okay, as a metaphor,) never hold hands. It doesn't mean that the two hands of love and logic never hold on to one another.
So to speak.

And also, that doesn't make either hand weak or wrong or... unreal. Each hand is still there, I mean, after they let go of one another. Love doesn't mean less just because it began with or met with, at some point, logic. So they have to hold hands now and again. So what? I think that's okay.

I don't need a month off, right now.
Right now, what I need the most, is to be invested in my present. To be as in the now as  I can, as a part of my own life as I can be. Because I tend to not be. And I'd like to change that.

I'm sad because my relationship with Kyle is changing. We will break up. I will break us up. Because I am not in love with him. I love him... but not passionately. I love him in the way I love everyone, and not the way that I imagine I will love one truly special someone. I really tried to make it different, this time. He's been my boyfriend for something like seven months, and I really was committed. We had dreams of a future. He even proposed. But I've been frustrated with him recently. I feel like I'm asking him for a lot and he's just not responding. Not giving me the things that I ask for. I began to doubt that I deserved to ask for as much as a call if he would be late, or to talk about how I'm feeling, or for him to talk to my dad. But whether I deserve it or not, I realized that he can't give me the things I want. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to do it. Because what I am really asking for him to do is to fill the empty space that is left because I am not passionately in love with him. And he can't do that. And that is unfair.

The biggest reason that I love him is that he loves me. And ultimately, just being loved is an empty thing.
This is going to hurt me, and probably hurt him more.
And I feel like it is my fault because I didn't have a good... foundation... of me. I don't understand myself, or know myself, or love myself. And I don't really have the relationship that I think I might need to with God to create a foundation for me in life, to hold me up and steady me through all of this stuff that is wonderful even when it is hard. I feel like I fail because I lack those things.
Until I do, how can I fall in love? I don't know how falling in love works... but I imagine I need to be... healthy... of heart and mind, first.

I am so sorry for everything I've done, all the hurt I've caused. And not just because I hate the idea that those people are out there in the world hating me, and not just because I'm unhappy with being alienated. Because I've loved them all, in the ways I know how, and it was the best I could do. It wasn't worth nothing. It was worth everything to me.

An entry from my journal, February 26, 2009.

My anger protects me from feeling the deeper pain and sadness of whatever I am facing in my life, if only for a little while.

Not necessarily a wonderful thing or even the best. It just is what it is.

Well, singing, I guess.
I love to sing, and I find that music expresses and even dictates my moods the best.

Sometimes I wish that I could create, or draw, or dance, or play instruments, but I'm not particularly talented. I just really and truly love to sing and listen to music.

I know the question is just about what our favorite form of expression is, but since I'm going to be posting in my blog, I might as well talk a bit about my day. It works nicely that way. It's interesting to me that this is the question of the day because I spent my evening learning about music. Some of the fundamentals.

I'm really excited about it and can't stop thinking about it, plus it's good practice to continue to repeat it. So even though my teacher left a while ago, I'm going to repeat it here, just to be practicing! (Maybe you'll learn something? Lol, probably not, this isn't going to make any sense, but I'll understand it, and that's what counts right now. Please excuse me.)

Those numbers stacked on top of each other at the beginning of the music? Those denote the beats per measure and what note "gets the beat". So if, (as in the music I practiced with tonight,) if it's a 3 over a 4, that means that there are three notes per measure and that the quarter note (1/4, get it?) gets the beat.

That little dot that occasionally appears after a note? It means that you add half of the value of the note to the note. So if the dot follows a quarter note, which gets one beat by itself, then the quarter note and dot together get a beat and a half. If it follows a half note, which gets two beats by itself, then the half note and dot together get three beats. And if it follows a whole note, which gets four beats by itself, then the whole note and dot together get six beats. And if it follows an eighth note, which gets a half-beat by itself, then the eighth note and dot together get three-fourths of a beat. See?

I learned how to count tonight!
And it has been a long time since I have worked for something like that and felt so accomplished afterward. (The application to college doesn't count. Lol.)

My thoughts, I think,
Are very complex,
A chain of many links
That must really vex
Anyone trying to decipher
My train of thought
As it meanders here,
Loops and twists throughout.
Such does my mind work,
Even now
It will lurk
In one place and you'll wonder how
When it zips off on another track
And I know
That there's certainly no lack
Of thoughts for my mind to tow.
And yet for all that contemplation,
(And who knows in what span of time,)
Up here in my own little nation,
I can't even seem to rhyme!

Last night I became more excited about my future than I have been in months! It was an absolutely remarkable feeling. I wish that I had taken the time to write about it then, because I would have been better able to express it. I've had a rather dull day today, and I wrote in my journal, catching up for a week, so as a result I'm feeling a bit down. I wrote about a few very sad things that have happened in the past ten days, which is how long I went without writing in my journal. Which is pretty incredible, really, because I'd usually write in it while I was feeling all crappy. Anyway. So I wrote about this sad stuff and got to feeling particularly sad, and I haven't bounced back yet.

But the truth is that I'm grieving right now. I'm not saying that I don't have things to be happy about. But in general I'm sad. I said this in my last entry, I know. There are a multitude of reasons for that, each one sitting on top of the last and smothering me further. I honestly ought to wonder how I smile each day or laugh. But I take it for granted that I am a naturally happy person. I'm happy from the inside out. Even when there are sad things going on, or I am in sad circumstances, there is usually something that I feel pleased about or gratified by. I'm really great at accepting things as they are (not always, I don't think, a good thing,) and "looking on the bright side".

Very recently, I lost my best friend. Not to death. This is worse. I lost him because he says he doesn't want to talk to me anymore. (Obviously, that's not WHY, it's just what he said. I will never know WHY, if there is a why. Possible he doesn't know why. Probably he is just confused. Possibly he just isn't sure how to respond to me anymore.) He walked away from me, slammed the doors, and then locked them. (Haha, who doesn't love metaphors?)
His name is Brent. I have known him for several years, and in that time our relationship spanned a great many things, withstood various tensions, and comforted me and brought me a great deal of joy. But the past eight months have been very difficult between the two of us. Explaining all of the things that have passed would take a very long time, would depress me, and is very complicated anyway. Suffice it to say that we both made mistakes and hurt one another. Also, I love him. I trusted and depended upon him. I asked him not to hurt me. And knowingly, he did anyway. I do not think that was exactly his intention. I do not think that he is a mean-hearted person. But I can't imagine that he didn't know how much I was hurting and how much I wanted to talk to him while he avoided me. Finally, I approached him when he couldn't really avoid me and asked him to call me that night. He made it clear that he didn't want to, but agreed to it anyway. That phone call effectively ended our relationship. It was over, really, before I had a chance to save it. Unfortunately, during the call, I really lost my cool.

It's so rare. I never yell. I yelled at him. I never cuss or call people names. I did both to him. I was hysterical. I needed him to hear me. He sounded so cold and mean and detached. I panicked when I sensed that I was losing before I'd begun. I thought that if I just talked to him and let him know how much I was hurting, he was hug me and  make it all better. But he wasn't doing that and I... I don't know. I guess I just emotionally exploded. I had a month of misery built up to spew back at him. So I did. I blamed and accused and abused him, asking why he didn't care enough, why, if it was true that he didn't want to talk to me, he couldn't have been humane, at least, and just come and told me. And I told him that I love him. I told him that it wasn't fair to keep me waiting and hurting. So he said, (in the coldest, most heartless, meanest voice I think I've ever heard, that absolutely broke me,) "Then stop waiting for me."

And that was that. To compound the pain a number of my other friendships are being affected by it- some of our friends feel the need to take sides, or are trying not to and feeling uncomfortable. Most of them are just plain frustrated and tired of hearing about our problems. I am sensitive and emotional, and also expressive. But now I feel that I need to keep my feelings and thoughts about this to myself. None of my friends want to hear my pain anymore nor see me cry nor comfort me nor tiptoe around awkward social situations when the two of us are in a room at the same time. And honestly, that hurts me too. But I have to keep it to myself, cry only when I'm alone in bed. I cry a lot. It's remarkable to me, really. About the silliest things. But if I get physicaly hurt badly at all, you know how I respond? I laugh.

So anyway. Grieving. And trying to be very determinedly happy despite how I feel. Last night I was doing a great job! Because last night I felt excited and accomplished.

I had yesterday off work, so, near the end of the school day I got all bundled up (I can't believe how cold it is out there!) and went over to the high school, where I not only visited a number of my teachers and friends, but, more importantly, filled out the form to request my transcripts. Then I came home and filled out the college application. I wasn't thinking too seriously about it... I was just doing it. Because I knew I should. But then I got to the part of the application where you put what major you want to apply to study. I was stuck. I hadn't thought about that in a long time.

As in... not since junior high when I actually had huge dreams and aspiration and an insatiable appetite for experience, learning, and adventure and a never-ending curiousity. In high school I kind of went lame. I was so focused on slowing down. Time went by too quickly and I just panicked and stressed because I didn't have any of it. Time, that is. But that's... a tangent, sorry.

So. I started looking at majors and considering what I want to do. I sat on that almost-completed application for HOURS! At first I was just looked for something idly. I figured, pick something approximate and worry about it later. But then I got to reading... (I'm compulsive about that, you see,) and before I knew it was thinking about it more intently. I wanted the right one. I got on my instant messengers. I talked to my friends. I chatted on and on about the possibilities in front of me, and they patiently listened, encouraged, and then told me I should be undecided. But I didn't want that. I just don't, and also, I know myself. I'm not exactly self-motivated, and if I go undecided and don't have something to be passionate about and work toward, I will keep my trend of just following the path that happens in front of me or that is easiest. And that's not what I want. Even if it's a pain in the ass to change my major I don't care how many times, I'll do it. I got excited at last. The possibilities! The different paths I was facing! Mine to choose. Exciting. New adventures. I wasn't seeing limitations in those moments. I imagined different major and minor combinations. I thought about what I want and tried to balance it with some amount of practicality.

I submitted the application with the major "Arts and Humanities Emphasis" which is not a real major, but was one of the selections on the application. I'll pick a real one after a year or something. But it's better than undecided, no? Okay, and, in case you needed the hint, the really cool thing that I just said was at the beginning of the first sentence of this paragragh. I SUBMITTED THE APPLICATION! I sent my transcripts, and I paid to have my ACT scores sent, too. I applied for college.

I'm late, and it's only one application to a community college... but it's a step. A step. It's important, and at this point, it's a big step. I'm not outside my comfort zone. No, I'm still firmly within it. But maybe after a year of community college I'll be ready and empowered to leap outside it.

I don't really feel that excitement right now. But I remember it from last night.
I can't wait to hear if I've been accepted! Hopefully I will be starting school in January.

P.S. I am no big fan of Hillary Duff. I don't really like big celebrity figure heads. But I have always loved this movie, and I honestly watch it when I'm feeling down and need some inspiration. It's... cheesy and very mockable. (Haha, and I always have fun with that!) But also very meaningful to me. I thought this song was appropriately applicable.

Well, I wish that I were discovering things these days. I'm not, though. Not really. There are a number of ways that I could respond to this question, I suppose. But every answer that has flitted through my mind is just so trivial.

I still haven't stepped outside of my comfort zone. I remain standing still, stuck, unmoving, reluctant to leave the security of the place and lifestyle I know.

I took it for granted that I would be in school and I'm not.

I was one of those children that had so much potential. All the adults in my life, even adults I didn't know, loved to tell me how much potential I had. How smart and wonderful I was. Now I am nineteen years old, and I still just have potential.
Well. They hang on to their potential theories. The ones that haven't dropped away and forgotten about me. I mope in my world of nonpotential and uncertainty.

I am therefore discovering nothing but little things like gossip in the work place is as much of  a bitch as it was in high school, my cat doesn't always use her litter box, mice can live in vans, that I've built up a larger credit card bill than I thought I had, that you can't trust drunk exs to keep their hands off you if you ask them to no matter how much of a gentleman they are sober. And no matter who I love or trust, at some point, it always turns out that I can't give them enough or they can't give me enough and I lose them and I hurt and hurt and hurt and have to try to put my damaged self back together again.

I'm sad and miserable these days.
I don't know what I want for myself in my life.
I'm settled and that's great. Fine. I could live this way.
But that disappoints me now. Will I really live my life this way?

Every choice seems like not enough or else out of my reach.

Today is my birthday.

I know that it should be a very happy day, but thus far, it has not been.
I recognize that it is within my power to be happy, if that's what I want. I'll work on that today. I'm sure that I will have a good time once I begin the day in earnest. Go in to work. Smile. Laugh. See other people.

But the majority of my birthday wishes have been through facebook messages or texts. I have heard the words from three mouths so far today. And one is only because I called him. My own mother texted me happy birthday. My sister, too. At least they texted, I guess.

Some time ago I stopped being excited about most things. I had nothing that I anticipated, and now that I am out of high school, I don't do anything that brings me real joy.
I'm happy from day-to-day. I enjoy my jobs. I see my friends and talk and laugh. I do little, enjoyable things. But I am not working toward much of anything. I have settled into a life that is fine.

So. Today is my nineteenth birthday.
It should not feel as though I have one year less to live.
I don't feel ready to be nineteen. Heck, I don't feel ready to be eighteen.
But I am. I've had this time on Earth. And I know it's incredibly cliche, but I just haven't been living for about a year. I hate that I've squandered that time. It passes so quickly! Especially recently.

I don't know what path I'm searching for... but today is the day that I set out to find the path I want to be on, instead of sitting still on this empty, dusty road. (Haha, I'm a fan of metaphors.) So if I'm excited about anything, it's that.
Apprehensive might be a better word. At least, that's how I feel this moment. I'm sure the exhilaration will come later. But, oh, God (sorry, God,) I'm talking about leaping out of my comfort zone. I'm not even sure how to do it. I'm not even sure I can find the right ledge to leap off of. ... I'm talking in circles, now. Time to stop that.

Time to Live.