I'm never letting you go.

Untitled

It seems like everything is shutting down. Wretch.cc, Yahoo blog, all the documentation of my first years here.

Our friendship.

I feel like there's nowhere to rant now. I thought I was done with this blog, but the mess in my head just doesn't feel worthy of the other one.

And what a mess it is.

Half of it I so want to share with you while the other half I'm not sure I want you to know. But I suppose if I'm going to rant, I'll get all of it out. I know you'll read this at one point, I just don't know when. I guess that's a risk I will take.







I miss you.

I miss us.

I don't even know why I'm doing this. Why I'm suddenly changing everything again. Okay, correction. I know exactly why I'm doing this. I just didn't expect it to be so hard.

I feel like I'm bringing such negative connotations to the term "best friends".

As I told you, I'm doing this because I'm not allowed to date you now anyway. I want to honor my dad's wishes, and I don't like this half-in and half-out thing. Not on principle, at least. Neither of us can drive to each other at this time, and I want it to be real when we date. I want to be able to see you on the weekends and hold your hand and be in your arms and kiss you and silly little things like that. Also, I felt like I need to fall deeper in love with God first. I felt like it's something he's been showing me.  And like with OSSM, there's a gut feeling that I did the right thing. Also like OSSM, it's haunting me and hurting me more than I thought it would.

I didn't realize how hard it would be to go back to our old relationship. I didn't realize how much I had come to crave your little affectionate gestures. I didn't realize how hard I had fallen for you somewhere along the line.

And now there's a wall. I feel so far from you. I feel like I've lost you somehow. I feel like I've lost my best friend.

Then I feel even worse once I realize what a hypocrite I am. Me and my double standards. How can I ask to be just friends then still expect the intimacy we had? How can I be upset at our situation when you're probably just giving me the distance you thought I had asked for? How can I be disappointed at our lack of communication when I'm the one who rejected your late night calls? How can I get jealous when I'm close friends with so many guys myself? How can I resent how you seem to talk to Jane more often and more effortlessly than you talk to me? How can I be hurt by you not putting me first when I haven't always put you first?

The truth is, I'm scared now. I'm finally terrified of losing you. I'm afraid to let go. I'm afraid to let you go for a year now and I'm afraid of the possibility of letting you go at the end of all this.

OSSM is starting to hurt more now, too. It's like an old wound aching. They get to spend two years living with such an amazing person and they don't even know it.

The worst part is, I used to be able to tell you anything. Anything and everything. I've told you things I've never told a soul on this earth, and I was completely comfortable doing so. Now...now even saying "hey" isn't natural. Sometimes I feel like I'm just bothering you. Jane doesn't bother you though, does she? I'm sorry; I digress. I just feel like I can't talk to you anymore.

Maybe it's just these couple days and I'm blowing everything out of the waters again. A lot of these I need to get over myself, I know. I have to tame this little green monster inside myself that struggles to break free more and more often. Jealousy can kill a relationship, I've witnessed that firsthand. Jealousy and doubt. I have to trust you, trust you and God. Because what's a relationship without trust?

I've prayed so much over this. And I feel a little better about it. Then little things would trigger it again.

Is it awful that it's hard to talk to Jane without hurting in the slightest now? It's horrible. To be jealous of your own best friend.

I'm just rambling now because I'm really, really tired. You know, a while back I heard one of the best dating philosophies I've ever heard: Run as fast as you can towards God, and if someone keeps up, introduce yourself.

If I run at full speed, will you keep up?

I've never had to fake a smile for you before. I guess there's a first time for everything.

And you would ask me, perhaps half-heartedly:
"How are you?"

"I'm good! :)" I would reply.

A Shot of Rhythm and Blues

I've been meaning to write about this for a while, and now that we have a four day Labor Day weekend, I finally can.

It's getting a bit redundant now, blogging about OSSM all the time, but I can't help that it's so often what I need to write about. I have a feeling this post will be the final chapter on this topic, though.

I'm okay again. Truly, truly okay. It happened much faster and much more unexpectedly than I had foreseen. One day, it just suddenly didn't matter anymore. I finally saw that I am where I was meant to be, and I now walk through the halls of Santa Fe being beyond grateful that I had chosen to stay. I'm not quite sure what triggered it; I just realized that Angelina will need a friend this year and that I'd much rather stay up all night finishing an art project than solving a physics problem and that I very much enjoy listening to Mr. Walsh talk about English in his big-worded ways. I realized that most everything I wanted out of OSSM, the fresh start, the disciplinary schedules, the fulfillment of productivity, I could achieve on my own if I worked hard enough, and that even though I felt some distance the first couple of days, Nathan and I are as close as ever and we will continue to be so. A part of me wanted to leave because I was sick of the stereotypically hierarchical high school atmosphere, but somehow it doesn't really matter anymore. I finally feel like I belong. I'm content, but there is still this strange wistfulness that remains.

I've tried for days to name what I was feeling. I attempted to put it into words or just some sort of explanation. I was no longer jealous, and I didn't wish I had said yes to that one fateful phone call.

It's like...OSSM is an adventure. It wasn't my adventure to have, I knew, yet there were still times I thought of the adventure with longing. It wasn't my adventure to have, I understood, yet there were still times I wondered what it would have been like if I were on the adventure. The people I could have met, the memories I could have made-- strangely, those were what I regretted the most. Hanging out in the basement, doing ballroom with Nathan, running in PE with Jane, bonding with the girls on my floor, living and learning with friends, eating meals with the Great Hall...It would have been an incredibly fun and extraordinarily unforgettable experience had I gone, I have no doubt. In the end, however, I'm glad I had stayed and I wouldn't change it if given another chance. These wistful occasions aren't exactly few and far between, but they are in no way overwhelmingly often. Wisps of wistfulness, that's all they are.

The night I chose the road less traveled by, albeit unwillingly, Vincent told me life has a knack of working itself out. I didn't quite believe him then, my naive head panicking about the irreparable state I had made my life into. I see now that everything did indeed work out for the best, and that God's plan for me is fully in place. Perhaps, of course, I am only stating this now because I have no other choice; maybe I would say the same thing had I gone to OSSM. I have no way of finding out what would have happened, however, so I won't ponder upon it. It was a lesson that took me an agonizing time to learn, but learn it I did.

Back in the months I thought OSSM was an journey I would embark on, I made another blog meant to be started there. It signaled a new start, a new chapter. For a while, I was disappointed I would not get to use it, but I realized amidst all the wistfulness that it doesn't need to take a new school to start a new blog. I had always been sort of a nomad when it came to blogs; I never stayed on one for too long. Too often, I felt the need for a change, for a new beginning. It came to me that I could still document my new chapters, though my environment has not changed. I've changed inside, with 7/17/13 this summer and many more little changes and I'm ready for even more, and that's what ultimately matters. Two things really hit me at Falls Creek this year. It's not about trying harder; it's about surrendering more. Stop trying to change yourself from the outside-in, let Jesus change you from the inside-out. I've known for years that Jesus hadn't really changed my heart and my life. Now, I'm so ready for that change, and I can't wait for the amazing things He has in store for my life. That's a change worthy of a new blog, is it not?

Let It Be

It is 2 AM, and I am currently downloading all the Les Miz videos off of Youtube. I just want to sleep.

We're in Beaumont visiting some old friends on the way back from Disney World. It's been an amazing but exhausting trip. Hogsmead was everything I imagined it would be and more, and the Magic Kingdom was, well, magical.

I'm very, very tired, so this whole post will probably just be some incoherent rambling. I just need to let things out though. There's just so much in my head, on my mind, on my heart.

OSSM is, as has become the norm, on my mind. I've come to a little more peace with it since the last post and am even starting to get a little excited for the next Santa Fe school year. I've been doing pretty well, I think, but with the start of school approaching it's getting worse again. Everything just, hurts. Little things would remind me of it and it would just sting. Little things like posts about OSSM popping up on my news feed or hearing "science and math" and I don't even know. It's so ridiculous it's sad. I got bored earlier and went on Nathan's account to read his messages (because that's what I do when I'm bored), and that was a total mistake. Reading his conversation with Jane and Richard and Vincent about homework and school next year just reminded me again of everything. There are times I just remember wow, I could've been discussing homework with them too, or talking about what I'm bringing to move-in, or wondering what they're wearing to convocation. I'm also terrified. Terrified that I screwed up my future, that my PSAT score will be awful and I'll be spent doing clubs and extracurriculars but it still won't be enough. I'm also afraid my understanding of math and science will be just enough to skim the A again and I won't actually understand the subjects and I mean I am just so bad at math it's not even funny. Obviously all this is still up to me and not my environment, or "from the will inside of you and me" like rapper Nathan put it. Still.

The videos are only half way through. I'm not getting any sleep, am I?

I started doing this thing where whenever OSSM is upsetting me again, I try to pray for someone else's problems. They say your own problems seem to shrink when you care for someone else's, and it's kind of been working. There are so many people to pray for and it makes you grateful for what you have. It's gonna take a lot longer for me to be completely okay about this again, and there will be times next year seeing pictures and hearing stories that will bring so much pain, but it'll be okay. I'll make the most of the Santa Fe these next two years and see where God takes me next, right?

Next year I need to work so, so hard. No more repeats of the years before. I can't afford it anymore. Violin, drama, school work, standardized tests. I also don't want to stray from God again. How many times do I need to fail before I truly learn that I can't do it on my own?

Apart from the resume-building stuff, I want to change myself for the better, too. I was always too caught up with how hurtful Mom and Dad could be when lecturing me to really try to change the stuff they want me to change, and that obviously defeated the purpose. But no more of that. No more irresponsibility and immaturity and selfishness and laziness. Man oh man do I need to overcome my laziness. This year, I want to really grow up. Grow up into the person I'd be proud to be and the person God meant for me to be.

The videos still aren't done, so I guess I'll ramble some more, huh?

Instead of rambling, I went and read through Bob's old blogs. Strangely, I can relate so much to how he felt.

This post didn't feel as therapeutic as usual, probably because I'm so tired. I don't usually stay up till 3 by myself. Hmm, getting up at 6 tomorrows. Two and a half sweet hours of sleep.

For No One

Haven't been on here in a while. So much has changed, it seems.

I'm attempting to type out my plan for next year, and it's hurting so much more than it should. Reading off Vincent's plan is reminding me of what I could've had, what I let go. I've made peace with the fact that nothing I think or do is going to change anything now, but I can't help but feel like I made a mistake by declining the acceptance. What if Nathan was right, and I was wrong? What if my parents were wrong? What if OSSM was where I was supposed to be?

I'm trying so so hard to trust that God has a plan for me, but what if His plan for me was to be at OSSM, and I messed it up? So many what-ifs. They kill you, you know.

Cry for a Shadow

I get it now. What Stephanie meant.

What she meant when she said after Kaleb died, her team was a mess.
What she meant when she said she's fine, but she's worried about her friends.

Brenda died last night.

They called all the comp drama kids down to the drama room, and Sarah and I had no idea what was going on. We didn't think it was anything big. That is, we didn't until we saw Leah and Wendy and Erica crying down the hallway.

By the time we got to the fine arts hall, I knew someone must have passed away.

I didn't know who it was and I didn't want to know. We got to the drama room and it was a crying mess. Robin. Brody. Addison. Rachel. I mentally checked off the people that were alive. Erica. Leah. Sarah. Wendy. Ratul. Ashley. Robin reached out to hug us and sobbed out a broken "Brenda".

Was it terrible that for a second, I was relieved that it wasn't someone I was closer to?

All those unaware of the news started crying at that word, but I didn't.

I couldn't get my head around it.

Brenda? Brenda West?

How could she be dead? How could she not be walking in any minute with her sassy attitude and ask us what the hell was going on?

For a while, I just stood with no emotion, trying to comprehend everything.

I sat down and listened to the sobs and sniffles and to Robin telling us all how much she loved us. That this is our family and we belong here.

It was somewhere there that the tears came. I'm not sure what I was crying for. For Brenda's life taken by her own hand, for Brody's tears of anguish, for Lane's stunned silence.

Then the stories began. Brenda and Lockerbie. Brenda the best of the improv team. Brenda the sassy friend that cares for you. Brenda the aspiring singer.

The counselors were useless. Sparta just wanted to mourn, but they wanted to be there and be "professional".

I'm okay, just confused. But I hurt for the others.

Jessica. She and Brody both got a text from Brenda at 8:38 last night. "I love you."
They were all so close. Seeing all the pleads for Brenda to come home posted at 2 this morning breaks my heart over and over again.

How can she be gone?

Brody said something about how after Newtown, we thought we knew. But we didn't. Now we do.
He said something about how Lockerbie just kind of came together, weaving a tale of grief and overcoming it. How fitting it seems now.

Seeing all these tweets and posts about Brenda made me strangely angry. They didn't know her. Maybe I didn't know her very well either, but I was part of her drama family. She wasn't just another bullied victim. That's not Brenda. I felt like they had no right to say anything and to pretend they care.

It's strange how after today, yesterday's Boston bombing seems to pale in comparison. It's so different when you're personally affected by the death.

But this also brought on another wave of thinking. What if it had been me? Who would mourn for me when I'm gone? Do I have this kind of "family" who would support each other in the grief of losing me? What nice things would they say about me? What would I leave behind?

Rest in peace, Brenda.

I Feel Fine

It's one of those days that the weather depicts perfectly how the day is.

It's raining outside and colder than it has been in a week.

I'm crying again. I'm so sick of crying because of them, but I can't stop my tears. Crying is...freeing, in a way. I always feel exhausted afterwards, but I also feel better. Lighter.

The worst part is always when I'm in my room wallowing in my own misery, and I can hear their words. Their words of how I'm a failure, how they've given up, and how I'm just not enough.

They cut, but I can't stop listening.

Today being "one of those days" came as a surprise. Nothing gave it away, save for the weather. No sign, no warning.  It all seemed a bit sudden to me. But I've been told on many accounts that I can be a bit oblivious, so maybe that plays a hand.

I got in the car a bit later than usual, but Dad didn't seem too angry about it. And then he spoke. It was the cold kind of fury, the kind that's quiet but creeps up your spine slowly until it envelops you completely.

He was upset by me playing in the pit orchestra for the musical.

The things he said. I don't even know where to start.

But he started with the musical, so I will as well.

He was infuriated that the musical was a volunteer thing and I'm in it. It was more brought on by the fact that I haven't practiced piano for OMTA as much since I spent so much time in rehearsal. My parents had a "long" talk this afternoon, apparently. They're upset that I haven't spent too much time on violin, which I understand. It's really the old talk, about how I already don't have enough time and I bite more than I can chew.

There is something new though. They feel like they're losing control of me. I don't listen to them anymore and they have no authority over me, they say. I heed my older friends' advice more than I obey theirs, they say. I seem like I have all these independent opinions now, they say. But they know it's just an illusion because all I'm doing is seeking others' approval. They said.

The thing now is that I can't just close my ears to what they're saying to protect myself, as I had done before. I told myself that I would open my heart and listen, because they mean well and they've experienced more. Some of the things I hear will hurt like hell, but the pain will be worth it because what hurts the most is what holds the most truth.

I know they can see me more clearly than I can at times, because the angle they see me is not the mirror fogged up from the steam of the shower I see myself in. It should be comforting that they know me so well, but it doesn't always feel that way, I suppose. But because of that angle, they miss some details that you have to look closer to discover. They don't seem too interesting in finding out the tiny pores though.

I don't think they realize how difficult it is for me to grow up here in the United States. Two cultures that are so vastly different and I am forced to take the best from both worlds.

It's not so easy all the time.

Yes, I have overcome the language barrier. Yes, I have found a way to fit in to my surroundings. But my journey to self-discovery is made even more rigorous by the two roles clashing inside.

Take one for the team, America tells me. Each man his own world, China tells me.

I don't know what my parents think my reasoning behind my actions are. I don't think they care. But I'm just so, so lost and I don't think that's acceptable to them. I just want to find myself and not be one of those kids that only knows what his or her parents tell them. I respect and value my parents' opinions, I really do. But I want to do what they told me because I know it's the right thing, not just because they told me to.

I guess that's not really obedience, and obedience is what they want from me. Because I'm incapable of acting in my own best interests.

I'm playing for the musical because I know that this very well might be my last year at Santa Fe, and I want to have played in pit before I left. I also know that since Julia's not playing, the violin section will crumble without a leader. I wanted to make one last contribution to the department before I left. Is that so wrong?

Apparently my parents think so. It's not benefiting me, so it was a foolish decision.

To be honest though, pit isn't affecting me as much as they think. I haven't really practiced piano because I didn't want to, not because I didn't have time. It's the whole predisposition thing, though.

Sweet Little Sixteen

The big one six.

I've never felt so loved.

This birthday was probably the least anticipated of all my birthdays. School came first, and all I could think about was all the assignments due and tests to take. My 16th birthday was the last thing on my mind. I decided to throw a little birthday dinner anyway on Mom's suggestion, and all my friends were more excited about it than I was.

It's not really a big deal. Just another day. Or so I thought.

At midnight, texts starting coming and birthday wishes on Facebook. I smiled and thanked them. It's normal birthday routine, and I had come to expect this.

After school, I went to get boba tea with Angelina and was glad to FINALLY catch up with her. So much had happened since we were last able to really talk.

However, what I didn't expect was receiving a giant card signed by all the youth and a journal at church tonight. What I didn't expect was coming home and seeing a video the WAR team spent a week working on for me on my Facebook wall. What I didn't expect was the 24 red velvet cupcakes Hannah baked for me and the incredibly heart felt note she left in the beautiful hand bound notebook she got me.

I realized something tonight. And I wasn't the only one. Nathan, Isaac, and Daniel all commented on it. I was loved.

It was just a revelation that hit me so hard, especially since I've had so many moments when I felt alone this year. I'd documented my friendlessness over and over again, wallowing in the lack of my social life. I didn't realize what wonderful support I had behind me.

I'm loved.

By so many.

It was a happy birthday.

A Hard Day's Night

I screwed up again.

Speech and Debate Regionals 2012: Part 1 is over.
I went for Prose today. 2nd, 5th, 7th, 5th.

Like Addie said, I didn't think I would be upset over the results, but I am. I mean, after the rounds, I knew they were extremely tough rounds and it would be incredibly difficult to break through. I just still had too much hope, I guess.

I'm upset about the results, but the worst part is I know it's all my own fault. If I really think about it, I know I didn't deserve to qualify for state anyway. I've worked too little on my pieces, especially my prose.

I've been so lucky with everything lately, I started thinking I could just wing everything.

I'm just so disappointed with myself. Nothing is coming out right. Not this blog post, not my drama events, not my life.

It's like I can't learn my lessons. Success doesn't just come to me. I have to WORK for them. I know that in my heart but I'm just so damn lazy and I never work hard enough. I've been given so many chances but I've blown away even more.

I hate myself and who I am now.

My problem is that I'm too lazy. My problem is that I don't work hard enough. My problem is that I trick myself into thinking I don't need to work that hard. My problem is that I am never persistent with anything I do. Not even friendships. Anything that takes time and effort I eventually lose, unless there's someone behind me making sure I do everything I'm supposed to.

What's happening to me? It's like I'm losing more ambition every year.