9.24.12: William

This is about a fellow classmate that took his life earlier this morning. Please have his family in your thoughts and prayers. Thank you.

            I didn’t know Will but I knew of him. I knew his face and his smile and his voice when I came across it. I’d never spoken a word to him but I knew plenty of others who had. I didn’t know his story or why everything happened the way that it had…but I did know that his story ended in a tragedy that united us all.

            Today at 4 o’clock I got to observe something that I didn’t think I’d ever have to see. Despite the great loss that my school had suffered today, I got to witness something beautiful. I got to witness the coming together of my community as a whole. Today showed me how strong we really can be when we stand together. I'm so upset and so sorry that it took the loss of one of our own for us all to see how united we truly are...

            There was complete silence as we were all ushered into the church. I was crammed next to one of my teammates and tried to ignore the fact that we all smelled horrible considering that we had just come from practice. I looked around to see if I could recognize a familiar face and was pleased when I found many. I was utterly overwhelmed by the amount of students and faculty that came to show their support. My team and I sat together, as did all of the sports teams. But the closer that I got to my seat, the closer I got to the tears. I could hear it all around me and I tried to close my mind to it.

            The service wasn’t a long one but it was lovely just the same. We exited the church just the way we had come: in complete silence. As I rose from my seat, I saw the face of one of my close friends. You could tell that the tears were pressing at his eyes. I had been so good about holding my tears back for the entire service until that moment. My self-control gave way. The tears came easily and I wasn’t sure if I was crying for Will or for myself. It didn’t feel right to cry because I had never known Will. It felt wrong to be getting patted on the back and having people whisper “it’ll be alright,” in my ear. But I did it anyway…

            Will taught me a lot today. He taught me not to take things for granted. He taught me that two minutes can make a difference. He taught me that in a time of need, you will always have someone even when you think that you don’t.

            For all that Will has taught us, I wish I could tell him thank you. So, I’m writing this for you, Will. Not for me or for your classmates, suitemates, teachers, or family. This is for you. Thank you.

You will truly be missed--and not just for your kind heart but also for all of the lessons that you taught--and continue to teach--us. Thank you, Will. Rest easy.

9.23.12: Blood is Thicker Than Gold

            “As my oldest and closest friend, I am trusting that with what I’m about to tell you, it won’t go any further than this room…Am I clear? You know how much I dislike my business to be known to the public.” He nodded his head at me. I continued,  “Plus it’d be quite a shame if dear old mom heard about how you wronged your favorite cousin, wouldn’t you agree?” A smirk played at his lips as well as mine.

            “Indeed, that would be quite a pity. But I can assure you, my dear young cousin, your secret is safe with me.” The sarcasm was thick in his voice. I swatted his arm.

            “You are only older than I am by a mere month. Please refrain from using it against me every time I decide to tell you something that is of my concern.” He swatted my arm back. Good. He understood my terms and conditions, then.

            “So tell me what’s bothering you my dear, Claire.” I signed for a moment before deciding against my better judgment to tell my judgmental cousin my problems.

            “Well, my dear Casey, you know I don’t glisten and sparkle. Despite where I, or rather where my family is in life, it’s just not my style. I’ve never been one to show off. I behave myself and I honor the family name. And despite the fact that I know that I’m well off, I can’t help but worry that now that I’ve found someone who may be out of my dating league—if you ever let him know that I will actually destroy you—I’m not something that he can be proud of.” He stayed silent, ushering me to continue. I cleared my throat. “You know how much I’ve come to like Jacob,” Casey nodded his head…he’s only heard me talk about the man about a million times already, “and well, I’m not sure if I’m…flashy…enough for him.”

            “What are you trying to get at, Claire?” He didn’t really understand. But I tried to continue to get my point across.

            “I want to be a ‘wow, that’s your girlfriend? You’re so lucky!’ kind-of girl and I’m not so sure if I am.”

            “Mhm, I see the problem here…Honestly, Claire, I never thought that I’d see the day where you would be concerned with what people thought of you. You must really care for this Jacob-fellow.” I rolled my eyes at him.

            “You know that I do. I’d just like him to look at me and want to show me off despite my lack of glitter and gold.” Casey smiled at me then and put his hand on my shoulder.

            “Dear, if he doesn’t look at you like that already, then you should be with somebody who does.” He wrapped me into a hug then and I let him hold me. I guess what they say is true: blood really is thicker than water. 

9.9.12: Walking on Water

The pen was starting to feel heavy in my hand…the sun was strong today but there was a slight breeze coming from the east to make it bearable. Children’s laughter surrounded me and I wished that my mood would reflect what I heard. I looked to my left at the playground where all of the children were running in and out and around all sorts of contraptions. A slight smile played at the corner of my lips but then I remembered why I was really here: to clear my head. I looked back at my notepad and my chicken scratch that now covered it. All of it hardly made any sense at all and my list of pros and cons weren’t getting me any closer to the answer that I was trying to find. I looked up again, this time at the glistening lake that was before me, and took the deepest breath I could muster. I held it in for a second, let it out and tried again.

            If you have to wait for something, is it really worth it?

I looked back out at the lake again for a second before my pen was back on the paper.

            It depends on what it is, how much it means to you, and how long you have to wait.

Okay, that was a decent starting point. I could work with that. Thoughts started to soar through my head…until my cell phone interrupted them.

            “Hello?”

            “Turn around…” It was Eric, my oldest and closest friend. So I guess he had come looking for me. I wasn’t sure if he’d come this time. I’ve been doing this a lot lately, you know…running away to the lake for a couple of hours, writing down my thoughts and waiting for him to come find me so I could tell him which of my thoughts I’d been able to make enough sense of to actually transfer to paper. He always found me. It was kind of our spot. We’ve been coming here since we were little kids. Our moms would take us everyday after we were done with our classes in kindergarten. We used to be those kids on the playground.

            But it was a little different now. I got up from where I was sitting to give him the hug he always got when I first saw him.

            “Alright, kit, what’s up with him this time?” Oh, right, I forgot to mention that most of what bothers me is my boyfriend, Henry. Actually, he’s not my boyfriend yet (which is the whole problem). Don’t get me wrong, it’s nothing that Henry does...I’m convinced that he’s the perfect human being and he can do no wrong but is it wrong of me to have high expectations because of that?

            “You’re thinking that your expectations are too high aren’t you?” How did he know that? Actually Eric can pretty much read my mind so I’m really not all that surprised that he just said that. I looked at him and nodded my head.

            “Is it wrong of me to want to be his girlfriend? It’s been five months. I can’t wait much longer, Er.” He nodded at me apologetically…he’s already heard this about a thousand times. I put my notepad on the bench next to me and stood up. I went to the lake’s edge and picked up a flat-looking rock. I rubbed my thumb over it a couple of times before my hand started to clench into a fist around it. I cocked my arm back and was about to throw it before I felt Eric’s hand cover mine. He shook his head at me. I lowered my arm to my side and let the wind move around me. I took another breath and looked at the sun reflect off the water.

            “I love him, you know.” Eric nodded his head. His hand came back around my hand that had the rock in it.

            “Yes, dear, I know that. But if you rush into something violently, what do you get?” He threw a rock that he had in his other hand right at the center of the lake. I heard it plop and then the rock was gone and out of our sight. I was still looking at the spot where it had disappeared when Eric spoke again. “Nothing happens. It sinks. But when you ease into things, what do you get?” He took my hand and cocked my wrist back just enough to make the rock skip three times. “You get smooth sailing, my dear.” I just nodded at him because I knew that he was right. I could feel tears pushing behind my eyes and I wanted so badly to let them go but I just couldn’t let that happen right now.

            “Do you think it’s worth it to wait? Do you believe that if you have to wait for something it’s truly worth it?” He looked down at my notepad.

            “I think that before you can ask me those questions, you should answer the ones that you wrote down yourself first.” 

5.15.12: Cry (not based on real life)*

Daddy made momma cry...

I never thought I’d see the day.

The tears come streamin’ down

But momma doesn’t make a sound.

The world’s gettin’ in momma’s way…

She’s climbin’, climbin’, tryina claw her way out

But momma’s drownin’ from all that pressure,

She feels as if no one, not one, is there to help her.

And then momma just keeps on cryin’

But all she’s really doin’, all the time, is tryin’, tryin’, tryin.’

Daddy made momma cry…

And when I asked daddy why?

All daddy did was lie, lie, lie.

3.13.12: The Boys Next Door

I don’t know what it was. They were like glitter: sparkly and shiny but once you looked closer, like a lot closer, there was actually nothing there. And there wasn’t. They weren’t very nice people but I still found myself wanting to be next to them. But the guys next door would only see me as just that: the girl next door. I knew that they made fun of me. It dug and got under my skin real fast. Why did they think that they were so much better than I was? We weren’t so different. We had the same interests and hobbies. But the way that we treated people? That’s where we lacked to agree. I was always the one trying to avoid stepping on toes while they thrived on it. There were three of them, sometimes five or six. It depended on how many of their friends were there. We were cordial because we needed to be. Or at least I was. Neighbors can’t be rude; it doesn’t look good when people take notice. That’s what mama always said, at least.

            The one I knew best was the oldest. I knew him because of my brother. I don’t know how they met. I never asked. To be frank, I don’t care enough to ask now. The oldest and I used to be close until we weren’t. I wish I could tell you what happened, I honestly wish that I could, but I don’t even know myself. He used to take care of me. I used to think that he was some sort of handsome but it was only the glitter that I saw.

            The second oldest, the middle, was my age. We never got along. Mama said as kids we would fight about everything…mostly his older brother. He was bigger, stockier, than the others. He had a nice face with gorgeous blue eyes that were mesmerizing if you looked into them for too long. We liked to joke that that’s how he got all of his girlfriends…even though it was true. He’s had quite a few of those…and he’s treated them all the same: like dirt. So many pretty girls, so many tears. I almost felt bad for them but as I watched each new one become an old one but I knew that there’d be another one coming around the corner and that they’d never learn. Blondes and brunettes were constantly coming through his door but redheads were his favorite. They always lasted the longest (but that wasn’t saying much considering their shelf life was about two weeks).

            The third brother, the youngest, was the shy one. He went with the flow, he never wanted to mess up; most definitely the perfectionist of the group. He looked similar to his middle brother and would act like him one day, too. He was much smarter, though. I’d see his nose in a book, scribbling notes in a notebook next to him. I never took the time to figure out what his notes were, not that he’d give me the time of day. I don’t think that his very own brothers even knew what those notes were.

            You’d never find one without another. If they weren’t with a brother, they were with one of their friends who followed them around like trained dogs. It was almost like a cult and it was disgusting. Mama said that it must be a guy thing but I didn’t believe that for one second.

2.14.12: Valentine's Day

It seemed only fitting that I realized my obsession with love on Valentine’s Day. Ever since I was a little girl, prince charming was engrained into my brain. I was a true romantic, only interested in books or movies with a juicy love story rooted into the plot. I set my life around love and it touched every aspect of my life. I wrote about love like I’d felt it a million times over, but in reality, I’ve never really been in love once. My vision of what love is was so sugarcoated that I don’t think anyone could have called it anything short of a fantasy…and unfortunately that’s exactly what it was: a fantasy. My writings were my escape from my non-existent love life and in reality…my standards were too high for a too average girl. I’ve been with too many guys that weren’t right for me. Carrie Underwood’s song, “The More Boys I Meet,” is constantly on replay as she sings the story of my life. “I close my eyes, kiss that frog…I’ll give anyone a shot once…” Now, on Valentine’s Day, I sing it at the top of my lungs, smiling, because of how true miss Underwood’s lyrics really are. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not miserable, or bitter, or constantly looking for someone. Actually, I’m perfectly happy with who I am and where I am in my life. Just because I don’t have anyone now though, and I feel like I’ve seen all that’s to be seen, doesn’t mean that I’ll give up.

1.5.12: Keith

I thought about you today.

I went back to the beginning.

I went back to the basement

And the swings,

And our families laughing together all those summer nights.

I went back to our first kiss,

And the shyness we felt,

And finally breaking the barrier.

I went back to the time when

Everyone and everything was

Innocent;

When there was not a single care in

The world for either of us.

I went back for you.

I went back to you.

1.5.12: Let's Dance

Let’s dance.

We’ll dance around the obvious truth.

We’ll keep going and going until our hearts break.

Ring around the rosie, pockets full of posie.

Ashes ashes.

This shouldn’t have gone on as long as it did.

Break my heart once, shame on you.

Break my heart twice, shame on me.

Filled with emotions,

None that I can figure out.

Not speaking.

Not breathing.

Not seeing.

Not believing.

I need to be done.

I can’t tear myself away.

How long until I break, break, break away?

12.8.11: Memories

       Memories are dangerous little things. They’re selective. They have a certain power to break you all over again when you let them. They make you realize what you had and what there was but they neglect to tell you why you no longer have it and why it was lost in the first place. There’s always a reason for no longer having something but memories…well they'll make you want it all back. 

9.8.11: Maintaining Perfection

She cries at night when no one can see.

She looks in the mirror to see if she recognizes the face staring back at her.

The tears will come and the tears will go.

Each day she’ll wake up and spend the day putting her heart back together again.

She’ll look in that mirror with her head held high

Because she knows that’s what she’s supposed to do.

She’ll put her makeup on and she’ll

Fake a smile

All the while

She’s dying inside.