7.24.13: TOD: Rush Hour

            So…this week…

I’m coaching at a lacrosse (obviously…because what else do I do with my life) camp. Since I live locally, my lucky butt gets to get itself up super early to teach super adorable Kindergarteners how to play the fastest game on two feet (P.S.—I didn’t make that up; It really is called the fastest game on two feet. I dunno where that came from).

            Anyway, some of you may be familiar with such a thing called rush hour? Well, I am not. But, after three days, I think I may have got this rush hour traffic thing kind of down:

1.     Get up and leave earlier than you have to. NO.MATTER.WHAT. Tired? SO WHAT. Suck it up and go get yourself a latte from Starbucks.

2.     Eat breakfast before you leave. Driving on an empty stomach is terrible. Driving on an empty stomach while you aren’t moving even though you’re supposed to be moving due to rush hour traffic is like terrible being on steroids. You.will.want.to.bang.your.head.against.your.steering.wheel.

3.     Rush hour is inevitable. You will hit traffic (unless you leave ungodly early…at like 5am…then I think you’re safe…but that also depends on your commute. For your sake, reader person, I hope that you don’t have a long commute).

4.     The road is filled with idiots. I wish I were kidding about this one but just like the world, the roads have their fair share of idiots. Assholes, too (but I was trying not to curse so I was going to leave that one out…. But I really just couldn’t because it’s too true. Oops. Oh, well.). Don’t be one of those said-idiots. I beg of you (no, seriously. I will literally get down on my knees and beg right now.). Don’t text, for the love of God use your blinkers, and make sure you have a banging playlist to rock out to.

5.     The middle lane is your best friend. The fast lane just plain sucks. If you're in the slow lane, and someone is coming onto the highway, PLEASE LET THEM IN. Think about how you would feel if you were trying to get onto the highway and some jerk wouldn't let you merge. Then you'd be forced into the trees. Don't be that guy who forces other drivers into the trees. 

6.     Patience is a virtue.

7.22.13: Stay (Multiple POV)

So I just got the Florida Georgia Line Cd and there was one song on there called "Stay" that I fell in love with. Naturally, it inspired a blog post.

Lindsey:           

Tears were steaming down my face. I tried to focus on his face but my vision was too blurred. I couldn’t do this…not to him. But I had to. I shook my head.

            “Linds…?” Of course he was trying to make sure that I was okay. Of course. And of course the last thing I was right now was okay. I shook my head at him again. No. Just no. “I love you,” he whispered.

            My sobs came harder. I couldn’t do this right now.

            “I love you, too,” I managed to choke out.

            “But…” he pushed.

            “But…I deserve better,” I whispered. The shock on his face was apparent and I felt like I was being suffocated. “I can’t, Dylan. I just can’t.”

Dylan:

            What was Lindsey saying to me right now? Was she breaking up with me? No. That couldn’t be happening.

But it was.

            “I deserve better,” she whispered. It felt like I’d be slapped. Her words were laced with truth. And the worst part about it was that I didn’t realize it until now. How stupid could I have been?  

            “What?” Was all I could manage to get out.

            “I can’t keep putting all of this effort in when you don’t do anything for me. I can’t keep waiting for you. Because the longer I wait, the more I break inside. And I just can’t do that to myself.” Her sobs were almost uncontrollable at this point. I didn’t know what to do. She went to go turn away from me. I reached for her hand. I couldn’t let her go. I just couldn’t. She stopped for a moment to turn to look back down at our hands. I felt a sliver of hope course through my body. But within moments, she slid her hand out of mine.

            And with that, she was walking away from me and there was nothing that I could do about it.            

            I was breaking into a million tiny pieces.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qsdq6SobWEA 

7.20.13: Reality Check

I felt like I’d been slapped. I actually put my hand to my face to make sure that it didn’t really happen. It stung like it had.

            His words rang in my ears and shock was clearly plastered on my face. He’d never spoken to me like that before. The worst part, though, was that it wasn’t mean; it was the truth.

            I didn’t know how to respond…so I didn’t. I walked away. I don’t know if he watched me go or if he turned his back on me, too, but either way, he didn’t come after me.

            That was okay, though. I didn’t want him to. 

Although this may not seem like it, this post is actually dedicated to one of my best friends. Sometimes (okay, most of the time), I need a reality check. He's not afraid to put me in my place and tell me when I'm being ridiculous.

Thank you, Jonathan...for keeping me in line, for always being there for me, for supporting my ice cream addiction, and mutually sharing my love for Taylor Swift. 

7.20.12: Memories

            I made him write for me.

            “I’ve never felt this way before,” he scribbled across my page in a messy script. My heart skipped and hope swelled inside of it like a balloon only to be quickly quieted by my head. No. That wasn’t going to happen. I didn’t want this…but it was being handed to me on a silver platter and that was difficult to ignore. His eyes searched mine and I felt my face flush. I looked away from him to the floor. He placed the pen on the table in front of me and shrugged his shoulders as if that was the best that he could do.

            He turned to leave and I let him. I watched him go and I thanked god for not letting him stay a moment longer.

            My mind flashed back to days earlier when he’d told me that he loved me. He knew that I didn’t feel the same. But he’d told me anyway.

            “And I don’t care if you think that it’s too soon but it’s how I feel. And you don’t have to say it back. But I want you to know.” And from that moment on, he always let me know. It made my stomach churn and I tortured him for a full month before I said it back. He never complained.

            It was sort of new to me: being wanted. He adored me. I hadn’t the slightest idea how I'd won his affections and I was in too dumbfounded a state to ask regardless.

            His love made me dumb. I let the balloon inside my heart grow and grow. He talked so animatedly about us, our future, that I was easily sucked in.

            Stupid.           

            I shook my head, clearing these memories and looked back down at the sheet of paper on my desk. One word, written in my own script, stood alone on the sea of white page: James. 

7.20.13: Nightmares

I tossed and turned until I was finally jolted from my sleep…or lack there of.

            The beds were hard and a sheet of paper would’ve been more comfortable than the sheets that were supposed to be designed to keep me warm at night. I shivered in response to that.

            My head swam, trying to make sense of what was reality and what was my dream. They’d been coming so vividly recently that they were difficult to ignore.

            I shook my head and wiped a few escaped tears away from my eyes. The sun shone in onto the grey-colored room walls making them seem slightly less…gray.

            My heart ached. How many days had it been? I counted on my hand. Too many. 

7.19.13: The Selection

            So, I’ve been in Spain for the past two weeks aka no blog posts. But, luckily, while I was there, I started reading a book called “The Selection,” by Kiera Cass. I cannot put it down. I’m not even a quarter through it and I love it.

            This book is a modern day fairy tale fused with the hunger games minus the gore and maybe with a little bit of Nicholas Sparks.

            Since I’m not too far into the book yet, I’ve decided to write down what I think will happen within the upcoming chapter(s). All characters, personalities, scenarios, places, etc. are strictly the wonderfully talented Kiera Cass’. If you’d like to find out what really happens…? Read her book. I highly recommend it.

            We were lined up, our poofy dresses bumping into one another. Orders were being barked at us; mainly things along the lines of, “as the TV monitor passes, smile like you’re in love with Prince Maxon.” I rolled my eyes at Sylvia, who was always teaching us our etiquette. How could I pretend that I was in love with Maxon? I haven’t even met his majesty yet. The viewing was the first time that we were meeting Maxon, he was meeting us, and the world was seeing the selection. Getting to knowing him alone would be exhausting considering I didn’t want to get to know him. Love him? Yeah, doubt it. That was basically like saying, “you and Aspen are going to live happily ever after and be perfectly content living in a lower caste.” That was never going to happen now. Especially since I was a three thanks to the selection and he was still a six. Plus he’d broken up with me before I even got my butt hauled all the way up here. The thought of Aspen sent a pang throughout my chest. I still loved him.

            But I didn’t have time to think about that right now. The man behind the camera, I’d already forgotten his name, was pointing at his mouth, indicating for us to smile. I looked to my left and then to my right where the rest of the 34 girls were adjusting smiles on their faces. I noticed Celeste, looking especially devious this morning. What had I gotten myself into?

            The doors to the Great Room swung open and in walked Maxon followed by the King and Queen. Maxon looked as stiff and rigid as he had when they first announced the selection. Could he be nervous? No. He was the prince, of course not. I pushed the thought out of my head.

            As Maxon began moving toward us, the TV monitors focused on him. I was grateful. The muscles in my face were starting to ache. My smile dulled a little out of pure exhaustion (I don’t know if I’ve ever smiled so long before).

            Maxon moved down the line, analyzing and judging each and every one of us. It was disgusting. I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes.

            When he got to me, though, he paused and did a double take. It must’ve been my red hair. He reached out to me, offering his hand. Because I could not deny any request of the prince (a rule of the selection), I placed my hand in his. He bent down and gently placed his lips to the back of my hand. 34 heads, along with every TV monitor in the room, whipped in my direction. I tried to conceal the blush playing at my cheeks and the shock that covered my face. I could just see mom gaping at the TV. and May would surely be squealing happy things about how Maxon and I were going to fall in love. Dad would be smiling behind his newspaper. And Aspen…? What would he do…?

            Before it had even started, it was over and Maxon's lips were leaving my hand. I blinked my eyes a couple of times, unsure if it were real or not. I didn’t collect my thoughts until Maxon had already proceeded to move down the line. He showed a couple of other girls favor with a caress of their face or a nod…but not one was kissed like I had been. 

            For the first time since aspen had let me go, I felt something inside of me and it welled up like a balloon in my heart: hope. That split second made me feel special again and maybe, just maybe, I could win this thing. 

7.13.13: TOD

How, when one has (or seemingly has) everything, can they yearn for more? And even more concerning, why is the nature of humans to continually want?