waking up

I think when you’re little you wake up and think all of these things about the world. You think it’s kind, endearing, and welcomes you with open arms. You think your parents will stay happy forever, you think your friends are the best, there’s nothing you would change. Life is good. Life is carefree, you can’t imagine it ever not being that way.

Then one day, things get harder. You become a little more observant. You realize that there’s more to life than the playground. Being hurt isn’t just falling off the swing set anymore, it’s when you don’t get invited to one of your best friends’ birthday parities. Or the boy in your class who didn’t pick you as his friend for the free lunch with your teacher. You remember the time you curled your hair for the first time and wore a dress. You remember your teacher asking you why you looked so dolled up today. You remember being embarrassed for the first time about your crush on that boy who didn’t feel the same way. It’s when you learned life wasn’t always fair. It’s when comparison started to begin and you really realized what inequality meant.

But life went on. You observed more things. Instead of elementary school drama, it turned into middle school. You feel like you’re a step behind everyone. The girls become pretty, but you still have your braces and acne. You start to lose confidence. The boys on the bus call you names; they make up rumors. You didn’t even know what those words meant, but you’re starting to learn. The clicks start to form; you find yourself lost in people. You realize what awkward small talk is. You realize that not everyone is a true friend. You drift from the people who used to be your best friends, and attempt to make new ones.

Classes feel harder, you start to learn what stress is. Life isn’t so easy anymore, it isn’t just a playground. The teachers get grouchy; they start making premade assumptions before they even meet you. You look at other girls and wonder why you don’t look that way too. Clothes become important. That bright yellow Juicy Couture tracksuit doesn’t cut it anymore; you need a new pair of Abercrombie jeans. Don’t mind the price, it’s style. You don’t want to look different, do you? You walk around the halls, talking about the same things. “That new girl is so mean.” “Yeah I know, I think so too,” no you don’t, you don’t even know her. What #1 says, is what #2 believes. Your opinion is irrelevant; you must follow everyone else’s.

Middle school ends, you join a new and bigger world called high school. This is the place you’ve dreamed of. You think your opinion will be heard, you’re mostly right. You think the boys will grow up and you’ll meet someone nice, maybe that’s true. You think that you’ll start fresh here. It’ll be easy. Dear God, it’s not.

Your freshman year of high school, everything is exciting. The classes are new; you’ve developed a new sense of freedom here. There’s more expected out of you, but you think you can do it. You notice girls changing. Abercrombie jeans are ridiculous now, are you 14? No, I’m 15. Well, now it’s True Religion, can you ever keep up?

Things like Homecoming Court become prevalent. Those who get elected are supposedly the most admired in the school, at least that’s what you thought. You shortly realize it’s all just a popularity contest. You thought high school was more than that, you thought personality would start to be valued. Nope, still just looks. The guys get excited at football games while watching the dancers; you always watch in the stands behind. Jealousy creeps up. Why can’t I be that girl? Cause you’re not.

You find a group of friends; you think they’re pretty solid. Little do you know, a year from now everything will change. You experiment now, you meet the older guys. You walk around the school in hopes of someone older admiring you. Little do you understand, it’s never for the right reasons. They invite you to parties, but you’re still to scared to try anything new. You admire the older girls; they seem like they have their shit together. Oh my God, no they don’t. You meet a boy, you date. He was nice, but too boring. You get confused. You find someone else. Too bad you didn’t break up with him yet.

You start your sophomore year. You’re that girl that gets elected on to court; you think life is pretty good right now. Except the fact that you’re confused as hell, have no idea what you’re doing, and there’s a kid playing tricks on your mind every day. He tells you he loves you, he asks you for a picture. You ponder the thought because you think this is how high school works. So you do it. Nothing bad happens, but you feel like an idiot. Always will too. How could you do that to yourself?

That guy who said he loved you introduced you to new things, he said you should take a shot. You did it. You find yourself in a deeper hole than ever. There’s no way out now. The shots become a frequent weekend activity, your friends have open houses. The girls who haven’t done these things think you’re going insane. They spread rumors, or really were they? You walk around with your head down. You plug your headphones in. “I just have to get through the day,” becomes a common mentality. Your boyfriend gets worried, you’re worried too. You don’t tell him though; you want to sort things out. Or do you?

Your boyfriend breaks up with you. You think life hates you. Everyone’s out to get you, this is the worst time in your life. Trust me, you’ll be proved once again that that isn’t true. You turn rebellious; just because you want to hide how really sad you actually are. You start to think you aren’t good enough; the first thing you look at is your body. You’re so fat, Jesus, 120 pounds. What are you?

You stop eating for awhile. You’re breaking out on a daily basis and hiding in your room. The good news is, you’re down to 111. You feel healthy again, at least for awhile. Boys start to look at you. Single and skinny; two things you think guys really like. Too bad the only one you wanted didn’t like you too. You start to eat again.

You’re quite sad how things have ended up, you really don’t want to be anywhere. You’re not wanted. You show up still, have to maintain an image. God, if they only knew what was hiding behind those eyes of yours. If they only knew…Junior year begins, you started to take birth control because of your anxiety and acne. You gained like 10 pounds. You basically wanna shove your head in a pillow for the rest of your life. No one thinks you gained weight, but you can feel it. Soon, you get off that pill and lose it within two weeks. Things are better, right?

You’re snapchatting that boy you met at the end of summer; you think he’s perfect. Nothing like any of the guys you’ve met before, he’s nice. You put yourself in his brain. You make him get to know you, but he didn’t really want to at first. You were just a friend, maybe with some benefits. He loved someone else; you were just a distraction.

You give him an ultimatum; you start to realize your worth. You’re more of a person than you ever were before. He doesn’t love her anymore, he wants you. You get to know him, never know if it’s what you want, but you decide to really give it a chance. You cut that guy off from freshman year, it’s time to grow up. You go on dates, real ones; you even ask him to plan them. It’s all about the impressions. If I can be this cool, sane, and pretty girl, will he learn to like me? You avoid the touchy subjects at all costs, he can’t know the real you.

You get closer. He actually is pretty neat. He’s got some baggage, but you were always a fixer upper. You like the challenge. He distracts you. He convinces you that life is great, only if you’re with him though. The separation anxiety will start to kick in. For the most part, junior year is great. You quit that God awful therapy for your panic attacks, and saw a psychiatrist. She couldn’t believe you made it without meds. Your anxiety is shortly (somewhat) relieved. You have a boyfriend you love. You distance yourself from the drama of your friends, and pop in whenever you want to.

Then you go to prom for the first time. The best night of your life, right? You look perfect. You’ve never been more excited. You have a blast at pictures, then you get on the bus. Your anxiousness and social anxiety kicks in. He wonders why you won’t dance. You host the after party. It’s a catastrophe. It reminds you why you stopped hanging out with your friends in the first place. They always act like intoxicated idiots.

You pull through junior year. You take the ACT, you still suck, but you’re okay. You say, “I love you,” for the first time and actually mean it. You’ve never felt this way before. You’re so scared for him to leave for college; your happy place will disappear. You’re lucky though, you’ll have the summer to prepare. Just kidding, that’s bullshit.

The summer is spent with him, him, and more him. You loved most of it, besides the topic of college. You didn’t do anything too risky, but you felt pretty good. You were in a good spot with most of your friends. Everything was okay. The last weeks before school approach, you’re gone almost all of them. You spend time with your family, and his. You hear some good, and some bad news. You sit through one of the most difficult talks of your life and don’t understand why your faith has never been more challenged.

He leaves for college. You make dinner for the first time night before, you say your goodbyes. “It’s only 20 minutes away,” they said. I never knew how far that would feel until it actually happened. There are moments of clarity, and some with none at all. You visit often, but he wants to be alone. He’s a college kid, that’s what college kids do.

You try to get used to the partying, the confusion, the unknown. It’s so much harder than you ever thought, you feel like you’re breaking. A two way street isn’t two when the other isn’t compromising. School sucks. You hate your classes; senior year was supposed to be fun. You never see any of your friends, and you hate football games. There’s nothing to do in this city. Just when you think the fighting, sadness, and security issues could any worse. You find out she got sicker.

Your boyfriend’s mom; who you quickly learned to love after months of trying to impress. She had cancer, a shitty case of it too. Your heart starts to hurt. The helplessness kicks in. She’s had it for four years, but now she’s on hospice. Things have taken a turn for the worse.

You’re there for him, and his whole family. You can’t even imagine the toll on their hearts. This whole situation is just a testament of faith. Can they do it? Can you do it? What can you do? You stick around. Your first two weekends of senior year are spent with him and his family, struggling to find ways to support.

You give hugs, write cards, give food, but nothing seems to ease the pain. You’re struggling too, God, why this family? The first weekend’s spent filled with goodbyes. You try to hug the pain out of them, but you can still see it in their eyes. You’re trying to hold it together, but it’s so hard. You remember the few, but always meaningful comments she made to you. You’ll always love the color light pink on you, it’ll remind you of her. She thought you looked beautiful in it.

He’s mad all the time. At you, at himself, at the world. Can you do anything right? You feel like the bad guy, but all you’re trying to do is be there. You have to say goodbye; all you can mutter is “you’re an amazing woman.” “I was,” she said, if she only knew what we were all thinking. She’d become the inspiration of your life in a matter of months. So strong, so courageous, 6 kids? How can you manage all of this with 6 kids? She is an amazing woman, always was. Never stopped.

She passes the next day. Could life honestly throw me one hurdle, come at me please. You want to make everything better; you can’t. Just be there when you can. Next weekend, the arrangements begin. The wake, the funeral. Don’t even want to get into specifics. She was a beautiful woman, that’s all I can say. She also raised hell of a family, you can’t even imagine. Her passing will continuously break my heart in the days to come.

You see the impact she made on everyone; especially her children. How will they carry on? You feel this need to be there, but you know you won’t be forever. This, by far, will be the biggest challenge you’ve faced.

So, senior year. Things should be great, but they’re really just not. You sit and wonder why God does the things he does. You question why you of all people are the one in this situation, and how to do a better job in it without losing your mind. You don’t know how to save him in fear of losing yourself. The wait for college acceptances begins, and the anxiousness and fear hovers over you. Every. Single. Day.

How will it end? I don’t know.

why is life so God damn unfair

I mean, I think this phrase comes up pretty often, but what the hell?

How many obstacles can you throw at people until they’ve hit their breaking point?

Why do you keep doing these things that are so unfair with no remorse?

You just keep doing it over and over again.

I want to scream. I want to tell you to stop. But how on earth can I control what you do?

I can’t.

There are those days when people come up to you and tell you that God has a plan, and that everything truly will be okay if you give it time. LIFE. I keep giving you time. OVER AND OVER AGAIN. How much of my time will I give you until it’s too late?

You keep taking people away from me. You keep shortening their time. You keep breaking hearts. You keep making us sad. You keep expecting us to grow, to be better, to move on.

How am I supposed to be better when all you do is make me sad? You keep giving these temporary people and temporary places to create this temporary sense of relief. When will something be permanent?

When will anything be permanent when all you do is turn things to dust?

When will the good times stay good? When will God tell me his plan? I can seek refuge all I want, but when will I ever gain understanding?

I just don’t understand, life. What are you trying to do to me?

Things I’ve learned PT 2

The night before my first day of senior year, and last day of my high school career has arrived. My mind is crowded with anticipation, fear, and happiness all at the same time.

I’ve learned a lot about myself this year, probably more than I ever have before. Junior year brought the best and the worst out of me, and I can’t distinguish which one there was more of. My year was mostly spent happy, but also very stressed at the same time. I didn’t and still don’t know where I’m going. I’m still stuck at school for another long year. Lastly, I’m still as cynical as I was at the end of my freshman year hating every day here just as before.

There are lots of things that made it better though I must say. My family and friends were pretty great and always there when I needed them. I got a boyfriend who made my life 1,000 times better as it seemed. I have a roof over my head and a life to look forward to. The life that I’ve always spent looking forward to; a life in college. Although I’m not done taking my tries at the ACT, I have solid options and hopefully will end up happy wherever I go.

But right now what I can really say is, I take things for granted a lot. I take for granted how good life is to me just based off of singular events and people in my life. I know people who are, and have been, struggling for years. I know people who don’t know if they’ll make it another day. I also know people who have to worry for the safety of others, ALL the time. I’m pretty freaking lucky as much as I hate to admit it.

I go to a school where teachers provide and promote a well rounded education every day. I live in a house where my family provides almost everything for me without a thank you. I have friends that would jump hoops for me whenever I ask them to.

I’m failing to get to the point here, so let me state this more clearly. Life sucks sometimes, to be honest, mine right now kinda even sucks. But honestly, it has to get better. Be optimistic. If you spend years dreading what’s to come and being unappreciative to those who matter, you’re obviously going to hate life. I’m not saying I take my own word by any means, but going into my senior year I’m starting to realize life is a little bigger than just me.

There are so many things to do and people to meet, always be openminded. Life will never stay boring unless you make it that way. I sometimes feel like where I live is the worst place in the world, but then I realize how much freaking worse it could actually be. If you’re bored, switch things up.

Do what makes you happy and keep whoever makes you happier. If neither of those things happen, you’re bound to a life filled with disappointment.

As cynical and afraid I am of the year and whats to come, I know how much I’ll end up missing this time in my life. Life is easy, easier than it probably ever will be. I’ve had the same friends since seventh grade and I don’t know what life will look like without them. I live with my beyond supportive family and my mom who does my laundry every single day.

Focus less on your doubts and more on your joys. Take life as it comes to you and always work to be more. Life isn’t easy, but usually we’re the ones that are making it harder.

Life is good, God has a plan, and things will and can be better. Always do your best.

 

 

 

Why didn’t they tell me? 

My parents raised to me into who I thought would be a strong, well rounded, enthusiastic, big hearted, cautious minded woman.

They taught me to navigate towards love always instead of hate. They taught me the importance of second chances and to give others the benefit of the doubt. But most of all, they taught me to choose wisely who I let into my life because no matter what, they’d leave their mark.

What my parents forgot to teach me along the way was the disappointment of it all. The heartbreak of losing the ones who said they’d never leave, and afterwards the doubts and worries of letting anyone else inside. 

They didn’t tell me how bad it hurt. How bad life hurt; the times it would knock me down and not pick me back up. The times where my heart grew bigger than my head, so I just let myself shatter completely.

They didn’t tell me about the walls I’d shortly build. Brick by brick they stacked up; too hard to climb and too heavy to tear down. Every time a brick was added, another piece of me drifted further and further away.

The worst of it all was, they didn’t tell me who I’d be. They didn’t tell me I’d go from a lively, optimistic girl into a walking wall inside the body of a woman. They didn’t tell me that I’d keep falling apart.

Why didn’t they tell me I’d never stop falling apart?

long time, no write

Since I haven’t blogged in months and my life has turned back into an uneventful, summer bliss I figured it was time to get back into the writing game.

Unlike sophomore year summer Emilee, junior year summer Emilee has a minimum amount of complaints about her life.

Life is good. Really good. Annoyingly good. Good enough to make me unable to write the things I used to, and process emotions the way I used to. I hate to say it, but I’ve become one of those people; a person who is annoyingly talking about the joys in her life.

My parents are great… in fact, greater than ever. We get along? I don’t know how that happened within the span of a year, but I’d like to think that my anxiety meds had a GREAT deal to do with it. Thank you Prozac, you’re the shit. Since we’re on the topic of prozac, my dog used to take it too. He died, but I’d like to think the pill made both of our lives much better. RIP Baxter, I miss you. You were also “the shit.”

My friends… now that’s a subject that seems to never drastically change throughout the years. A lot of work as usual, but luckily I have a boyfriend that gives me the power to avoid most of them 99.9 % of the time. If I could redo anything starting from the beginning of my freshman year, I would choose befriending on close manners MORE than 5 females.

The thing that’s wrong with befriending ONLY 5 females is, they also only befriend 5 females. Therefore, you have the same friends. All the time. No breaks. With more and more and more shit piling between you over the many years. And what’s even worse than your 5 female friends, is your multiple male friends. The chubby, weird, AWESOME guys I befriended back in seventh grade have now learned to think with more than their brains. Instead, they now uses their penises.

Okay, okay, but now I’ll skip back to the positives. I mentioned earlier I have a boyfriend.  I love my boyfriend. He’s better than prozac, he’s like my savior. He rubs my head and gives me back massages when I’m tense. He deals with my anxiousness and awkwardness on a daily basis and still treats me like I’m the best thing ever (I’m so not). But what am I then? LUCKY. I’m lucky that I learned what I didn’t want and finally found what I did. Someone who’s kind, adorable, attentive, and most of all imperfect. Perfect is a word meant for the oblivious and ignorant. No one will ever be perfect. But damn, he’s pretty close. But what I have learned about love is, the imperfections become your favorite parts. You love someone for all the things you actually do LOVE about them, but you also learn to love the things you hate too.  I wouldn’t change a single thing. I mean I wouldn’t change a thing other  than the fact that he’s a year older and leaving me for college next year. That’s going to be a large, large, large, large, did i mention large? BUMMER!

Lastly (for today), I think that I’ve grown up. I learned my priorities and kinda, sorta what I want from the world and people around me. No, I’m not necessarily getting it. But I do plan to, someday. My life is full of somedays. But I like somedays because they give me something to look forward to. I can’t help but hope for that big journalism career, or going to the schools that are unattainable for me. I can’t help but dream of my perfect life with my three adorable boys and beautiful, kind husband. Someday sounds pretty good to me, of course if I make it there.

 

something I didn’t know

What I didn’t know was, you weren’t the answer. You never were.

And when I met someone else, I realized it; no one else is, or ever would be the answer to my problems.

The hollowness of my heart was my own problem, and no one else’s.

When I learned that, everything became fuller. More lively. More happy.

A relationship isn’t meant to fulfill you, it’s meant to be the cherry on top of it all.

Once your flaws and perfections are learned to be embraced rather than withheld, that’s when you’re ready.

You’re ready to be more. Not just yours, but someone else’s.

And when you do this, and it’s the right relationship, you shouldn’t feel like you’re someone else. You should feel exactly yourself, and maybe even learn a little more about yourself in the process.

A relationship isn’t meant to tear you down. A relationship isn’t meant to make you second guess your decisions. It should give you a level of certainty and comfort you may’ve never attained once before.

A relationship shouldn’t consume you, it should be just a little extra to you. It’s a tie, but it shouldn’t take over your entire life. It should just be another single part of it.

A relationship should push you to be better and feel better about all aspects of life. If your relationship isn’t doing that, it isn’t a relationship.

unfinished short story

He found himself sitting in the corner in the back of the little worn down café. Facing the window, rain droplets fell down one by one. He traced them with his finger as he stared into the glass, watching the cars go by. Dèjá vu crossed his mind of the day he met her. This same table, once before.

He suddenly missed the conversation from the other side of the table. He missed the sound of her laughter at his not so funny jokes.

For once in his life, he realized he made a mistake. The girl of his dreams was on a plane back to where she called home, and he no longer had an idea of where his was.

She was home.

 

 

 

prompt #3

There’s something about the way you look at her. A way that’s so apparent to everyone around you, even me. But she doesn’t look back at you the same. She never has.

Despite that, you still keep looking with this impeccable glimmer in your eyes. Your dream, you think, standing right in front of you. Almost a fingertip away.

But I stand next to you and watch as your eyes slowly deceive you. You follow her as she drifts further and further away. All that’s left: an eerie trace of what used to be.

But you hold on, onto those little memories that seem so big now. I see them fading. But you stand gripping to them with all of your might, afraid.

Afraid  of looking beyond the closed spaces.

Afraid of walking outside your comfort zone.

Afraid of seeing what’s outside that door.

Deep down, you know. You know she walked out of that door before you even opened it, you just didn’t know it then.

I hope you see it now.

I hope you walk away.

You deserve to walk away.

 

 

walking away prompt

And he watched her walk away in utter astonishment. He’d never seen someone walk away from him with such ease before.

She walked with her head up high, little did he know, refusing to look back. It looked so easy for her, as if he had never mattered at all.

He sat with his back slouched to the bench, thinking. Thinking of what he had just done, of who she was, and of who she would be. Thinking that he’d probably never know.

The more he thought, the further away she seemed to be. She walked step by step until she was only a distant memory in his mind. And he was right. She was.

She wouldn’t look back, ever. Not even for a second.

The moment she chose to do that, she knew she had the power to choose anything.

And with knowing that, she chose to keep walking.

Far away from the restrictions life held for her, far away from the things that tied her down to one place at a time.

She chose to do the things he always told her she couldn’t.

With the knowledge of knowing she could, she did.

She dyed her hair the way she had wanted to.  She went to that bar across the street, the one HE hated. She ate pizza for breakfast. She wrote what she thought was important. And the thing she loved the most was, she didn’t care.

She was happy.

And she made a choice to keep walking away whenever she wasn’t.

 

The art of passing through

We all know that our lives contain thousands of beginnings and endings. 

In the midst of those times, people walk in and out of our lives.

I have yet to understand just why people would be placed in our lives if they’re eventually intending on leaving. Most people think that it’s a lesson and prepares us for the people who will actually end up staying by our sides. 

Either way, even when we don’t exactly notice it, we’re always passing through.

We’re carelessly walking through people’s lives, allowing them to connect with us, and then leaving them for one reason are another. It’s not that we see these people as insignificant, it’s more than we are so self absorbed that their significance to us becomes blinded. 

It’s usually months later (or years in my case) that we realize we made a big mistake by just passing through. 

Even though we may see it as a mistake, it left an impact. Maybe not on us, but rather who’s life we decided to walk in on and then out. 

We leave little imprints wherever we go. On hearts, on minds, we changed something. 

There’s no way to determine whether we’ll be passing through or sticking around. Because of that, I think it’s really important to leave the right memory.

What I mean by that is, how will we be remembered? 

What will you do to make sure you left in a clean and kind way? Not a way that leaves the other person in 100 pieces that is always waiting for someone else to them pick up. 

I believe the best way is to pass through and not return. If you choose to leave someone’s life, intend on staying out of it. When you do realize that it was a big mistake, realize that it was yours. Don’t feel the necessity to come running out of nowhere back into someone’s life because you start to realize that back then it was easy.

Secondly, 

Don’t leave without a specific and declared reason. We all know how hard it is to have someone leave our lives without ever having the answer as to “why?”. Be honest, whatever the reaction may be is the right one. 

Leaving with no reason, and no response does no good for anyone. It leaves an open door for the other persons curiosity, and tugs on every last string of their heart.

Lastly,

The “fade out” method.

I think it’s bullshit. You’re fading, and we see you drifting away. We’re trying to reach out and you ignore it. It’s so obvious and so rude. 

If the relationship meant anything at all to you, I would hope you leave it with a little respect. Don’t expect the other person to drift away along with you, it doesn’t always work that way. 

Imagine watching a plane fly alway in slow motion while the other person is standing inside looking out the airport window. That’s what you’re doing. That person is watching you over a slow, restless period of time walk alway from them. They’re trying to reach out but just can’t seem to get their fingertips to touch. 

You could choose to give them a day or weeks long time of hurt, but instead you’re giving it to them over a course of month +. 

Don’t just “fade out.” 

We pass through each other’s lives on a daily basis, but I can’t stress how important is to remember that some relationships require a little more attention than others. 

Everything happens for a reason, but it’s also really great to know what that reason is.