I don't know if you can tell by reading my blogs, but I'm currently going through one of the more... difficult times in my life. Only two people know of the actual situation (person involved, and person somewhat involved), but if you actually know me, you've probably noticed that my tweets lately have been on the more dark and depressing side. Sorry about that! I'm also sorry about my recent blogging, or LACK of blogging. I've stated before that I blog when I learn, in the hopes that others will learn. I've also stated that within every experience is a lesson to learn. Well, I'm going through an experience right now, and haven't exactly found the big lesson yet, which is why I haven't been blogging so much, and when I do, they're pretty short. I try to blog about things people might care about, not my personal problems. That's saved for Twitter. Anyway, this post will be pretty long, but it is going to be another of my more personal posts, saying something that I need off my chest. So, I've given you fair warning. Now, here we go!
I've been watching a lot of Jenna Marbles videos lately. I've always been a fan, but, in order to either kill time, or take my mind off of the situation at hand, I have started watching them at an abnormal rate. One of them that I was watching today was about something that I have already addressed within a few of my other posts: telling people you love them, because you never know when that chance may be taken away. So, for all of the other Jenna Marbles fans out there, you know that she makes humorous videos, so her "love poem" was more comedic than anything. But it really did make me realize that just blogging about maybe four people isn't that big of a deal. I mean, there are many more people that I want to thank, for many more reasons. So, let's do it!
First person: My mom.
My mom has NO idea of what's going on with me right now. As far as she's concerned, I'm that happy go-lucky kid that I've always been. I never bring my problems into the house, I deal with them where they need to be dealt with and don't let my family get involved. I've always been like that, an independent fighter. But my mom makes my days much better too. When I was in New York, and having problems there as well, I just wanted my mom some nights. I don't get homesick, or usually miss my family, but I wanted her there with me. Not so she could help me with what was going on, but just so I could know that she was there.
Second: My dad.
I thank my dad because... I don't really know why. Just because he's my dad? Just because he's there? I guess it's because I was a daddy's girl when I was little, and I still sort of am one? I feel very grateful to actually have my dad in my life, though because there are some people who don't. He's always been involved in my life. No, he doesn't know my problems, and he doesn't help me deal with drama and such, but he's a somewhat protective dad. I'd rather have a protective dad in my life than no dad at all, or a dad that I could only spend limited time with.
Third/fourth person/s: My two brothers!
No, they are not actually my brothers. They're both girls, actually, and we're not related at all. But, I think that they might be my best friends in the world. If someone asked me to list my best friends, they'd either be the first people I say, or the second. I love them SO much, just because things are light and airy when I'm with them. There are no heavy conversations, or dramatic moments. We have never once been in a fight. They're the people that, although they're not fixing my problems, they make my day 72038201038481 times better, just because they're there. I seriously mean it when I say that their presence, or just one of them's presence, can make a horrible day into a good one. Just because they're there, to make me smile, laugh, and feel happy and good. There's no one else that can make me feel that way, and I cannot thank either of them enough for it. I really can't. I cannot describe to anyone how much I love these two. I would do anything for them. What I'm saying right now isn't even a fraction of how much I love them. I just... I love them so incredibly much, and they mean the WORLD to me.
Fifth person: My best friend.
Truth be told, I have a lot of best friends. My brothers, mentioned above, are two of them, others that will be mentioned later on in the post are some of them, so when I say that she's my best friend, I mean that she's ONE of my best friends. But she's the one that's most often there. At school, and at the theater. Although she doesn't know all of my problems, she tries to help me any way that she possibly can. She honestly tries to be the best friend that she can possibly be. We argue over the STUPIDEST things, and she annoys the HECK out of me sometimes. (More times than not.) But she's always there. Whether we're at school, at the theater, getting frozen yogurt, or at the mall. She's there.
Sixth person: My stalker/closeted moat.
Well, I don't know where to start with this girl. I've posted MANY times about her, and I hope she knows how much I care about her and love her (so, so much.) But we've recently hit some rough spots, and some bumps in the road. She still hasn't forgiven me for what I have done, and I can't say that I've forgiven her. But I'm TRYING to resolve the problem. I'm honestly sitting in my room every night at 4 am, crying, and stressing out because I don't know what to do anymore, about ANY of this. And she's not really trying to fix it, like I am. It makes me wonder if she still cares about our friendship. After crying about it, and thinking it over, I realize that it doesn't matter if she cares anymore. Well, it does, but it's slightly less unimportant... because I care. The saying, "To make a friend, you have to be a friend," is true. She might have stopped being my friend, but that doesn't mean I stopped being hers. I still consider her my best friend. I can only sit and hope that she'll talk to me, and try to work it out, as I have been trying to. Until then, I'll keep texting her and annoying her, telling her that I love her. Because I do. When you're best friends with someone, you don't let mistakes get in the way of the friendship. I don't want this particular friend to go anywhere. I don't want her to leave my life. Not now. Not ever.
Seventh person: The OTHER person who knows about this whole fight/argument/problem.
I cannot be more thankful for this person at this moment. I can't. Throughout this entire thing, she has been 100% on my side, fighting for, and with me. And my goodness, how can I ever repay her for this? I don't think I can. Even when I feel alone, she is right there. Even when I feel like I'm fighting a losing battle, she's on my team. I honestly can't describe how thankful I am for this person for being there. For believing in, and supporting me. For being an overall great friend. I just can't explain to her, or anyone how much I am thankful for this. I will try to repay her, but I highly doubt that I can.
The list could go on and on, but, a) it's 4:00 in the morning, and b) there are WAY too many people. If you have gotten to the bottom of this, I congratulate you, you read a lot, and most of it was probably boring. I congratulate you even MORE if you weren't one of the people listed above, just because you wasted a good five minutes of your life reading something unimportant while you could've been catching squirrels, or hugging cantaloupes, or making something of your life. So, I congratulate, and thank you. If I know you, and you want to know what I thank you for and why I love you, just ask! I'll gladly answer, there are no stupid questions. If you were listed, and you read this, please tell me, and tell me what you thought about this, I'd highly appreciate it. Anyway, thanks again for reading!
Now go and tell some people that you love them. You might not be able to tomorrow.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Mistakes
When we were little, we often called people our best friends forever, or our best friends for life. Then, either summer would come, and you'd no longer see each other, or you'd get in a fight and stop being friends. You'd learn nothing from these arguments, and soon thereafter, decide on a new best friend forever. So, that "forever" didn't hold through. Why? Because when you're little, and you make a mistake, you don't learn what you could do better next time. You don't learn any lessons. You just know that you did something wrong and that there's a consequence to that. Or, at least that's how I was when I was little. Then, as you get older, you still don't really see the lessons in things. You start to see them when you're much older, and you think back on that experience. When you're little, without too many problems, a friend is someone to entertain you. To make you laugh, and smile, and to play games with. That's basically what a friend is when you're little. Only until you get older do you realize that friends have more purposes than that. And that the "ideal" friend can meet all, or most, of those purposes, without any faults or mistakes. Well, that's just plain stupid.
You're human. You make mistakes. Your friends (I'm assuming) are human. They make mistakes. Every human being makes mistakes. But mistakes are how we learn and grow. There will never be someone that you meet that has NEVER made a mistake. You will never have a friend that won't do you wrong, at least once. Why? Because we're human. Once you get that through your mind is when you can REALLY be friends with someone. So, learn that fact, get off your high horse, lower your expectations, and then go find a friend. Everyone makes mistakes.
As you get older, when you call someone your "best friend forever", that forever will suddenly have more meaning. When you were little, you thought that "forever" was set in stone, and you didn't have to do anything to support it. It'd just happen, and when you're old and about to die, you'd still be friends. Without effort. Well that, again, is STUPID. Yes, you can be best friends forever. You can be friends until the moment that you die. But not without work. Yes, friendship is work. It's not all sunshine and daisies. Everything is not going to fall into place. You have to MAKE it go into place. A lot of that work is being a good friend. That means listening, not telling their secrets, cheering them up, encouraging them, being nice, etc. But another large quantity of that work is forgiving them.
Like I said before, EVERYONE makes mistakes. So, if you're looking for someone who will never do anything wrong, then too bad for you. Because you're not gonna find that person. Mistakes are... well, MISTAKES. The person that made that mistake didn't mean for it to happen. They didn't do it on purpose. Or maybe, they did it on purpose, but they didn't mean for it to blow up out of proportion. Mistakes are just accidents. Something that's thrown at us randomly, and that you have to get past. You have to learn from your mistakes, that's why they're there. To learn. So when someone does you wrong, just forgive them. It was an accident. It was a mistake. They didn't mean it. It's not their fault. Everyone does it. You do too. So, don't let it get to the point of no return. FORGIVE THEM.
If something so small as a mistake made you stop being friends, were you ever really best friends in the first place?
You're human. You make mistakes. Your friends (I'm assuming) are human. They make mistakes. Every human being makes mistakes. But mistakes are how we learn and grow. There will never be someone that you meet that has NEVER made a mistake. You will never have a friend that won't do you wrong, at least once. Why? Because we're human. Once you get that through your mind is when you can REALLY be friends with someone. So, learn that fact, get off your high horse, lower your expectations, and then go find a friend. Everyone makes mistakes.
As you get older, when you call someone your "best friend forever", that forever will suddenly have more meaning. When you were little, you thought that "forever" was set in stone, and you didn't have to do anything to support it. It'd just happen, and when you're old and about to die, you'd still be friends. Without effort. Well that, again, is STUPID. Yes, you can be best friends forever. You can be friends until the moment that you die. But not without work. Yes, friendship is work. It's not all sunshine and daisies. Everything is not going to fall into place. You have to MAKE it go into place. A lot of that work is being a good friend. That means listening, not telling their secrets, cheering them up, encouraging them, being nice, etc. But another large quantity of that work is forgiving them.
Like I said before, EVERYONE makes mistakes. So, if you're looking for someone who will never do anything wrong, then too bad for you. Because you're not gonna find that person. Mistakes are... well, MISTAKES. The person that made that mistake didn't mean for it to happen. They didn't do it on purpose. Or maybe, they did it on purpose, but they didn't mean for it to blow up out of proportion. Mistakes are just accidents. Something that's thrown at us randomly, and that you have to get past. You have to learn from your mistakes, that's why they're there. To learn. So when someone does you wrong, just forgive them. It was an accident. It was a mistake. They didn't mean it. It's not their fault. Everyone does it. You do too. So, don't let it get to the point of no return. FORGIVE THEM.
If something so small as a mistake made you stop being friends, were you ever really best friends in the first place?
Sunday, June 17, 2012
The Story of Our Lives
Life is nothing but a story. There are characters, settings, major events, minor events, subplots, emotions, descriptions, the story-line, a beginning, a middle, an end, everything. There's how every character acts as opposed to what they think, and when we're reading it from third-person, we can see all of that. You're watching yourself make choices. So, you, yourself are the reader of the story, main character of the story, and author of the story, all at the same time. And then, every other character has their own story that they're reading and writing, and every character in their story has their own also. Life is honestly just a story. I'm sure you tell small stories of what happened on a certain occasion sometimes. I'm sure you tell large stories of what happened sometimes. I do. Everything I blog has a story to go with it. Those are both the minor and major events of my life. The subplots, and the story-line. They're parts of my story, just as the stories you tell are part of yours. And having that said, everything in your story is divided into chapters as well. And those chapters are not hard to determine, either.
A week ago was the closing show for The Sound of Music. It was a sad time for some, and a time or relief and less stress for others. The whole process it was, right from my audition, to the closing of the show, was a chapter. the auditioning and getting the timing wrong at the beginning, complaining about it, and having everyone telling me I did great, getting a callback and being put in the finals for the role of 'Louisa', being upset after the callback, getting cast as a nun, first read-through, first real rehearsal, many more rehearsals, sudden director change, blocking the show, loads of rehearsals, tech week, opening weekend, brush-ups on Thursdays, another weekend, a huge fight with my best friend, forgiveness, another weekend, cast and crew party, exclusion, another weekend... and then it's over. That was all one chapter of my life. And guess what? The next day, I was headed to New York. The immediate start of another chapter.
Lying in bed the night of the last show of Sound of Music, I realized something. I realized that, after everything that had happened, all the drama, right from the beginning until the end throughout Sound of Music... was mostly over, just because SoM ended. That chapter of my life had closed. Things were still a bit rocky on that day, but the show was over. And within 12 hours, a whole new chapter would begin. That made everything seem a bit more trivial, and small. Like my worries and problems were a little bit more relaxed, at ease. Like they were easier to handle, just because the show was over. That saying, "All's well that ends well," is true. It doesn't matter how you got to the end, as long as you get there. It doesn't matter what you had to do to resolve the problem as long as it's resolved. Some chapters of your life may be shorter or longer than others, but they're still chapters. They still had their ups and downs, problems and solutions, their good days and bad days. And at the end of the chapter, things will be okay. A little bit shaky, yes, if you haven't resolved it by the end of the chapter, but still okay. And if they're not...
You have a whole other chapter to write.
A week ago was the closing show for The Sound of Music. It was a sad time for some, and a time or relief and less stress for others. The whole process it was, right from my audition, to the closing of the show, was a chapter. the auditioning and getting the timing wrong at the beginning, complaining about it, and having everyone telling me I did great, getting a callback and being put in the finals for the role of 'Louisa', being upset after the callback, getting cast as a nun, first read-through, first real rehearsal, many more rehearsals, sudden director change, blocking the show, loads of rehearsals, tech week, opening weekend, brush-ups on Thursdays, another weekend, a huge fight with my best friend, forgiveness, another weekend, cast and crew party, exclusion, another weekend... and then it's over. That was all one chapter of my life. And guess what? The next day, I was headed to New York. The immediate start of another chapter.
Lying in bed the night of the last show of Sound of Music, I realized something. I realized that, after everything that had happened, all the drama, right from the beginning until the end throughout Sound of Music... was mostly over, just because SoM ended. That chapter of my life had closed. Things were still a bit rocky on that day, but the show was over. And within 12 hours, a whole new chapter would begin. That made everything seem a bit more trivial, and small. Like my worries and problems were a little bit more relaxed, at ease. Like they were easier to handle, just because the show was over. That saying, "All's well that ends well," is true. It doesn't matter how you got to the end, as long as you get there. It doesn't matter what you had to do to resolve the problem as long as it's resolved. Some chapters of your life may be shorter or longer than others, but they're still chapters. They still had their ups and downs, problems and solutions, their good days and bad days. And at the end of the chapter, things will be okay. A little bit shaky, yes, if you haven't resolved it by the end of the chapter, but still okay. And if they're not...
You have a whole other chapter to write.
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Life's What You Make It
I haven't posted in some time, and the last one was probably unimportant to most people. It might've even been unimportant to the person who it was for, but I meant everything I said, and it needed to be said, so it's there. Anyway, I want to speak of something that I could go into MUCH more detail about. And I probably will, eventually. But for right now, I'm going to start off the post, by agreeing with a certain blonde-haired, name-rhyming Disney star: Hannah Montana.
"Life's what you make it."
When I was about eight, and had first heard this song, it wasn't any kind of life lesson, or anything that spoke to me. It was a song. That's all it was. I had liked Hannah Montana (a lot) at the time, and of course, I knew this song. But now that I think about it, this song (or the lyrics to it) make sense. They show something we all need to learn.
A couple of days ago, someone told me that I was negative. Well, they're wrong. No, I am not the perkiest flower in the garden. I'm not always smiling, and I do occasionally cry. I cry when I'm sad. I cry when I'm upset. I cry when I'm frustrated, irritated, hurt or angered. But I only cry when there's a reason to. That's not being a pessimist. That's being a realist.
I told the person that I wasn't negative, I was realistic, and they said, "Yeah. That's negative. Life is negative." And no, that's not true. Not at all. That's a negative person's opinion on it. Not an optimist, or a realist, like me. I didn't get a chance to tell this person why life isn't negative (we had to change a child), but here's the reason: Life really is what you make it. If you make life happy, it will be.
People can say, "But that doesn't make sense! You can't make yourself happy!" But yes, you can. As I stated in my earlier post, "Being Happy", it's very possible. It just takes some deep thought, and realization, that whatever problem you have, either a) can't be resolved, or b) can be resolved. If it can't be, then there's no need to worry about it. Worrying won't make things happier. And worrying won't resolve it. If it can be resolved... then resolve it. It's really very simple, actually.
"But it's not! It's a lot more difficult then that!"
No. It's not.
It might take some time and deep thought, but you can realize this. It took me a while (13 years) to understand this. But it's true. Life isn't a negative place. It's only negative when you bring it upon yourself.
So cry your eyes out when the problem first arises. And then, fix it. If you can't, then don't sweat it. It is what it is.
You can only make amends with the situation at hand once you make amends with yourself.
"Life's what you make it."
When I was about eight, and had first heard this song, it wasn't any kind of life lesson, or anything that spoke to me. It was a song. That's all it was. I had liked Hannah Montana (a lot) at the time, and of course, I knew this song. But now that I think about it, this song (or the lyrics to it) make sense. They show something we all need to learn.
A couple of days ago, someone told me that I was negative. Well, they're wrong. No, I am not the perkiest flower in the garden. I'm not always smiling, and I do occasionally cry. I cry when I'm sad. I cry when I'm upset. I cry when I'm frustrated, irritated, hurt or angered. But I only cry when there's a reason to. That's not being a pessimist. That's being a realist.
I told the person that I wasn't negative, I was realistic, and they said, "Yeah. That's negative. Life is negative." And no, that's not true. Not at all. That's a negative person's opinion on it. Not an optimist, or a realist, like me. I didn't get a chance to tell this person why life isn't negative (we had to change a child), but here's the reason: Life really is what you make it. If you make life happy, it will be.
People can say, "But that doesn't make sense! You can't make yourself happy!" But yes, you can. As I stated in my earlier post, "Being Happy", it's very possible. It just takes some deep thought, and realization, that whatever problem you have, either a) can't be resolved, or b) can be resolved. If it can't be, then there's no need to worry about it. Worrying won't make things happier. And worrying won't resolve it. If it can be resolved... then resolve it. It's really very simple, actually.
"But it's not! It's a lot more difficult then that!"
No. It's not.
It might take some time and deep thought, but you can realize this. It took me a while (13 years) to understand this. But it's true. Life isn't a negative place. It's only negative when you bring it upon yourself.
So cry your eyes out when the problem first arises. And then, fix it. If you can't, then don't sweat it. It is what it is.
You can only make amends with the situation at hand once you make amends with yourself.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Making Things Better
There's not any kind of intro I can begin with to go into this post. The only thing I really can do is to start. There's nothing really emotionally deep I want to share. There's only a lesson I want to teach, and hope others learn. And in order to do that, I have to tell a story. It'a a story that lasts for about three years. I'll condense it, don't worry. So here's where the story begins: third grade.
At the beginning of third grade, I was beyond panicked. In my class, I knew not one person. Literally not one person. It's not an easy thing, to make friends, be separated from them, and have new people forced upon you, especially when you're nine years old. So within my class, I temporarily "befriended" a girl for a total of three days. After that, I had become friends with some other people in the class. They're not really important to the story. The important person is the girl that I had met in a special class, called "Advanced Connections", where you were given extra projects to complete if the work in class was boring you because of it's simplicity. This girl wasn't in my regular everyday class. Anyway, the first time I had met this person... I hadn't really met her. I took one look at her. A good look, yes, but I hadn't even heard her speak. And yet I judged her, just by the way she first presented herself. I decided that she was a conceited, stuck-up, know-it-all. She hadn't been at our school before then, she was new this year. I decided that I would never be her friend. I honestly remember sitting in that portable classroom, at a wooden circular table with three other people, looking to my diagonal left, and looking at a girl in a purple shirt, thinking exactly that. That I would never like her.
About a month or so later, we had a new student to our regular class. It was the girl from AC. I hadn't really associated with this girl much, so my hard feelings had somewhat dissolved, but I still remembered what I thought as I first sat in that chair.
Around that time, everyone in our classroom was obsessed with a book, "The Lovely Bones". Everyone had read it, and I hadn't, because it personally scared me. I was only nine! Anyway, if you haven't read it, it's about a girl in Heaven, looking down and watching the things that the people on Earth were doing. How she died was revealed at the very beginning of the book. A man named Mr. Harvey had murdered her after raping her (the reason I didn't want to read it in 3rd grade). So anyway, since most people has read it, and even those who hadn't knew the basic storyline (or at least just the beginning), for some reason, the majority of my class decided they would make a game out of it. It was basically tag, except instead of someone being "it", they were Mr. Harvey. I found it incredibly stupid, (and I was never one to enjoy tag), so I only played maybe once or twice. Anyway, that day at recess, when everyone was playing the game, I noticed the new girl standing to the side and watching with slight confusion. I walked up to her, threw everything I had first thought out the window, and started a conversation. We swung on the swings and talked. I told her how I thought she was a know-it-all and how I was wrong. She told me she thought I was bossy, and how she was wrong. From then on, she was my best friend. We talked on the phone for at least two hours every night and did everything together. She wasn't the most popular or well-liked person. She was bullied, and I was made fun of for being her friend. She was criticized, as was I, but through the entire thing, I stood by her side. She was honestly my only friend. And I didn't really have a problem with it. Or at least, I didn't think I did. Until about a year or two later, when I realized what had been happening all along.
Ever since we had first started to be friends, she was always superior to me in knowledge. She was always the smartest, most well-liked by teachers, best writer and reader, had a broader vocabulary than I, and was MUCH more up-to-date in current events: she watched the news daily (they didn't have cable). And this was in 3rd grade. So basically, I was always inferior to her, and hidden behind her shadow. And not only did I know it, she did also. So anytime I would try to correct her on her grammar, or math problem, she wouldn't allow it. Even if I was right, I wasn't allowed to make a correction. Especially on writing. If I told her a better way to write something, she blew up in my face and told me how wrong I was. Everything stayed the same, everything was her way. The same thing happened when it came to her doing something I didn't like. When she would say she's so smart, or so funny, I would tell her to stop. I would tell her she was being self-centered and it was annoying me. She never said one thing good to, or about me. It was all about her. So I'd tell her that, and again, she would deny everything. There was never one apology from her. There was never a time when she admitted she was wrong. But of course, I would do something wrong, she'd call me out on it, and I'd be apologizing. It was never a two way street. I would give and she would take. I would simply "forgive" her, just for the sake of talking to each other again. But nothing was ever resolved, nothing finished. We would forget it and move on. We did that for 2 years, throughout 3rd and 4th grade, and even part of 5th. That's where everything really went wrong.
In 5th grade, she was again in my class. We were "friends" for about half of the year, until I decided that I had enough. Everything had built up, everything that she did and I never really forgave her for, every time she put me down, every time that she was basically a bad friend and she never apologized for, had come together and took over me. Suddenly, I stopped. I stopped talking to her, I stopped sitting with her, doing things on the weekends, being with her. I stopped putting up with her. I stopped being her friend. And without warning to her. I didn't tell her what she did, or why I was done. It was just a decision, an agreement, an understanding that I made to myself to stop. I was never mean to her. I never bullied her, or had people turn against her. I wasn't the nicest to her. At the sight of her, I would roll my eyes and turn away. She got none of my regards. I never said hello or goodbye. I pretended like she wasn't there. She was confused for a little while, but eventually caught on and stopped trying. All of those scars and problems had built upon each other to where I couldn't see the light of it anymore. I had just stopped.
Eventually, about a month or two later, I received a letter in the mail from her, saying exactly this:
"Dear Emily,
I'm sorry for whatever I did. Can we be friends again?"
And her name signed at the bottom. I was startled at the letter's appearance. She had pretended to brush all of this off so easily. I thought about the letter, and even considered making amends. But I was then reminded of everything she had done, and convinced myself not to. A new reason had also developed. Instead of asking what she had done wrong, she had simply said, "sorry for whatever I did". She didn't care what she did, as long as she was forgiven. That irritated me, because of what "sorry" really means. It means that you understand what you did, that it was wrong, and you will try your absolute hardest not to do it again. She wasn't sorry for what she did. She couldn't care less what she did. As far as she was concerned, as long as we were friends again, she could continue doing it, just because she apologized. She wasn't sorry I was hurt, or angered. She was sorry I no longer wanted to be friends. She was sorry I didn't want to talk to her. After realizing this, I blew off the letter, and pretended like it hadn't happened. There was no way I was forgiving her.
Two years later, and I'm still not friends with her. I no longer have any hard feelings towards her; those evaporated into thin air. I'm not mad anymore, or irritated. Time heals all wounds, yes, but not in the way that you may hope, or think. Instead of completely ignoring her, or being even the slightest bit mean to her, we're cordial. I don't have her phone number, we wouldn't choose to be partners with each other in class, we never talk, unless we have to. But when we have to, it seems fake. It's all smiles and small talk. There are no laughs, no conversations. I'm glad we're not mad at each other anymore, but it's kind of awkward. Ever since then, it's like the whole thing was brushed under the rug, but instead of being fully swept underneath, to the point of no reveal, it's still lumpy. You can tell it's there. Although we may pretend like it never happened, it did. If someone asked me who my best friend in 3rd grade was, I would probably say it was someone else, although that's not the truth at all. Back then, she was the closest thing to a twin I had. It's kind of sad now that we would probably lie about it if we were given the occasion. You can know someone better than their family does, and suddenly be total strangers, with a strange understanding between each other. It's weird, because every time we talk, it's like we know something happened. We both want to say something about it, but we don't. We want to pretend like it's over, but it's not. The memory of what happened will forever be engraved in our minds, and conversations.
And every time I think about it, I can't help but wonder what would've happened if things were different. Maybe if she had listened to me hen I told her what was wrong, and tried to fix it, I wouldn't have gotten so mad. Or when I got so mad, if I would've told her I was done, and why, we wouldn't have stopped talking. If we hadn't stopped talking, maybe we'd still be friends—even best friends. If we were still friends, maybe that memory wouldn't be in the way of everything we do involving each other. Maybe a lot of things would've happened. The reason everything did happen is because she wouldn't accept what she did wrong. And then I wouldn't tell her. Maybe if we took initiative and tried to fix it, we could have. Actually, I know that we could have. I didn't though. And neither did she. If you want to resolve things, you can.
Someone once told me, "Every friendship has it's scars. You can't pretend like they didn't happen, because they did." And I personally don't believe that. Real and truthful friendships don't have scars. Because once a scar is set in stone, more pile on. And eventually, you can't see what's underneath. Scars only happen when things aren't resolved, and you're truthfully not forgiven. People can say they forgive you, just for the sake of talking to each other again, but until they really believe that you're sorry (and until you really are sorry), forgiveness isn't forgiveness. And if it's never resolved, then you have a scar. And that makes it easier to create more and more, until that's all there is. And even the person that you once knew the most... you don't.
If you care about your friendship, and don't want this to happen to you, actually resolve things. If this person means as much to you as you say, prove it to them by not causing problems. And if you do by chance make a mistake, really apologize. Understand what you did, and why you shouldn't do it. That's when you're sorry. And if someone wronged you, tell them. They don't know what they did until you tell them it bothers you. If they're really a good friend, they'll be sorry and try their absolute best to fix it. Then, once they're sorry, forgive them. Really and truthfully do. Don't let it become a scar. Don't let it become what it did for me and her. Don't let things become awkward. Don't let something stupid cost you your entire friendship. Only you can make the decision to fix things.
So fix them.
At the beginning of third grade, I was beyond panicked. In my class, I knew not one person. Literally not one person. It's not an easy thing, to make friends, be separated from them, and have new people forced upon you, especially when you're nine years old. So within my class, I temporarily "befriended" a girl for a total of three days. After that, I had become friends with some other people in the class. They're not really important to the story. The important person is the girl that I had met in a special class, called "Advanced Connections", where you were given extra projects to complete if the work in class was boring you because of it's simplicity. This girl wasn't in my regular everyday class. Anyway, the first time I had met this person... I hadn't really met her. I took one look at her. A good look, yes, but I hadn't even heard her speak. And yet I judged her, just by the way she first presented herself. I decided that she was a conceited, stuck-up, know-it-all. She hadn't been at our school before then, she was new this year. I decided that I would never be her friend. I honestly remember sitting in that portable classroom, at a wooden circular table with three other people, looking to my diagonal left, and looking at a girl in a purple shirt, thinking exactly that. That I would never like her.
About a month or so later, we had a new student to our regular class. It was the girl from AC. I hadn't really associated with this girl much, so my hard feelings had somewhat dissolved, but I still remembered what I thought as I first sat in that chair.
Around that time, everyone in our classroom was obsessed with a book, "The Lovely Bones". Everyone had read it, and I hadn't, because it personally scared me. I was only nine! Anyway, if you haven't read it, it's about a girl in Heaven, looking down and watching the things that the people on Earth were doing. How she died was revealed at the very beginning of the book. A man named Mr. Harvey had murdered her after raping her (the reason I didn't want to read it in 3rd grade). So anyway, since most people has read it, and even those who hadn't knew the basic storyline (or at least just the beginning), for some reason, the majority of my class decided they would make a game out of it. It was basically tag, except instead of someone being "it", they were Mr. Harvey. I found it incredibly stupid, (and I was never one to enjoy tag), so I only played maybe once or twice. Anyway, that day at recess, when everyone was playing the game, I noticed the new girl standing to the side and watching with slight confusion. I walked up to her, threw everything I had first thought out the window, and started a conversation. We swung on the swings and talked. I told her how I thought she was a know-it-all and how I was wrong. She told me she thought I was bossy, and how she was wrong. From then on, she was my best friend. We talked on the phone for at least two hours every night and did everything together. She wasn't the most popular or well-liked person. She was bullied, and I was made fun of for being her friend. She was criticized, as was I, but through the entire thing, I stood by her side. She was honestly my only friend. And I didn't really have a problem with it. Or at least, I didn't think I did. Until about a year or two later, when I realized what had been happening all along.
Ever since we had first started to be friends, she was always superior to me in knowledge. She was always the smartest, most well-liked by teachers, best writer and reader, had a broader vocabulary than I, and was MUCH more up-to-date in current events: she watched the news daily (they didn't have cable). And this was in 3rd grade. So basically, I was always inferior to her, and hidden behind her shadow. And not only did I know it, she did also. So anytime I would try to correct her on her grammar, or math problem, she wouldn't allow it. Even if I was right, I wasn't allowed to make a correction. Especially on writing. If I told her a better way to write something, she blew up in my face and told me how wrong I was. Everything stayed the same, everything was her way. The same thing happened when it came to her doing something I didn't like. When she would say she's so smart, or so funny, I would tell her to stop. I would tell her she was being self-centered and it was annoying me. She never said one thing good to, or about me. It was all about her. So I'd tell her that, and again, she would deny everything. There was never one apology from her. There was never a time when she admitted she was wrong. But of course, I would do something wrong, she'd call me out on it, and I'd be apologizing. It was never a two way street. I would give and she would take. I would simply "forgive" her, just for the sake of talking to each other again. But nothing was ever resolved, nothing finished. We would forget it and move on. We did that for 2 years, throughout 3rd and 4th grade, and even part of 5th. That's where everything really went wrong.
In 5th grade, she was again in my class. We were "friends" for about half of the year, until I decided that I had enough. Everything had built up, everything that she did and I never really forgave her for, every time she put me down, every time that she was basically a bad friend and she never apologized for, had come together and took over me. Suddenly, I stopped. I stopped talking to her, I stopped sitting with her, doing things on the weekends, being with her. I stopped putting up with her. I stopped being her friend. And without warning to her. I didn't tell her what she did, or why I was done. It was just a decision, an agreement, an understanding that I made to myself to stop. I was never mean to her. I never bullied her, or had people turn against her. I wasn't the nicest to her. At the sight of her, I would roll my eyes and turn away. She got none of my regards. I never said hello or goodbye. I pretended like she wasn't there. She was confused for a little while, but eventually caught on and stopped trying. All of those scars and problems had built upon each other to where I couldn't see the light of it anymore. I had just stopped.
Eventually, about a month or two later, I received a letter in the mail from her, saying exactly this:
"Dear Emily,
I'm sorry for whatever I did. Can we be friends again?"
And her name signed at the bottom. I was startled at the letter's appearance. She had pretended to brush all of this off so easily. I thought about the letter, and even considered making amends. But I was then reminded of everything she had done, and convinced myself not to. A new reason had also developed. Instead of asking what she had done wrong, she had simply said, "sorry for whatever I did". She didn't care what she did, as long as she was forgiven. That irritated me, because of what "sorry" really means. It means that you understand what you did, that it was wrong, and you will try your absolute hardest not to do it again. She wasn't sorry for what she did. She couldn't care less what she did. As far as she was concerned, as long as we were friends again, she could continue doing it, just because she apologized. She wasn't sorry I was hurt, or angered. She was sorry I no longer wanted to be friends. She was sorry I didn't want to talk to her. After realizing this, I blew off the letter, and pretended like it hadn't happened. There was no way I was forgiving her.
Two years later, and I'm still not friends with her. I no longer have any hard feelings towards her; those evaporated into thin air. I'm not mad anymore, or irritated. Time heals all wounds, yes, but not in the way that you may hope, or think. Instead of completely ignoring her, or being even the slightest bit mean to her, we're cordial. I don't have her phone number, we wouldn't choose to be partners with each other in class, we never talk, unless we have to. But when we have to, it seems fake. It's all smiles and small talk. There are no laughs, no conversations. I'm glad we're not mad at each other anymore, but it's kind of awkward. Ever since then, it's like the whole thing was brushed under the rug, but instead of being fully swept underneath, to the point of no reveal, it's still lumpy. You can tell it's there. Although we may pretend like it never happened, it did. If someone asked me who my best friend in 3rd grade was, I would probably say it was someone else, although that's not the truth at all. Back then, she was the closest thing to a twin I had. It's kind of sad now that we would probably lie about it if we were given the occasion. You can know someone better than their family does, and suddenly be total strangers, with a strange understanding between each other. It's weird, because every time we talk, it's like we know something happened. We both want to say something about it, but we don't. We want to pretend like it's over, but it's not. The memory of what happened will forever be engraved in our minds, and conversations.
And every time I think about it, I can't help but wonder what would've happened if things were different. Maybe if she had listened to me hen I told her what was wrong, and tried to fix it, I wouldn't have gotten so mad. Or when I got so mad, if I would've told her I was done, and why, we wouldn't have stopped talking. If we hadn't stopped talking, maybe we'd still be friends—even best friends. If we were still friends, maybe that memory wouldn't be in the way of everything we do involving each other. Maybe a lot of things would've happened. The reason everything did happen is because she wouldn't accept what she did wrong. And then I wouldn't tell her. Maybe if we took initiative and tried to fix it, we could have. Actually, I know that we could have. I didn't though. And neither did she. If you want to resolve things, you can.
Someone once told me, "Every friendship has it's scars. You can't pretend like they didn't happen, because they did." And I personally don't believe that. Real and truthful friendships don't have scars. Because once a scar is set in stone, more pile on. And eventually, you can't see what's underneath. Scars only happen when things aren't resolved, and you're truthfully not forgiven. People can say they forgive you, just for the sake of talking to each other again, but until they really believe that you're sorry (and until you really are sorry), forgiveness isn't forgiveness. And if it's never resolved, then you have a scar. And that makes it easier to create more and more, until that's all there is. And even the person that you once knew the most... you don't.
If you care about your friendship, and don't want this to happen to you, actually resolve things. If this person means as much to you as you say, prove it to them by not causing problems. And if you do by chance make a mistake, really apologize. Understand what you did, and why you shouldn't do it. That's when you're sorry. And if someone wronged you, tell them. They don't know what they did until you tell them it bothers you. If they're really a good friend, they'll be sorry and try their absolute best to fix it. Then, once they're sorry, forgive them. Really and truthfully do. Don't let it become a scar. Don't let it become what it did for me and her. Don't let things become awkward. Don't let something stupid cost you your entire friendship. Only you can make the decision to fix things.
So fix them.
Friday, June 1, 2012
Hey Stalker: Thank You
This is the third time writing this post. Seriously. I wrote it, published it, deleted it, wrote it again, published it, deleted it, and once again I am back to writing. I never delete my posts. What I write stays where it is. This is the first time I have actually bothered to rewrite it over and over. Why? Because it didn't feel right. As I was writing it, then after I published it, then after I reread it because I wasn't comfortable with it, it didn't feel right. I was trying to say something while teaching a lesson, and it just wasn't working. There wasn't a lesson I needed to teach, there was only something I needed to say. So this is your warning: if you want to learn something, I suggest you stop reading, unless you're bored or interested. If you are bored, go ahead, read all you want. But this post is for my stalker. The person who reads everything I write, hears everything I say, and knows everything I think. For the person I met by chance, but stayed friends with by choice.
I've already blogged about telling people how much you care about them, in my earlier post, "If I Die Tomorrow". But I never got into some of the detail I would have liked to with specific people. So here's where that comes. This isn't just an apology, or a way to make them forgive me. This is a true and honest statement. Because I don't lie. Especially not to this person.
I really don't.
Back when we met, over a year ago... Well, you know the story. Basically, I didn't ever think that you could become who you are. I didn't ever think that the person who was paired up with me by chance would become the person I run to when I need it, the person who makes me laugh when I need it, or the person who will forever be standing by my side. I didn't think that that girl at camp would ever know all of my thoughts, detect my bad moods, or read me like a 1st grader's picture book: easy. I never thought a lot of things, but I basically never thought that you would be my best friend. As things progressed, I never thought we would talk every day, stalk each other's tweets, or basically be where we are. I never thought that I'd be seriously thanking you for everything you've done. But here we are. So thank you for encouraging me when I'm down. Thank you for supporting me when I need it. Thank you for making me smile and laugh. Thank you for making me feel smart, or like I'm a good person. Thank you for talking to me every day, regardless of what I look like. Thank you for being both forgiving and apologetic. Thank you for being nice, considerate, and everything I look for in a friend. Thank you for not being anything I hate in a person. Thank you for teaching me things. Thank you for reading this. Thank you for wanting to read this. Thank you for being yourself. Thank you for letting me be myself. Thank you for being so many things I can thank you about. Thank you for wanting to be my friend. Thank you for making an effort to be my friend after we first met. Thank you for never abandoning me or leaving me alone. Thank you for always being on my side. Thank you for understanding me, more than anyone else I know. Thank you for a lot of things. But mainly, thank you for being just about the best friend I've ever had.
Hey Stalker: Thank You.
I've already blogged about telling people how much you care about them, in my earlier post, "If I Die Tomorrow". But I never got into some of the detail I would have liked to with specific people. So here's where that comes. This isn't just an apology, or a way to make them forgive me. This is a true and honest statement. Because I don't lie. Especially not to this person.
I really don't.
Back when we met, over a year ago... Well, you know the story. Basically, I didn't ever think that you could become who you are. I didn't ever think that the person who was paired up with me by chance would become the person I run to when I need it, the person who makes me laugh when I need it, or the person who will forever be standing by my side. I didn't think that that girl at camp would ever know all of my thoughts, detect my bad moods, or read me like a 1st grader's picture book: easy. I never thought a lot of things, but I basically never thought that you would be my best friend. As things progressed, I never thought we would talk every day, stalk each other's tweets, or basically be where we are. I never thought that I'd be seriously thanking you for everything you've done. But here we are. So thank you for encouraging me when I'm down. Thank you for supporting me when I need it. Thank you for making me smile and laugh. Thank you for making me feel smart, or like I'm a good person. Thank you for talking to me every day, regardless of what I look like. Thank you for being both forgiving and apologetic. Thank you for being nice, considerate, and everything I look for in a friend. Thank you for not being anything I hate in a person. Thank you for teaching me things. Thank you for reading this. Thank you for wanting to read this. Thank you for being yourself. Thank you for letting me be myself. Thank you for being so many things I can thank you about. Thank you for wanting to be my friend. Thank you for making an effort to be my friend after we first met. Thank you for never abandoning me or leaving me alone. Thank you for always being on my side. Thank you for understanding me, more than anyone else I know. Thank you for a lot of things. But mainly, thank you for being just about the best friend I've ever had.
Hey Stalker: Thank You.
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