Archive for the ‘college memories’ Tag

and breathe, just breathe.   4 comments

…the fortune teller who read my tarot cards on New Year’s Eve also told me, “… you don’t sleep well.”  Oddly enough, on that night I found myself thinking, No, I sleep fine.  Last night, as I tossed and turned with anxiety and a multitude of thoughts, I realized that she was right.  I don’t sleep well.  At that time I may have been sleeping fairly well- due to both exhaustion and a bout of happiness- around New Year’s Eve, but generally speaking I’ve never been a solid sleeper.  And all photos with bags & dark circles under my eyes are proof. 

It really shouldn’t take a tarot card reading to inform me that I don’t sleep too well.  After all, I think I know whether or not I sleep at night.  But then again, I guess I never realized it?  I guess I always thought that it was normal to take 30-60 minutes to fall asleep at night; and that it was normal to wake up at least 2-3 during the night.  It’s not, is it?  Another round of Oi Vey, please?

I’m learning to embrace nights like these and see them as part of life’s little lessons.  My friend, as well as fellow adventurer and student of life, Kate, just wrote, “You can’t teach these things, you can only learn from them.”  So what did I learn from last night?  I’m not exactly sure yet, but I did wake up with this notion:

Let yourself be sad.  Let yourself cry if you need to.  Ask God, “What do you want from me?”  Ask yourself, “Why am I letting this bother me so much?”  Put on that comfy sweatshirt that makes you feel better.  Throw your hair in pigtail braids.  Watch sappy movies.  Listen to ‘sad white people music’.  Write it all out if that works best for you.  Spend the day with your emotions.  Allow yourself to get to know you better.  Find out what makes you happy when you’re feeling blue.  Be your own best friend for the day.  And don’t forget to keep breathing and telling yourself, “It’s all going to be okay.  You’ll feel better tomorrow.”  And you will.  I will.

My senior year at OU consisted of several sleepless nights;and if I did sleep, it was more of a passing out after a night filled of drinking situation.  During those restlessness nights of anxiety, I found comfort by being my own best friend.  No one else understood what I was going through.  No one else knew about neither the anxiety that kept me awake at night nor the panic attacks that woke me up every so often.  No one else seemed to understand, not even my own mother, and so I stopped talking about my problems altogether.  Instead I tossed and turned every night attempting to fall asleep as I hit repeat on my playlist to find comfort in Anna Nalick’s 2 am and she instructed me,  “And breathe. Just breathe.” 

This week has reminded me of those nights for more reasons than I’d like to admit.  Nights that occurred five years ago have seemed as though they were only yesterday; and the pain, somehow I can feel it again.  But this isn’t five years ago.  I’ve come such a long way since then.  I’ve grown so much since those days.  I just need to shake this off once and for all.  So here it goes….

Breathe.

Just Breathe.

 

** Kate is a Season 4 Blogger for Stratejoy.  Read her first post, Life is Messy

silence of the heart.   Leave a comment

We search for happiness everywhere, but we are like Tolstoy’s fabled beggar who spent his life sitting on a pot of gold, under him the whole time. Your treasure–your perfection–is within you already. But to claim it, you must leave the commotion of the mind and abandon the desires of the ego and enter into the silence of the heart.

~ Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat Pray Love

The walk home from the hospital on Tuesday nights always reminds me of Athens, OH: My College Town.  The side streets, loud bars, and one particular 4-way intersection, which I always hope to be abandoned so I can create my own diagonal crosswalk, all bring along a welcomed sense of nostalgia.  It’s the little things in life, kids.  Believe it or not, I used to be one of those college kids in the loud bars (on my beloved Court Street) on Tuesday nights enjoying 25-cent wings, 2-dollar mixed drinks in plastic cups, and a priceless buffet of OU-loving friends.  But that was a long time ago…well, five years ago.

I look forward to that walk so much, even going as far as to turn down rides home in order to have those 20 minutes to myself.  No cell phone. No email. No to-do list. No stress.  Just me, my city, and my nostalgic mind on a romantic walk home after a soulful night of baby therapy.  What more can a girl ask for?

Surrounded by a city of millions and thousands more tourists, silence is a rarity in Chicago.  However, I’m learning that it’s not impossible.  Although silence in terms of noise- or lack thereof- is what many first think of, it is silence of the heart that this girl and many others find themselves looking for something- whether or not we actually know what that something is.

A mere stranger once said to me, “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”  At twenty-years old, I didn’t know how to take those words.  What did he see in me?  What did he think I was looking for?  How did he know before I even made this realization? 

During these last seven years, I never stopped to hear the silence.  Too caught up in finding something else, I overlooked what I already had.  Believing that I had to be better, grow up quicker, and become somebody else, I lost sight of myself…except when I walked the streets of Athens.  Usually with Brandon or other friends at times, the streets provided me serenity as I was able to leave the commotion of my restless mind and abandon the desires of my dreamer ways.  I miss those walks.  I miss those run-down streets.  I miss Brandon and his perfect companionship.  I miss Athens a lot.  I miss it even more on Tuesday nights when my nostalgic mind kicks in as I turn onto Fullerton.

I cannot tell you the last time I spent a Tuesday night in a bar, and in a few weeks I’ll be back in Athens for the first time since June.  And while I miss those days dearly, I’m okay with it now.  Because for 20 minutes each week, after I finish my volunteer shift, I can count on my heart to fall silent and clarity to fill my mind.  I can take a deep breath and know that everything is fine.

it’s not about change, it’s about growth. it’s all about growing up and finding out who you really are.   Leave a comment

Ironically enough, Blair Waldorf (Gossip Girl) inspired me to write this post, as well as to connect with myself over this concept.  So thank you, Ms. Waldorf and/or Gossip Girl writers for these wise words giving some always-appreciated inspiration to keep living my life and striving to be the best version of myself.

At the end of The Witches of Brunswick episode, Blair says reassuringly  to Chuck, “I have to be Blair Waldorf before I can be Chuck Bass’ girlfriend.”

I’ve shared before that when I was younger, I used to wish on anything wishable (candles, 11:11, shooting stars) for a boyfriend.  If all those wishes had come true, then I probably would have dated half of Hampton’s male alumni and a portion of the hottest and most famous male celebrities between the years 1995-2003. 

In the summer of 2003, those wishes seized as I came to my senses- sorta.  Instead of wishing for a boyfriend, I made the mistake of wishing for something else: I wished to change myself.  If I only knew then what I knew now…things may have been so different but life is what it is and there’s no way to change the past so all you can do is grow from it.  At twenty years old, I began abandoning who I was under the false belief that it was what I needed to do.  My naivety had me convinced:  New School = New Me.  Let me go back and say that having lived in the same community (let alone same house) since I was four years old, I had only been Kristen Medica who lived in Hampton on Cheyenne Ct.    I knew a lot of people and a lot of people knew me.  I was known as being a ‘nice girl’ and ‘friends with everyone’.  But with Hampton appearing as a backdrop in my rearview mirror as we drove to Athens, I decided to leave it all behind me.  And by ‘all’ I mean ALL.  Everything.  With a big college campus in Ohio as my new home, I decided that I could leave Kristen Medica from Hampton behind because no one would neither know what nor where  “Hampton” was.   (Or so I thought.) 

Boy, was I such a silly little girl back then.  But you know what, I had to learn from my mistakes- and learn I have.  Since that time in my life, my world has been flip-flopped and twisted around.  My eyes have been opened and my perspective widened further than I ever knew possible.  And this my friends, is what growing up is all about.  It’s scary and sometimes very scary, but there’s no avoiding it.  But once you accept that growing up is about growth and not change, then you are on the right road to finding out who you are and what you’re capable of.  I think it’s appropriate to say, the world is your oysterwhatever that really means.

But back to Ms Waldorf and her eye-opening quote that I adore: “I have to be Blair Waldorf before I can be Chuck Bass’ girlfriend.”  Yes, I’m single.  Everyone I know knows I’m single, and the entire world of Facebook knows too.  But I promise you that I’m neither a bitter single girl nor a cynic when it comes to love.  Even if I find myself writing about love, fate, and all that jazz on a sleepless PMS day, I promise you that I’m not at all cynical.  I say this because it’s pertinent to know before I indulge into my next thoughts.

Let me refer to a past post of mine titled, don’t you think 19 is too young to play by your dark, twisted games?, where I addressed the importance of connecting with yourself and not relying on someone else (a boy) to help you do so.  It’s the line that I hear my mom’s voice saying, “You cannot expect someone else to love you until you love yourself.”  Or maybe it resonates with you if I say it this way: You cannot expect another to give you the love you need to give yourself.  Don’t get me wrong, men are wonderful!  They have a way of making us feel pretty when we don’t feel pretty; making us happy when we’re sad; and giving us confidence after we lost it through our last broken heart.  But while they’re wonderful, charming, cute, and good kissers, they are not the only ones that can give you love.  You can and must give yourself that love first and foremost.  In order to be the best version of you possible, you need to figure out who you are- outside of a relationship- before you can be in one.  You need to know who you are as “me” before finding out who you are as a “we”.

I know this is a concept harder for some to grasp more than others, but it’s definitely a point that I need to make to anyone who will listen.  Now I am trying to keep my inner-Carrie Bradshaw from lecturing here, but this is one of those areas that my single girl status knows a thing or two about.  From my perspective, as someone more than just a single girl but someone who has found the growing pains for many years, I’ll tell you this little secret: You have to find yourself in order to give yourself.  I know we all want to be loved, heck I want to be loved too.  But there is so much more to love than just finding someone to love you.  I think that’s the misconception that our generation has about love.  We mistakenly believe that love is the answer to all our problems.  We have false hope that once we find love, we’ve found it all.  True and false.  That’s why it’s so important to figure out who you are first because then once you find love, well you really can have your cake and eat it too- again, whatever that means.  What I mean is, once you love yourself you can have it all.  We all want love.  We want it so bad that it makes us miserable and selfish if we don’t have it.  We crave it like a drug.  But why don’t we crave personal growth- which brings us so much love- like that? Why don’t we crave to grow up and find out who we really are?

At that naive young age of twenty that I spoke of earlier, I got trapped in the misconception that growing up meant changing.  And then I met a boy and I thought that I needed to change who I was in order for him to like me more.  Looking back, I think he saw through my own confused self and liked me just the way I was.  Yep, I’m a silly, silly girl.  But really, what made me think back then growing up meant changing who I was?

When I moved here two years ago (almost to the day), I knew things were going to change.  I was in a huge new city, with a new job, and only knew a few people here.  I knew things were going to change, but I never once thought that I had to change.  Parts of me have changed, but I also think that you can best contribute it to growing up and finding out who I am and what I’m capable of. 

You know that upon moving here, with the anxiety of the unknown and loneliness of the transition, I really wanted a boyfriend.  I wanted someone to be there for me as I began a new chapter of my life.  I wanted someone to provide some stability in my new world of changes.  But I was alone.  All alone.  And looking back on that time, two years later, I am glad that I was alone. 

Like Blair implied, you have to figure out who you are as “you” before you can figure out what else you’re capable of being.  I needed to figure out who I am- out of my comfort zone and away from friends and family- and I can definitely say that it’s exactly what’s happened….and will continue to happen.  And one day, I’ll bring the ‘me’ into a ‘we’…but not until I have a self-assured ‘me’ to make that the best ‘we’ possible. 

Poor boy has no idea what’s about to hit him!

i know it’s not your fault, but i’m a locked door. anytime i’m a mess by someone before. and i wish that i, i could find the key, to unlock all the things you want us to be. let me open up and start again, but there’s a safe around my heart. i don’t know how to let you in.   2 comments

Heartbreak is a fact of life.  It happens to the best of us, and in fact, I think it’s what forms our best possible self.  Did I just lose you?  What I’m saying is that- in some ironic fashion- all of the crappy, soul-crippling, unexplainable things that happen to us not only develop our character, but they introduce us to a better version of ourselves.  Isn’t that what life is all about?  Being tested with obstacles to overcome and prove (to yourself) just how strong you are.

I remember being a naive twenty-year old (at OU) and telling my friend, Amanda, “I think I need to have my heart broken.”  She tried reassurring me that my concept was foolish but I stuck with my belief, convinced that it was an experience that I needed in my life. 

I must have jinxed myself because it was only a few weeks later that the first crack in my poor little heart formed, and the beginning of the shattering that has occurred since.  But like I said, I knew it was something that I needed to go through, and boy did I!  It’s something that I’ll never forget and, quite possibly, never fully let go of.  First love & first heartbreak: Two of life’s haunting lessons.

But heartbreak is not synonymous with “The End” and therefore, we all rise again.  It takes longer for some than others, but all of us are capable of overcoming heartbreak.  And for some of us, rising again may be one of the biggest struggles of our lives.  I say “our lives” because I think I’m one of those “us”.

Since my first (real) heartbreak a few years ago has left me scarred, my love life hasn’t been more than a few crushes, a friends-with-benefits-gone-wrong, 3-4 one-nighters, and a whole lot of nothing- especially since moving here two years ago.  As my heart continued to shatter over time, I found myself chaining it up more and more.  One day, I decided that it was best to throw away the key…hoping that one day, someone (maybe a particular someone at one time) would find it and unlock the chains to my heart.  Without sounding too desperate, that hope hasn’t gotten me too far. 

My Facebook status reads “Single” but if there was a “Single and Available” option then I don’t think I’d find myself choosing it.  Though my ringless finger may scream“Available!” my heart has not.  Why?  Well,  little heartbroken me has been afraid of getting hurt again, and I’ve been afraid of making someone else deal with my broken self. 

Truth be told, I’m tired of being afraid; tired of holding myself back; and tired of not letting a guy get to be “In a Relationship” with me.  I don’t want to hide behind a broken heart anymore.  I don’t want to tell people “Yes, I’m single.” over and over again.  I want to break away from the chains and open my heart again.  I want to be fearless, and therefore, not afraid of getting hurt again.  I’ve come a long way and I want to go even further.

Channeling my inner Carrie Bradshaw, I think that this is my best conclusion: When you’re ready, and I mean really ready, you’ll discover that the chains around your heart were never locked.  And that key that you threw away with hopes to be found by Prince Charming, well you had the key all along.  I’ve had the key all along.  I’m the only one who’s ever had the key.  And, more so, I think I’m almost ready.

 

 Song of the Moment: Need You by Travie McCoy

nice to meet you anyway   Leave a comment

Since high school, maybe even middle school, I have followed one simple law: If a guy has a girlfriend, STAY AWAY.  Be friends but absolutely nothing more.  Actually I took it even further and adopted the mindset that if a girl friend or even acquaintance-friend of mine- which was pretty much half of the girls in Hampton- had a crush on a guy, I made my own pact to STAY AWAY.  These practices seem so simple and down-right practical, but then again I just heard on the radio how (allegedly) 60% of men cheat.  SERIOUSLY?!!!  Anyways, I’m not sure how it exactly developed but my teenage mind fully believed that if you want to be(long) with me, then don’t be(long) to her.

Where am I really going with this?  As always, I have some things on my mind and hearing the alleged statistic that 60% of men cheat, well other ideas are surfacing.  No longer a teenager, I am finding myself in a world of men with girlfriends of all sorts- long distance girlfriends and live-in-girlfriends, for example- as well as fiancées and wives!  Seriously, am I really old enough for this?  Remembering all of the weddings, bridal showers, and bachelorette parties I attended this past year, I think that’s a ‘YES’.  And while my mind has wondered a bit with the well what if’s a time or two, I still standby this and always will.  If he has another girl in his life, he isn’t the one for me.  If you really think you’re the one for me then it’s got to be only me.  No one else. 

I broke this rule twice in college and hated myself for it.  The first time, I took a guy home that had a girlfriend- not knowing that he had a girlfriend until we got back to my dorm room.  Somehow I found out, and since I wasn’t really into him, it didn’t break my heart or anything.  Instead I hated myself for betraying my rule and his girlfriend.  I hated him for doing this to his girlfriend, still I didn’t kick him out, per say.  I ended the make-out session and strictly told him, “Do not break up with your girlfriend for me.”  Like I said, I wasn’t into him at all, but sometimes a (drunk) girl needs to get some.  But that ended and so did my trust in guys.  How could you go home with someone else if you have a girlfriend?  I just don’t get it at all.  I felt horrible knowing that I made out with someone’s boyfriend.  How could you ever do that to someone else purposedly?

“I’m talking to someone else.”  These were the ones that were spoken to me during the second instance that I mentioned.  My heart broke in half – literally- when I heard them.  I still hear these words.  I hear his voice saying them to me.  I wish he never said them.  But he did.  Between you and me, I don’t even think that he remembered saying them to me but I know they were spoken.  I know because of the pain that immediately took over my entire body as my heart shattered into a million pieces. 

I both love and hate my response to his words.  I love myself for being strong; for doing what I believed was the right thing to do; and for listening to the rules that my heart set.  Okay, before sounding like a saint, let me admit that I did spent the night with him…because 1) I really liked him and 2) I was really drunk.  Also, I think this line explains my other reason: We may only have tonight, but til the morning sun you’re mine, all mine. (Plain White T’s- Rhythm of Love).  To be honest, with a lot of vodka in my system, I just wanted to have one last night him (selfish?) and then I’d let him go.  (Or so I thought would be the case.)  Yep, I chose to abandon my rules and live without a conscience for the night.  Part of me hates myself for having a conscience in the first place.  However, as my luck (or lack of) would have it, the Karma Police sentenced me to, well, bad karma.  Honestly, I know that a part of my drunk self (which sobered up when I got back to my dorm- mostly) hoped that he would decide, after spending time with me, that I was the one for him therefore he would choose not to be talking to someone else anymore.  What can I say, I’m a girl so daydreams and fantasies come naturally.  But what I felt for that boy, wasn’t a fantasy.  I thought it was real.  To this day I still think it was real.  But it’s all in the past…right?  It is, but those 5 words still haunt me.  I wish that I never heard them the way I did.  Actually I wish they were never said at all… but they were.  “I’m talking to someone else” isn’t exactly a translation for “I’m happily engaged”  but in my conscience it’s all the same.  So when the morning sun came up and I stared out the window onto the beautiful, sunny winter morning, my heart surrendered and let her- whoever she was- win.

No matter how cute he may be nor how perfect I think we could be together, if he has another girl in his life, well then he just doesn’t have room for me too.  For as tough as I am on myself, I know that I don’t deserve to be ‘the other woman’.  I’m better than that.  I deserve better than that.  If 60% of guys cheat, then I know that the one that belongs with me is in that 40 percent.

Sometimes I really get tired of my morals.  I get tired of the consequences of having a big heart.  Running myself down to be everything to everyone is down-right exhausting.  But this is me.  I have morals, a huge heart, and caring for people is what makes me ‘me’.  And call me selfish, but I want a guy who will tell me that I’m the only one. 

don’t you think 19 is too young to be played by your dark, twisted games?   2 comments

I’ve sat on this thought for a long time.  Probably at least 6 years, if not more.  But I’m not sure if I have ever voiced it out loud (to myself) or to anyone else.  Instead it’s an idea that has rolled around in my mind time-and-time-again, but I never knew how best to put those thoughts & feelings into words.  Lucky for me, the ever-so-talented Hannah of As Simple As That wrote the words for me:

A role model of mine once talked with me on matters of life & love and a sudden romance that can make the two hold hands with one another. She said the most meaningful kind of love that I would one day encounter is when I am fully full, wholly whole. And I reach out my hand to another who is fully full, wholly whole. And together we will not complete one another. But there will be no denying: we will make one another better. We will be each other’s superb add-ons.

~ Hannah Katy @ www.hannahkaty.com

Thanks so much, Hannah!  Your thoughts have allowed me to find the words to convey mine.  Once again, you are an inspiration.

Every girl knows the line from Jerry Maguire “You complete me.” – that is at fault for furthering our fairy tale notion that we are not complete without another loving us.  Or as my friend, Amanda, told me at my impressionable age of nineteen (or a few days into being twenty), “One day you’ll find your puzzle piece.  Your perfect fit.  Then it will all come together and you’ll be complete.” 

I strongly dislike admitting this, but I believed Amanda’s theory.  There wasn’t a puzzle piece that I didn’t meet (figuratively speaking) that didn’t make me think of her line.  But that was then, and time & experiences have definitely introduced me to new ideas. Who began this urban legend anyways?  Who began this brain-washing belief we are not complete unless we have a ring on our left hand?  Is this another marketing scheme from Hallmark?

Feeding off Hannah’s idea, it is I (me) who makes myself “fully full, wholly whole”.  It is you who makes yourself “fully full, wholly whole”.  I cannot complete you.  You cannot complete me.  But instead, we (as two full, whole people) that can make one another better. 

Sure, I can say that now, with years of lessons learned weighing down my shoulers; however, when you’re a nineteen-year old optimistic, hopeless-romantic and fate comes and sweeps you off your feet, all ration is absent.  The butterflies tingle in your stomach and daydreams fill your head with plans for the your future: yours & his together.  Soon you’re not a “me” but a “we”.  You mistakenly believe that this is your other half; your destiny; la tua cantante; your soulmate.  But in fact, he/she is just another person, another part of the equation instead of half of the whole.  I can say this because I made the mistake, at the ripe young age of 19-20, only to learn the fateful lesson later: You are your own soulmate.  You complete yourself.  When you finally see that for yourself, you are saving yourself from a lot of doubt, confusion, and heartbreak. 

If I only knew what I know now.  When I was 19-years old, a few weeks before my first year at OU, Fate decided to play a game with me.  It released its butterflies and spun my head around a few times one summer afternoon in Athens, leaving me questioning what the heck was that?  To be honest I’m still not sure what “that” was nor everything that followed, but I think it’s best to classify it all as…hmm…a lesson to be learned, perhaps?  Whatever it was, that “lesson” has led me to where I am today.  It’s helped me see that there is no such thing as a soulmate to complete you.  Instead, there is a person out there- many people in fact- that will make you better, but it is always up to you to complete yourself. 

“You cannot expect someone to love you until you love yourself.”  Even though she said it to me years ago (around the age of 20 years old), I can still hear my mom’s voice speaking these words to me.  I’ve mentioned this before, but when she first said it to me my immediate thought was, I’ll love me when someone else loves me.  But now I know the truth: My mom was absolutely 100% right.  I didn’t see it at 19-years old nor at 20, and heck I didn’t even see it at 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, nor the beginning of 26.  But things have changed in the past year and I see it now.  At 27-years old, I finally see it more clearly than ever before.  My foolish thoughts of another completing are long-gone, and instead I strive to find myself in order to better the others I encounter, as they will likewise better me.

I truly believe that all of this and “that’ was part of my life’s journey.  The bumps & bruises and hills & mountains that are helping me become fully full and wholly whole.  I’m not there yet, but I know I’ll get there.  Knowing how far I’ve come since I was 19-years old is proof and my aspirations drive me to keep learning & growing.  Others- family, friends, mentors, love interests- are there to help guide and support me along my way, but I am the one who can complete me.  The only one.  And one day, if completeness is truly possible, I will.  And when I find him, whoever he may be, I know that I’ll be the same- but better.

Song of the Moment: Where Would We Be Now by Good Charlotte

drop everything now…meet me in the pouring rain…kiss me on the sidewalk…take the pain away.   Leave a comment

Standing on the platform in Evanston waiting for the Purple Line last night after work, a chill came over me.  All I wanted was someone to put their arm around me.  Is that asking too much?  I tell you this because after having that thought, I immediately had another thought: That’s not typical for me. 

Sure I would have loved for  that someone to be a cute, single guy that likes me best in grey sweatpants and no makeup, but honestly I would have taken the arm of one of my girlfriends, lovely gay boyfriends, or family members.  Someone’s arm around my shoulder, letting me know that everything is going to be okay.  Or perhaps, just showing me that someone is there beside me.

Friends of mine all over the country- mostly in and/or from Ohio- are struggling and I strongly dislike hate that I cannot be there beside them with my arm around their shoulders.  Wiping their tears.  Showing them that there is still beauty in this world and that our friendship is one example.  Instead I am restricted to using my words through emails, Facebook postings, text messages, phone calls, and greeting cards to comfort them in during these rough and never-ending frustrating days. 

Aren’t the Terrible Twenties glorious?

A message from Julie yesterday broke my heart and actually brought tears to my eyes.  A few weeks ago when I visited her in Akron (for less than 48 hours), I was able to hug her worries away.  But now, once again I am resulted to using my words to warm her sad, lonely, and confused heart.  My heart breaks just thinking about her now.  As depression seeps into her soul, I cannot physically shield her.  I cannot drag her on spontaneous trips to Meijer like we used to do when we both lived in Columbus a few years ago.  I cannot accompany her on a day-long hike through the middle of nowhere Ohio until she finds peace in nature.  I cannot spoil her with a sushi date nor laugh hysterically while watching the ridiculousness that is Where the Wild Things Are.  I just want to put my arm around her and tell her everything is going to be okay. 

Adriana has been struggling lately with a laundry list of issues that I wish would disappear at the snap of my fingers.  She’s only been in my life for over a year now but I honestly cannot remember life before her name.  I laughed with irony when she calls me her “little human xanax/prozac”.  Even though we both know that the other is there for us when she cannot be there, it just isn’t always enough.  Fortunately are written exchanges can compensate during our anxiety-ridden days but there’s nothing better than curling up together in our OU sweatshirt blankets with tea/coffee/hot chocolate sharing a bag of Twizzlers.  Fortunately, we get to do that soon when I venture out to Cinci next week (!), but I’m still wishing that I was there right now…forcing her to soothe her worries with my heavenly Starbucks and companionship.  I’ll be there soon, A.  Very, very soon!

I think of Alisha a lot, especially since her life is paralleling mine from (gasp) 6 years ago.  She’s nearing the end of Fall Quarter at my alma mater, Ohio University, and is beginning to have the never-ending questions surround life after graduation exhausting her weary mind.  Having worn those shoes and overcoming the struggles myself, I am honored to give her encouraging words from the lessons that I learned.  However, it’s not enough for me.  As her “Big Sis”, I want to be there to shield her from the negative thoughts, doubts, worries, and fears.  I want to carry her when she feels too weak and too tired to spend another day questioning what’s next?  I want to sit with her at Alden Library; drink coffee at Donkey; buy her a shot of liquid therapy at Red Brick and Cat’s Eye and The Pigskin.  I want to take her to Libby’s and my secret bench on South Green that helped us work through our own problems and walk her around the back streets of Athens as Brandon and I did when we needed a listening ear.  I want to show her that she will get through these tough times and that I’ll always be there to remind her of so.

And listening to Taylor Swift’s new song, Never Grow Up, I thought of Rebecca and her lovely little Hazel.  These lyrics led me to sending the song to Rebecca, indicating that I smiled think of their mother-daughter relationship, as well as the impact Hazel has on me: 

 I won’t let nobody hurt you, won’t let no one break your heart; And no one will desert you; Just try to never grow up, and never grow up

Rebecca responded with such gratitude, stating that this song put things into perspective again as she’s been run-down as the Terrible Twos continue to hit their household.  I am so happy that I am actually, physically able to be there for them next week!  Though as I feel with all of my friends, I want to be there for them all the time.  Through words I constantly tell Rebecca how much I admire her and how she inspires me to (maybe) become a mother one day.  But I want to show her through a hug, a smile, a girl’s day of pampering how much her family has impacted my life.  I want to be there beside her to take away her stress and remind her to enjoy all the little joys that Hazel and George bring her life and all of ours.

Going back and thinking about yesterday when I was waiting for the train, maybe I didn’t necessarily want someone to put there arm around me.  Perhaps I wanted to put my arm around someone else.  Isn’t that more likely for me?  Afterall I’ve been thinking about all of the people- more than just the ones mentioned above- that need my support these days.  Maybe I just wanted one of them to be beside me, to put my arm around them?  I don’t know.  Remembering that moment, I definitely wanted an arm around me.  Perhaps I’m finally ready to let someone be there for me?

Dating back to my teenage years, I’ve struggled to find people who I could trust and really open up to.  All of these friends that I praise in my blog posts- the four above being included- have really helped me breathe again.  They’ve showed me that not only can some people be trusted, but that I need to be able to confide in others to be by my mind; to let them put their arm around me.  One day, hopefully sooner than later, that arm will belong to a cute guy that does like me for me.  Flaws and all.