Archive for the ‘dreamer’ Tag
2:37 am: The time my clock read when I unfortunately woke last night from a dream I wish I was still dreaming. Actually it was a dream that I wish wasn’t just a dream but instead my reality. Rolling back over I thought about falling back asleep right away hoping to continue the dream, but even my half-awake mind knew very well that I’d be more likely to have a nightmare than find myself back in Tuesday Night’s Dream: Act 2. So instead I laid awake in my bed and daydreamed about my dream. It felt so real. So nice. It was such a simple dream; simple enough to be real.
Selena and I escaped the office today to feed her 8-months pregnancy cravings with Noodles & Company. In the car she told me about two dreams of hers from the past week. Both of her dreams were simple and quite realistic. In fact both dreams came true, foreshadowing moments in her awakened life. I asked her if she woke up shortly after the message was announced (in her dream). “Yes… a little bit after,” she replied.
And that’s what happened to me last night. Shortly after the hopefully foreshadowing message was received in my subconscious mind, I woke up and stayed awake until 3:17 just think about the dream. It really was a simple dream. Though very heartfelt. It meant something to me, and that’s why I’m not going to share the details of it. So here’s to hoping that in some way, shape or form that dream becomes my reality.
The best way to make your dreams come true is to wake up. ~ Paul Valery
The post I wrote on Sunday, October 10th will explain the ideas behind the Unsent Love Letter Mix Tape series, and if it still doesn’t make sense to you, well then, at least it makes sense to me. The writer. The blogger. The girl behind the computer. Call me what you will but these are my letters. Love Letters. Some will be traditional love letters and some will be love letters of another sort. These are my love letters to those that I love…or once loved…or will one day love. Let me point out that my plan is not to send these letters, but to write them as though I was sending them.
Track 7 is written to my Mom & Dad. After talking to both on the phone this evening, I found myself defending my choice to follow my dreams, follow my heart against their lack of support and conflicting viewpoint. The two people who I seek support, encouragement, and guidance from the most were trying to discourage me. To say I’m upset is an understatement. I don’t know how I feel. Let down, perhaps? Anyways, it is because I’m not sure if/when I will talk to them next that I write this love letter, because I do love them I’m just not sure if I like them much right now.
Dear Mom & Dad,
I am writing this letter to you because I love you. If I didn’t then I wouldn’t take the time to write and let you know how I feel, hoping that we find some common ground and understanding. See, in speaking to you both this evening- separately, I found myself upset listening to your ‘speeches’ and speaking up passionately to defend myself and the choices that I’m making.
I do need to (again) point out that I understand and appreciate the points you made during our discussions and as I said to both of you separately, all of these are things that I have taken into consideration multiple times. However, my passion for this line of work and the joy I get from it override each and every reason you gave me. I guess I just thought that you finally understood how dedicated I am to all things that align with me pursuing my passions and dreams. I thought that I had your support. I thought you wanted me to be happy. I guess I thought wrong.
I got off the phone with frustration steaming through my veins, and it upsets me more that you have no idea how much your words affected me. Did I take what you were saying the wrong way? Was that your way of saying “I believe in you”, “I support you”, and “Go get ’em, Tiger”? Yeah, I didn’t think so.
You are my parents. Your opinion means the world to me, and knowing that you do believe and support me are truly what I need the most in this take chances, carpe diem world of slamming doors and negativity.
I’ve lived in Chicago for two years now and you know this has been the biggest struggle of my life. But what I realized tonight is, you don’t know just how rough the struggle has been for me, do you? While you’ve been by my side, you have not worn my shoes. You have not felt what I’ve felt, nor have you felt completely empty- feeling nothing at all- for as many days I have. You will never understand how I’ve struggled.
You have never worn my shoes and you never will. You will never be an anxiety-ridden twenty-seven year old female who moves into a strange new city for a job that turns out to be exactly the opposite of what she anticipated it being. You will never know what it’s like to feel alone in a place filled with millions of people. You will never see the things that I’ve seen nor hear what I’ve heard. You will never feel what I’ve felt, and haven’t felt.
You have never worn my shoes, the shoes of a single women that is forced to provide herself with the love and support that a significant other is meant to give. You’ve been with one another since you were teenagers and therefore you do not know what it’s like to wake up feeling lonely and know that the same thing is going to happen again tomorrow unless a miracle finally happens.
You have never worn the shoes on a broken-hearted soul. You do not know what it’s like to be surrounded by millions of people and still pine for someone who you may never see again. You will never wear these shoes, and it doesn’t seem like you’ll ever understand that I do wear these worn-out shoes.
You have never worn the shoes of a dreamer. You do not know what it’s like to feel unfilled until you explore your passions and dreams. There’s always a dream, and therefore a dreamer’s mileage is infinite.
You do not know what it’s like to question who you are; question where you belong; nor question if you belong anywhere. You may never wear my shoes, but as my parents I hope that you can understand the shoes that I wear every day. I wish you could understand what I need from you.
Song of the Moment: Brave by Idina Menzel
Maybe I’m homesick?
I thought this as the possible explanation as I walked down from the children’s hospital last night after volunteering, and again this morning on the way to the train station. Why do I feel so blah? Wasn’t I just high on life last week, bouncing around the elementary school covered in paint and tape? Didn’t I just sing praises for my 3 am alarm giving me the opportunity to send off kids and their families on well-deserved trips far, far away from hospital rooms and doctor appointments?
YES and YES, but back to the harsh reality of, well, reality- also known as the work week. I know it’s Wednesday, but for some reason that isn’t helping too much. So what gives? Am I homesick? Maybe. I’m not sure. Am I stressed out? Perhaps a little but I’ve been a lot worse before. Seriously, what’s up with this week? Am I the only one who feels this way?
“If you’re a bird, I’m a bird.” That darn line from The Notebook has been in my mind all day ever since I saw a Facebook-friend from high school’s status this morning: Love is patient. Without thinking, I hit “Like”. Hours later I’m still thinking about the line, but not in the sense of romantic love. Instead I wonder for how long one can be patient when it comes to their passions. How long will you wait, how much time & energy can you exert, for a dream to come true?
I’ve spent a lot of my life dreaming, but I’ve never believed in something as much as I do right now. (Okay, maybe one other thing but this isn’t about him.) I know my dream, my goal. I know it’s attainable, but when is it going to work out? Will I ever lose steam trying and trying and trying to catch a break? I know it’s worth it, and the kids are worth it. And as much as I doubt myself, I know that I am deserving and qualified to fulfill such a role.
But unfortunately when it comes to new opportunities, sometimes we’re just a piece of paper to new eyes. We have no soul. No heart. We are only the letters on the page and the words they form. How they’re perceived is a mixture of luck, chance, and, well, luck. The black font doesn’t always show our hopes, our dreams, our beliefs, our talents, our skills, our beauty. If you know me, really know me, you know all of this is ‘me’- the things a piece of paper cannot always show.
Let me leave you with this thought. When we fly the coup (ie leave our parents’ house and/or our hometown), we don’t always know our destination. Okay, some people do so I’ll change that. When I flew the coup 3 1/2 years ago, I didn’t know where my flight would eventually lead me. Last night, in a weak moment on my walk home I thought, maybe I should go back to Pittsburgh. Maybe that’s the best decision for me. It’s not. I know that, but at least there I know that three people help me feel like I belong somewhere, as well as the past where I first really learned to fly.
But did I really learn to fly then, as a child, as a teen? The world was so much smaller back then. The sky was full of boundaries and limited opportunities. That alone makes me realize that my wings were still clipped, hence the reason I couldn’t fully fly and therefore, young birds fall more than soar. But that was then, and now they’re no longer clipped. I’m free to fly wherever my wings will permit me to go.
So I decided to ‘fly’ to Cleveland this weekend to visit Julie & Ken. Up until a few hours ago, I wasn’t sure if it was going to work. But when something is that important to you, like Juls is to me, you find a way to make it work. So this little bird is headed back to O-H-I-O for some much-needed R&R, bonding, and Megabus soul-searching this weekend. This may be the time that I decide not to come back to Chicago…we’ll see. This bird is ready to fly, and fly she will. Somewhere, anywhere she belongs.
Are we falling or flying?
Are we living or dying?
Cause my friend this too shall pass
So play every show like it’s your last
~Grace Potter and The Nocturnals, Falling or Flying
We used to have a small video store right near my house. We’d trek through the Robinson’s back yard, cross Middle Road, maybe run inside Wagner’s Market to pick up something for dinner for my mom, and then over to browse the aisles for the available VHS tapes. Yep, no DVDs yet. Does that age me? Anyways, I remember looking for something new to catch my eye; however I tended to always choose the same ones, such as: My Father the Hero, Now and Then, Casper, Clueless, My Best Friend’s Wedding, and if I wasn’t feeling well then I almost always opted for The Cutting Edge and French Kiss (not sure why.) I vaguely remember my dad asking me once, “Don’t you want to watch something new?” “No. Not really.” I never knew the right reason to defend myself, but after hearing this line in a Gossip Girl (title of post) I finally had my answer. Like Blair, “I like knowing how things are going to turn out.”
These days I still have my go-to-movie choices, although they seem to have a little more depth to them and model some of the aspects in my life more closely. The Notebook, The Time Traveler’s Wife, and 500 Days of Summer are common ones, and I have a feeling that Eat Pray Love will be on that list as soon as I own it. These are the movies that I turn to on Sick Days, Bored Days, “Me” Days, Hanging out with My Girls Days, and inevitably on those I Just Need a Good Cry Days. Why do I turn to these movies on such various occasions?None of these are the basic 90-minute love story, and in fact each of the respective couples face their own obstacles and personal challenges. But no matter what ride each undergoes, I always know how it ends. For instance, do you know why I really like watching The Notebook? It’s because the movie reminds me how important it is to believe in something. We all need something to believe in. We need to know that our efforts are making a difference and that we really are working towards something important to us.
Right now, I need something to believe in. Stef reminded me of the song One Day You Will by Lady Antebellum. One of the lines in the song says: You wake up every morning and ask yourself, What am I doing here anyway? I know, I know. Everything happens for a reason…life is about the journey, not the destination…yada yada yada. But with the anxiety I’ve been experiencing lately, this question floats around my mind immediately upon waking up and several times throughout the day. What am I doing with my life?
Time and time again I refer to myself as a dreamer, but fail to elaborate that it means I’ll also a believer, believing that the dream actually has a chance of coming true. Because of this quality I have a hard time giving up on things. Mix it in with my stubbornness (from my father) and my will-power and you have someone who is willing to fighter for anything she’s believes in. For instance, do you even know how many times I wanted to give up on Casey? Every day for years, but something within me said to keep believing. So I believed. I believed even though it pained me to think about him, to wait for him; but then it hurt more not to. But now I wonder if he was nothing more than something that I made myself believe in. I fought myself to keep believing in him; in us; that we were meant to be together (for some serendipitous reason). I believed that I always knew our ending, and therefore, all of our obstacles were worth fighting through. But maybe my beliefs were all wrong…
Belief makes things feel, feel alright. Those are lyrics from the song Belief by Gavin Degraw. I used to listen to that song over and over again, and now, I cannot. I just tried listening to the song when I linked it and had to turn it off. What happened to me?
Yesterday I found myself angry as I was walking through Lakeview to meet up with Stef & Rory, and I told them about this because I couldn’t believe it myself. I am not an angry person at all and never have been! What is wrong with me? Sorry Chicago, but I have to hold you somewhat responsible for my current emotional statement. I think I’ve grinned and bared it for so long and now feeling the repercussions of those repressed feelings…maybe? Whatever it is, it needs to end. My head is pounding with pain and anxiety. I need something to believe in. I need to know that this is more than the life is a journey BS that I’ve been feeding myself.
I need to believe in the line, beauty attracts beauty, that I read in Eat. Pray. Love. yesterday.
I need to know what I’m fighting for.
I need to know how this all turns out so I can keep myself going. Because right now, I really don’t know. If you tell me what it’s all about, I’ll keep fighting. I promise.
The long 4th of July weekend is coming to an end, and not one post has been typed by these fingers. But let me tell you that I’ve stared at this computer screen each of the past three days- multiple times- trying to capture all of the rubbish going on in my mind into words.
Nothing. Blogger’s block sounds like the correct terminology to use here. Whatever it is, it needs to end. Like I’ve said before, blogging is my therapy and I need therapy! It’s just not enough for me that it’s Monday and I’m not working…I need to cleanse my anxiety-ridden mind right now. Bear with me because I may find that once I start, all of the thoughts from Friday, Saturday, and Sunday are going to be purged onto this post. My sincere apologies.
This weekend marked another holiday that I spent away from family and friends. I’ve gotten used to it by now, but it’s still never easy. Actually ever since college, I’ve probably spent more holidays away from my family than ones with them. The excuse that I’ve made is, “…afterall it’s just another day”, but anyone who wears my shoes knows that there’s not a ton of truth in that statement. Fortunately, most of the time I’ve had friends and adoptive family members to take me in and help pass the day.
For the last two 4th of Julys I’ve spent my day with Karrie, here in Chicago. Instead of partaking in the Taste of Chicago and downtown fireworks, we enjoyed Scooter’s, fresh fruit, red wine, and a Twilight movie marathon. After watching Twilight and New Moon from the comfort of Karrie’s apartment, we spontaneously decided to bypass the fireworks for Eclipse. While this wasn’t the traditional/ exciting long weekend in Chicago, I have to say that it was exactly what my tired- rundown body and mind needed.
My friend Laura’s FB status yesterday read: Thinks that holidays in general are annoying for single people. I have to agree, although I’m definitely not drowning myself in liquor, wearing sweatpants, and sobbing about being single…and one of the reasons I adore Laura is because I know she isn’t either. But her status brought this thought to my attention: Why do single people feel like they’re the only single person in the world on holidays?
For a girl who has been single for the majority of her life, I really am okay with it. Now if I wasn’t still mending a broken heart and questioning the ways of the world, then I’m sure I’d feel even better about it….but that’s for another day (s) and another post (s). Though, let me play my woe is me card for just a second and share this experience with you, which is one of the things I”ve been trying to write about for the past few days.
On Saturday morning, for the first time since probably the beginning of January, I woke up without an alarm clock. Actually my body clock woke me up at 7 am-ish, and after cursing my clock, I rolled back over and slept until 10 am. Why? Because I could? However, I felt ‘off’ the rest of the day as I tried to make up for the lost few hours. (Note: Kids, it’s not a joke, you will not be able to sleep in when you get old(er) so enjoy it while you can.)
Waking up I found myself wishing that I was waking up next to someone- someone I care remotely about of course. This is one of the simply joyous pleasures in life, and one of the reasons that I would like to change my single status to at least an ‘it’s completed’. A few months ago I said that all I wanted was a guy that would spoil me by running down to Starbucks and grab me a Soy AmeriMisto before I woke up. I think Edward would do that for me. Maybe my ‘it’s complicated’ boy is a vampire? Where do I sign up for one of those?
People always ask me why I don’t have a boyfriend, or a friend will tell me that their boyfriend/husband asks them the question once they meet me and say how cute and nice I am. Typically I blush and smile with embarrassment before reaching into my bag of defense mechanisms for an “excuse”. Right now the one I’ve been using is, “Only crazies, gays and homeless men hit on me.”- which I swear is true! But in all honesty, I don’t know the reason behind the reason I don’t have a boyfriend…or any sort of boy-anything for that matter. It’s something that I spend time thinking about on the holidays when family, friends, and love…past love…are the underlying themes that play over and over again in my mind.
I’d be lying if I say that I didn’t imagine being at a (insert name here) family cookout, playing cornhole and drinking margaritas or wine with (insert name here)’s mom and dad. Or perhaps we’d be on a boat with our friends, telling the story of how we met, with his friends saying how they’d never seen him this happy.
What can I say…I am a dreamer. The Dave Matthews Band’s song Grey Street, might as well be about me:
Oh look at how she listens; She says nothing of what she thinks ; She just goes stumbling through her memories; Staring out onto Grey Street. And she thinks…hey…How did I come to this; I dreamed myself a million times around the world; But I can’t get out of this place.
The dreamer has become more of a do-er; however, evidence shows that once a dreamer, always a dreamer. If I could change it slightly, I would. But how do you change who you’ve always been? What you’ve always known?
Truthfully, I do not know how to be anything but single. I am the most selfless person, but when it comes to personal relationships I may be selfish. I say this because I know that I have so much love to give another and I honestly think that I’d make an A.MAY.ZING. girlfriend, but I just don’t know how to get ‘there’. The most important thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in returned. This line is on my mental playlist each and every day, and as much as I ‘hear’ it, when I look back I just wonder if anything has really changed? How many holidays have passed that I wished I had someone by my side to enjoy them with? How many more holidays will pass before this changes and I can go to bed with some and wake up next them?
This is another song that has resonated with me this past weekend after seeing it performed on So You Think You Can Dance. The song is Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri. I immediately attached myself to this song, for many reasons, but may favorite, most impactful moment in the performance comes at 1:18…but I think I’m going to come back to this in another post later on. Rather led me go with this line in the song as an end to this post: I learned to live half alive. Whether you’re still wounding a broken heart or just without love, you know that there’s also that empty part within you….the feeling that something is missing.
How does love make you feel so alive? How does not having it make you feel so dead inside? How does waking up next to someone, that you care about/love just make you feel whole inside; that you could lie there all day next to him, and that’s all you really need? And if there just so happens to be a cup of coffee next to you when you wake up, then do me a favor. Cancel all your plans for the day. Turn off your cell phone. Because everything you need is right there beside you.
We are formed and molded by our thoughts. Those whose minds are shaped by selfless thoughts give joy when they speak or act. Joy follows them like a shadow that never leaves them. (Buddha)
June 30, 2010: This date is signifcant for many relatively insignificant reasons. First and foremost it means that I survived the nomandic months of April, May, and June, and I’m actually surprised to still be standing. I won’t lie, I do wake up most mornings wondering where I am and where I need to be. It even takes me a few moments to remember the day of the week, and forget the date(!) because I never know that- today is just a fortunate exception. Today also marks the end of the first half of 2010. It’s hard to believe that 6 months ago, I was making a pact with Adriana about how 2010 is going to be our year. I think one of us even swore of boys/boyfriends, but I’ll let that part slide especially since I love PDoug so much!
Gosh, I cannot believe July 1st is tomorrow (or at least I’m assuming so…thirty days past September, April, June…yes, tomorrow should be July 1st.) I’ve be anticipating July because I kept telling people that ‘things slow down for me in July’ so that they can visit and/or I can plan a visit to see them- the ones I haven’t been seeing these past few months. But with new volunteer opportunties with Make-A-Wish and Children’s Memorial Hospital coming into the mix, it looks like July is going to be keeping me busy (but in Chicago, fortunately).
For some reason I’m experiencing blogger’s block today and even that second cup of coffee still wasn’t providing me with inspiration. However, ask and you shall receive! My new friend and fellow blogger at this life of mine wrote a post today which I encourage you all to read: Throw the Rule Book Out the Window. I was captivated by this post as it immediately made me think about the decisions that I’ve made using my head instead of my heart, as well as the common thoughts that seem to cross my mind about life, love, and making choices.
Kate said it simply and best: Sometimes in life, you have to throw out the “rule book” and follow your heart. In January I decided to do just that by living fearlessly, without regrets, and taking numerous chances. Actually my only regret is that I didn’t decide to do so sooner.
I just sent a message to my favorite high school English teacher, who I recently reconnected with via the lovely world of Facebook. Combine that communication with Kate’s post, and this is where my mind is right now:
I used to believe wholeheartedly that everything happens for a reason as a result of fate deciding what path we aremeant to follow. I believed that for a long time…too long….holding myself back from missed opportunities because I mistakenly thought that I was supposed to keep going straight- living day by day- and that POOF! something and/or someone (Prince Charming-esque) would just magically appeared and be the road for me to follow. What a foolish little spider monkey (lol) I was! I was a dreamer. I used to imagine how my life could be, sitting around hoping that my fairy godmother would grant my wish(es). These wishes were fantasies. Things that I thought would bring me the happiness I’ve always sought after. Again, I was foolish.
Today Kate’s post reminded me, once again, the importance of listening to your heart. The heart is your number one guide. When it comes to what the heart feels, there are no censors. There are no rules, no rule book. What the heart wants, the heart should get. However, it’s up to us to make that happen! If you remember anything, remember this: We create our own fate through the risks we take and the choices we make.
I am a victim of this to so I have the right to say that we (all) generally turn to other people to tell us what to do and what we want. This is mistake #1, with mistake #2 being that we don’t listen to our hearts enough. Take time to pay attention to what you’re feeling. On Sunday I wrote a post about feeling alive and posing the question of what makes you feel alive. Remember that feeling because it’s the telling you what you really want and if you don’t have that feeling then maybe it’s not as important to you as you think it is.
If I can leave you with one last thought, it’s something that I’ve said before and I’ll say again: Do the things you’d regret not doing. Apply for that job! Ask that boy/girl out! Move to (insert city/country here) if you feel like it’s the place for you! You have absolutely nothing to lose and everything to gain.
So thanks everyone for bearing with me these past few months! Hopefully I’m be writing more consistently and not be as exhausted as I have been.
But you and your heart shouldn’t feel so far apart; You can choose what you take; Why you gotta break and make it feel so hard.
Jack Johnson- You and Your Heart
As mentioned in yesterday’s post, I am going to divulge the details from my past, well since graduating high school, up until this point. This June marks my 4th anniversary as an Ohio U alum, and therefore I feel the need to look back on all of my Junes, beginning with June 2002- when I graduated from my alma mater, Hampton High School.
Let’s pretend that this is me. Juliet. Young, naive, innocent, fragile, hopeful, optimistic…but like Juliet, I had no idea what life had in store for me. Okay, this is a little far-fetched but at least it paints the idea, or if anything, this particular image portrays the 18-year old dreamer that I was at the time of my high school graduation.
From what I can remember, the Hampton High School Class of 2002 graduated on Friday, May 24th, or perhaps May 31st. We were supposed to have our ceremony at the football stadium (the first class to do so at HHS); however, the weather prevented that from happening. While I cannot remember every detail of that day, I do remember a period of time in the afternoon when I spend some alone time on my back deck, listening to Michelle Branch’s first cd and playing the song, Goodbye to You, over and over again. I still listen to this song and think about this memory. I was so down that day; overwhelmed by emotions; terrorized by the unknown. High school was far from the perfect time in my life, but I really felt like I was saying goodbye to who I was and everything that I had held onto for at least 4 years. I had an identity. I knew a lot of people, and a lot of people knew me. It was the last time though that I really felt like Kristen Medica. The last time in my life that I really knew who I was...and ironically I knew nothing at that time. Nothing except what I learned in The Hampton Bubble (what we called our hometown).
I should rewind and tell you that I was President of the Class of 2002 since my freshman year. In this position, I was blessed to be able to welcome everyone to the graduation ceremony, and also led the turning of the tassels at the end of the ceremony. I was a bit nervous beforehand, but having MC’ed the Senior Salute (talent show/farewell) a few weeks before, I was more comfortable speaking in front of the jam-packed audience and my fellow classmates.
It really is all a blur, especially being that it was 8 years ago; however, I can still envision many moments from that evening. The first being the greeting, where I looked out in the audience and felt proud to be the one fortunate enough to honor my classmates for their achievement. My second memory was later in the ceremony, during the passing out of diplomas. I believe that I was responsible for handing out roses to the female graduates and shake the hands of my male classmates after they received their diploma. This simple moment turned into a hug/love fest, and I’m still surprised at how many people I ended up hugging.
The most memorable moment though came at the end. Now I was granted the honor to initiate the turning of the tassels, but I really wanted to share this opportunity with the other Class Council members, Valedictorian, and Salutatorian…with a little help from the MVP of the Class of 2002, Kellen Wheeler. Just like at all our football games, Kellen let the 3,2,1 chant for the tassels to turn then caps were flying in the air.
Goodbye, high school.
Summer began with my Senior Trip to OBX in, which ended up with me being the only girl there. (Don’t judge. They were all friends, well at least that’s how I saw them.) And of course there was at least one graduation party every night- and I remember skipping a lot of them because with work it just proved to be too much. I also recall having a breakdown that summer, deciding that college just wasn’t for me…which caused a huge fight with my parents. Obviously they won out- my mom’s dream was for her kids to go to college since she did not have the opportunity to. Thank you, Mom, for not letting me give up on ‘your dream’.
The summer went by so fast as I worked as a Snack Shacker at the Hampton Pool (best job ever, minus 7 am bathroom cleaning duty) and ran around with friends- listening to a lot of Weezer and Dashboard Confessional- courtesy of the lovely Evan O’Rourke.
El Scorcho…The Good Life… Hands Down…The Places that You’ve Come to Fear the Most… So Long Sweet Summer
I actually think that the titles of these songs capture my Summer (of 2002) fairly well.
So you may or may not know this, but I ended up going to Kent State my freshman year (which is where I met Julie). Up until March of my senior year, I was going to OU but for reasons I won’t disclose, I ended up changing my mind and going to Kent instead. If it wasn’t for Julie then I’d probably identify this as a huge mistake; however I think it happened for a reason and made me appreciate OU more once I got there the following year.
June 2002 was my last summer as Kristen Medica from Hampton, or as least as I’m concerned. I’ll shed more light on this in the coming post, but after my first year of college, a lot of things quickly changed- some for the best. Not only did I finally break out of “The Bubble”, but I took the first step on my journey- whether I knew it back then or not. Part of me wishes I knew back then what I know now, but then again I doubt I’d be where I am today. Maybe that’s not a bad thing though. Maybe I’d be somewhere better? Anyways, no more woulda, shoulda, couldas, right?
At eighteen years old I was the definition of a dreamer, and I even wrote ‘dreamer’ on my wrist just like Michelle Branch has it written on her in the Goodbye to You video (tagged above). In those days I believed that the world was good, that people were good and could be trusted. And most importantly, I still believed in love. I believed that my bad luck with boys would soon change, and that the love of my life was in my near future (at Kent). Was I naive? Abso-f’in-lutely. But I’d also give anything to go back for a day and see the world through those rose-tinted glasses…believing that the world was good.