Walking Away From Home

I don't know what to do about the temple lately.

It started the first weekend of April. Friday afternoon before conference, I went up to Salt Lake with a bunch of friends to attend a session in the Salt Lake Temple, which was lovely. I hadn't been to the Salt Lake Temple since the very first time I went through, back in November 2015, so the memories were coming back strong in the best way possible.

And it was such a lovely session, and being in the celestial room with some of my favourite people in the world was incredible. I was feeling all sorts of things.

But then we had to leave. And walking out of that celestial room was almost physically painful to me. Every step away was a deep sorrow in my soul, this feeling like I was leaving something so important behind me and I wasn't going to be back for a very long time.

It was an odd feeling, and a stark contrast to the sense of home and peace and light I feel in the temple.

I... did not love it.

But I didn't dwell too much on it because then it was conference weekend and we were on Temple Square for general conference and it was so wonderful and I was so glad to be there.

But then the next time I went to the temple, it happened again. And it's been happening ever since.

This feeling has almost made me not want to go to the temple, because I don't want to feel so terrible when I leave.

It doesn't seem to matter how frequently I go. Even if I'm there weekly, I break when I leave. I try to go often, because as I said, the temple feels like home and it's light and love and peace for me. But I can't convince the feeling in my chest that I'm coming back, no matter how regularly I go.

It varies in intensity. It's worst when I'm alone. When I have a friend there, they can distract me from the pain of walking away from home again. About two months ago, I was telling my friend Maz about it, after we'd been to the temple together, struggling to explain this void that opens up in me and the way that it hurts to leave the temple.

"Sounds like there's a question you need to be asking, Rose," he said, "What is it?"

"I wish I knew..."

I've been thinking about that a lot.

About what it is that I should be asking. What I need to take to the temple to walk away without feeling like my heart is breaking, my soul is cracking open, like I'm leaving something critical behind me and I'm never coming back.

I'm not sure.

But I felt it again this week when I was there with Gyb.

And it hurts.

Resolution

It has been two weeks, one day, and eighteen hours since we talked.

I'm still fighting to find emotional equilibrium, but I've gotta get this down.

I knew I needed to talk to you, to tell you what I'm feeling and hear where you're at. I was fairly certain this wasn't gonna happen, but I knew, I knew, that for my own peace of mind, I needed to hear it from you.

And there were so many chances I almost took but didn't and I was so stressed.

So so stressed.

I pretty much didn't eat for a week.

And I finally got to this deadline I had set for myself, your summer getting real crazy, and I had to talk to you. So this one night, I called you up, invited you to come wander around with me, with the intent of talking to you. You couldn't, but I had to tell you, had to, so I kept you on the line, asked for your help with a couple things.

You obliged, of course, because that's who you are.

So I asked for your opinion/information regarding a couple of our other friends, and whether he might be into her...

And then you said "and the second thing?" and I lose ALL faculty
-there is a long pause-
me: wow in my head I was so cool but in practice I am not good at this
-pause-
me: so the thing is
me: the thing is, I like you and I was kinda wondering if you're anywhere in that ballpark
pause
you: Rose. I actually need to talk to you about that.

I legit collapsed, sitting on the base of a light pole, but it's cool

And then you asked if we could meet up the next morning, to talk. So of course I agreed, panicking all the while. We initially set that meeting for my apartment, but I rescheduled with you saying that Jad wanted to meet up with me on campus, and could we meet there instead? Of course, you obliged. 

The thing is, I got to thinking, and I was pretty sure you'd invited yourself over to break my heart, and I just didn't want to do that in my apartment. The other thing is, I really didn't know what to expect. I had several things I had expected you to say to me
-I'm sorry, I don't feel the same
-Nawh man, we're friends, that's it
-Oh, I had no idea. Whoa. I hadn't thought about that
-Yeah, I know... but I don't feel that way.
but I didn't expect you to say my name so carefully, I could hear how much you cared in the way you said my name, and I didn't expect you to say you "need to talk to me about that." This implied that you knew? You'd been thinking about it? Maybe we were both avoiding/needing this conversation?

I didn't know. I didn't know what to expect from the conversation, I had no idea what you felt you needed to say. So I didn't know what to bring.

But I told Jad and my sister that night, while I was just,,,waiting, "He's gonna break my heart though, I just know it, and he's going to be so lovely and gentle about it."

I didn't realise how right I was.

So we met up that next morning (two weeks, one day, and eighteen hours ago).

You gave me a hug when you got there. 

And we chatted for a few minutes- you followed up about the friends I had asked about the day before, we talked about some other mutual friends... but we both knew why we were there.

And then you looked at me, and you asked, "So, what are you thinking, feeling, right now?"

Man. What a line to open with. What do I do with that?

So I said that I'd had so many things I expected you to say, and that was not one of them, and I couldn't believe you'd go off book at a time like this (because I'm a disastrous mess and everything is a joke because it's my only defense mechanism) and I was talking about the evening before, on the phone, but I didn't really clarify that?

And you looked so... hurt isn't the right word- concerned, I suppose, and then you said, "You didn't think I would ask you about your feelings?"

And oh, the floor dropped from under me, because of course you would, of course of course of course, and then I just pAnIcKeD and said that that wasn't what I meant, sorry, sorry.

Then I started rambling about how maybe it's super selfish of me, and maybe it's really bad timing, but I just had to throw this into the universe and know, and then I said something about how I think you're great, and I'm so glad we've been friends, and I just also happen to think you have a very nice face.

You laughed, and said that was a good way to put it.

Looking back on it, there are so many more things I could have said to you... but I figured you were going to tell me no, and I think I didn't want to say too much--because I always do--I didn't want to expose so much of my feelings when I knew you were most likely going to hand them back to me.

And then you started to talk... and I wasn't ready for it. You said how much you've enjoyed being my friend, hanging out with me and my friends as well. You said that you love how inclusive I am, how I go out of my way to make people feel valuable (and it's funny, I feel the same about you), and you said I'm so funny too, sarcastic. You talked about how much fun you have with me, how when we're together we play off each other, and we can just keep going. And you really enjoy spending time with me.

And I was stunned by the specificity of the things you said about me, and also nodding in agreement as you listed the things you appreciate about our friendship. But then you said, "But the thing is, I think we're too similar... and I don't think this would work out long term. I think I need someone who would balance me, and I can't ask you to be that, because you're wonderful the way you are."

A beat.

And then you asked me what I was thinking.

I honestly didn't know.

So I said I needed to process and then I stared out a window for legit ten seconds (and now I wonder what you were thinking then) and then I sort of summed up what I understood from what you had said, and asked if I had understood correctly, and you elaborated a little bit more.

Somewhere in all of this, you had mentioned that you were so glad I had said something, because you'd been wanting to have this conversation as well, and just never found the opportunity. You said you'd been thinking about it during the semester- talking with a friend of ours who I'd talked to as well. Major appreciation for Web for not giving any inkling that he knew anything, real solid confidant right there.

And then, oh and then, just to twist the dagger in a little farther, you said, "I guess I just want to know if I've done anything to hurt you or disappoint you?"

A million answers flashed through my brain, but what I said was, "I'm a raging overthinker with a really detailed memory, but I can't hold that against you... but you definitely did things during the semester that made me think the interest was reciprocal, and I kept hoping you'd do the next thing... but you never did."

And you said, "I did do those things. And that's what got me thinking about it..."

I think after that is when you moved into the fact that you can't really see yourself in a long term relationship right now at all, and then started talking about the rest of the summer, as an EFY counselor, kind of separate from it all, and how you're excited to have the summer to work some things out and excited to see who you are at the end of the summer. And you said how you hope it can be that for me as well.

You apologised at some point as well for not having this conversation earlier, and I said you weren't responsible for my feelings, and I could have done it earlier as well. You said you could tell it was hard for me to initiate this conversation, but you were glad I did. I told you I appreciated your honesty. You told me that your favourite thing that we did together last semester was the time I invited you to go running with me, and we just talked about our families and life. 

Some of this is out of order. It's been two weeks, one day, and eighteen hours after all. 

You said you felt like you had said a lot, and asked if I had anything more I wanted to say... I said I didn't, not really... and then we just started chatting again, about what the day looked like and what we would be doing. You had to get going, and you stood up to leave, and then asked if I had eaten breakfast, if I wanted to go grab a doughnut with you.

I wanted to cry.

I told you no, that I don't really eat a lot in the mornings, because it makes me nauseous, which is true. Also, I was so stressed that I hadn't been eating for a week, and I didn't need to nibble on a doughnut in front of you and then throw most of it away, and I wanted to cry, but I didn't say that.

So you hugged me again and then started to leave, and we joked about hanging out...sometime. Your schedule is about to get crazy, but it's cool.

The thing that hurts me about it more than maybe anything else, is that I could tell the whole conversation how much you care about me, that I'm an important person to you, that you value our friendship and me as a person, and that you really didn't want to hurt me, but you had to say the things you needed to say. 

And then I just sat there for like 20 minutes, processing. Called Gyb and my sister to talk through it. And I cried on the phone with both of them.

Talking to all the people I felt I needed to talk to about it over the next two days sucked. But I'm doing the aftermath in another post because this one is already too long.

But in that twenty minutes, and in the two weeks, one day, and eighteen hours since, I've thought about a lot. There is more I could have said.

I didn't come to that conversation prepared with an itemised list of all the things I adore about you and all the reasons I think it could work between us? I mean, of course I think we could work, otherwise why would I even say anything.

And what I could have said about you. You are positive and cheerful, dedicated, conscientious, you make people feel welcome, you remember details and make people feel important, you are so smart, and you work so hard, your enthusiasm is infectious, your commitment to the Gospel is evident in how you live.

What I would have said about us... I don't know. I feel like I could talk to you forever, you make me feel safe, we have so much fun together, I love that we're always laughing... I don't know what I would have said, because you basically lined up all the reasons why I think we could work and then you said that's why we wouldn't. Really cut my knees out from under me. It's mystifying to me that we looked at all the same data points and drew opposite conclusions. You think it wouldn't work because we're too similar. I think what we have is a great foundation to try.

Evidently we have differing viewpoints on this. I guess you're just looking for something specific, and whatever that is, I am not it.

But it feels like you shot this down without giving it a fair chance. I mean, how are we to know if we balance in a relationship or not if we don't try? I feel like so many of our interactions have been high key situations: friend group activities, dates (single and group), ward activities... But you said your favourite thing we did was that run, the one real chill low stakes serious interaction that we've had. And how you could look at that and decided that there's no chance just doesn't make any sense to me. But also, I appreciate your integrity in not just dating me to drop me later, when you really don't see this happening.  

I wonder how long you were sitting on this. Did you see the song I posted that last day of the semester? Was it earlier or later?
I maybe actually should have asked that.
The other questions are more like "was [this event] before or after you decided this wasn't gonna happen."
Those I don't need to know. I don't need to go back and add those to my notes. I need to let my memories live the way they are, even if there's a bitter to their sweet now. I don't need to draw a specific line.

Ugh. It's been two weeks, one day, and eighteen hours, and I'm still going over this, trying to make sense of it.

On the one hand, it was so incredibly validating to hear you say that you had done things that showed interest. There really were vibes. It wasn't just me seeing things that I wanted to be there. You did things. It was close- you were thinking about it, you thought about us. And it is such peace of mind for me that this conversation has happened, and that I know what you were thinking and where you're at.

On the other hand, I'm confused, and disappointed, and sad. So, so sad. Because it sucks to know that this was so close, but just not quite it. Because I get invested and stay invested, and it hurts when you care more than the other person does. Because you explained to me all your reasons, but they just don't make sense to me. We looked at all the same things and drew opposite answers. And I just don't get it. Maybe I never will.

Also, I'm a little worried that maybe I should have said more. I mean, I don't think I would have changed your mind. But I hope you know that there is so much more to this for me than just the fact that you have a nice face. I didn't express that very carefully. And maybe I should have.

Maybe next time I will.

But also. There's a part of me that's a little frustrated with you. You are exceptionally kind, but you didn't have to say so many lovely things about me- specific things, that prove you've paid attention to me, that show you know me. You didn't have to list quite so many things about our friendship that you appreciate. I know you were trying to soften the blow, but oh, there is such a thing as being too nice, and I think you were that. 

You just made it all so confusing to me....
I feel like the things you said don't line up with the things you said.

I say frustrated. But I'm not.

Not really.

I'm disappointed, and confused, and so, so sad.

But I know now.

I know now.

Pontificating

General Conference was this last weekend. It was full of good shenanigans with friends and a lot of doctrine. And maybe I will talk about the shenanigans later. Because right now, I just need to get some things down.

Friday afternoon we went with the friend crew up to Salt Lake to do a session in the temple. It was a really lovely experience, but man, it had me feeling some kind of way.

I don't know how to explain it exactly. As I've gotten older and my faith has gotten deeper, I've started to see a lot more nuance in the world, and I have a lot more questions. I'll have to write more about this, but not now. But the things that I keep holding on to are that the Gods, my Heavenly Parents, are in their heavens and They know me and love me, the temple feels like home in a way that I don't have the vocabulary to describe, and that the Book of Mormon brings light into my life.

But we went through this session, and I was so glad to be there with some of the people in this world who mean the most to me, and then sitting in the celestial room, after everything, I was just... overwhelmed.

There was an ache in my soul that I can't explain.

It is a strange sort of dissonance that I feel so at home in a place that I do not understand, and when I feel like there are significant problems with the institution of the church, but o! I love the temple.

And I was remembering when I went through the temple for the very first time, with my family, and it was this temple, and I had this startlingly clear memory of watching them all come into the celestial room one by one and being so glad they were there.

I was filled with love for my family and the friends I was there with and the fact that I was there, and it drowned out my confusion somehow, and all I could think was how I wanted to be there someday with everyone I love. But the questions I have, they still existed too.

And then when we went to leave, every step I took away from the celestial room felt like knives under my feet and some gaping hole in my soul opened wider and wider with every pace.

I had the feeling I was leaving something very important behind me, and I missed it so desperately.

I have never felt that before.

And then there was general conference, that wonderful semi-annual broadcast in which we hear from the leaders of the church. And so many of the messages were wonderful, but so many hit me in ways that I didn't expect. There was almost a feeling of... exclusivity, that I have never felt before.

Maybe it's simply because I've learned a lot in the last few years, and even in the last six months, my perspective has changed.

But there were more talks than I expected to that hurt, that left me wondering about the people who didn't fit those molds exactly, comments that somehow don't seem to align with the everlasting love of the Heavenly Parents that I know.

Of five sessions, only two women spoke. I was hoping for one every session, which feels like a low bar, but somehow we can't even manage it. And something about it feels so wrong to me, that the Apostles say over and over to listen to and respect the women, and we don't get to speak.

It doesn't feel right.

And it doesn't feel right that we never talk about Heavenly Mother. She is real, too, and surely she cares.

Don't give me that, "It's out of respect."

We respect our Father.

Don't give me that, "He's protecting Her."

She doesn't need to be protected from us, her children, the mortal progeny that she helped create.

Don't give me that, "It's just the way it is, it's the revelation we've received."

Because the way it is is run by men, and don't get me started on the patriarchal order of things (which is great in some ways, but also), but the thing is is that you ask questions that you need answers to, and somehow I wonder if the men standing in to lead the church have never felt the need to see the feminine in the Divine, never felt the aching to know that they were equal.

They certainly didn't go to the temple for the first time and gasp when a man administered an ordinance, they way I did when a woman administered to me.

I feel that there is so much more we could talk about, so much we are missing, because some of the needs aren't felt as keenly by those we have at the top. (and should it even be a top, it certainly feels that way, but aren't we all to serve each other, and I know authority matters, but still, should it feel like the top)

Women matter, we are equal partners, and yet.

And yet.

Two speakers out of thirty-one. Two prayers out of ten.

And you know, last October, when we wondered where all the women were, they said it was because of the women's session. And sure, it was wonderful and uplifting, but only one woman spoke in a general session. But this session, when it was the priesthood session, there was no great influx of women in the other sessions to round it out.

Womanhood, Heavenly Mother, representation.

These are just a few of the questions I had, a few of the things that didn't sit right with me during the wonderful weekend that was the 189th Annual General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

But it's all juxtaposed against the feeling that I left something crucial behind me when I walked out of the celestial room in the Salt Lake Temple Friday night, that that place is home.

I can't let go of that feeling.

But that doesn't stop the hurt, or the questions.

Five Months and Two Days

I flew out of Frankfurt on June 1.

It's been five months and two days.

Simultaneously the longest and the shortest time period of my life.

I miss Germany every day. I think about all the incredible people I met. I see myself wandering down random streets. I hear the laughter of my companions. I crave the food. I miss it so much.

And at the same time, it seems like the CRAZIEST dream. I lived in Germany for a year and a half? I speak German? I've been to Cologne, Heidelberg, Duesseldorf? I lived in Frankfurt? I met people from all over the world, tried crazy foods, fell in love with a people and a culture, cried when I left?

That last one's true, at least. Flying out of Frankfurt, I'm sitting by the window, Elder Evans on my other side, and we're both staring desperately at the Frankfurt skyline, because we're leaving home behind, and I cried.

I lived in Essen for the first half of my mission.

Spent two-thirds of my remaining time in Kaiserslautern.

Went home from Frankfurt.

Essen, the industrial city, the Ruhrpott, the city I called heaven and claimed as mine the second I stepped foot there.

Kaiserslautern, with the American military presence. all the tiny Dorfs, the castles, the mountains, the town that ran me through the wringer.

Frankfurt, the big city, the business capital, the crowd, the diversity, the city I fell in love with just as I was leaving.

There are so many things I could say, and so many people I should mention. But I just don't even know where to start.

Sister Sant, my angel trainer. Sister Whicker, my soul sister. Sister Tait, my tiny spitfire.
Sister Luymes, the drumbreak. Sister Hall, the refiner.
Sister Griffen, das Vorbild.

Akmal. Steven. William. Emmanuel. Nana. Ugbayas. Palvin. Jane. Lucky. Alexander. Bagawathsings. Farzad.
Nasar. Moustafa. Abubahka. Baha. Toni. Selam. Hewit. Stanke.
Jan. Abigail. Steven. Dave. Eyob. Richard. Moheeb.

Linneman. Neu. Dietz. Dirzus. Tewes. Danilakiis. Curth. Gabriel. Blome. Wieker. Schmidt.
Baader. Cruse. Jenny. Gardner. Hack. Oberlies. 
Johnson. Kearon. Markle. Kirk. Giada. Silva. Santos.

Essen, Dortmund, Oberhausen, Muelheim, Duesseldorf, Herne, Bochum. Ruhrpott Deutsch.
Kaiserlautern, Pirmasens, Heidelberg, Ramstein, Landstuhl, Frankenstein, Neidenfels. Pfaelsisch.
Frankfurt, Darmstadt, Wiesbaden. Hessisch.

I would go back in a heartbeat. Every day was a gift and a blessing, even the ones that were so hard. Every person was a joy. Every rainstorm, green hill, castle, Dorf, Bratwurst, grey day. Every ward I served in. Every member I met.

I love them. I miss them.

It's been five months and two days.

Home Means Nevada

I have a lot of thoughts and feelings and opinions right now and I need to rant a bit, write a bit, straighten it all out.

Weird side effect of my mission is that I came back political as all get-out. Before, I knew it was important and felt obligated to participate as a good citisen. But somewhere in the middle of Germany and the refugee crisis and a world that is so much bigger than me, I changed. Now, I get fired up and ready to go, on fire to advocate and create change.

So what happened this week hasn't just hit me as a tragedy that I'm waiting for someone to change. It struck me as something that I need to be vocal about and campaign for and fight for change.

Sunday night, at the Route 91 Harvest Festival, a country music festival, there was a shooting. Currently, there's 59 people dead and 527 more wounded in the US's deadliest mass shooting. Ever. And there is a lot of grief and rage and opinions being aired in the country right now, with the internet a place for vitriol and debate.

And here's my spiel.

As a Nevadan, I am heartbroken. It's not hard to picture it happening anywhere else, somewhere closer to home. Henderson, Reno, Elko, Wendover. We're all full of casinos and parties and festivals and people, every day. And I have friends who live in Vegas. As of yet, no one I know has been effected. But there's 586 families and communities out there that are reeling right now.

And it's terrifying to consider the fact that Americans make no progress to fix this problem. There's no "if there's a shooting," there's just, "when there's a shooting," and I've learned coping tactics in school and one time my high school was locked down for real because there was a man with a gun just a few blocks away. But it was lunchtime at an open campus school, and most of us didn't know it was a lockdown. If the situation had escalated, it would have ended heartbreakingly. That terrifies me.

If something doesn't change, I will raise my children in a place where random acts of mass-violence are inevitable and they can expect to be involved in one, even in this country that ought to be great and shining, an example for the world.

That breaks my heart.

Now is a time to mourn, to grieve, to support those effected.

But then it's time to talk solutions.

In the past few days, I've seen charts and graphs depicting America's gun problems and how many shootings we have and read opinions and ideas of what to change and how to handle this and honestly, I am so on board.

Yes, require a license. Yes, register gun buyers. Yes, a 48-hour delay. Yes, mandatory gun safety. No, silencers should not be easier to purchase. No, civilians do NOT need heavy artillery. Collectors? Fine. But they can't get ammunition. I know a lot of people have a lot of arguments for what I'm saying right now, but I don't care. I'm conservative about a lot of things, but if arguing for safety and reason puts me on the liberal side of this issue, I will stand there gladly.

Listen. I know people will claim 2nd Amendment "right to bear arms," but you know what? This is the full text:

A well regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed.

That was written as a direct result of what the American colonists had lived with as English citisens. Only the army could bear arms. Civilians had no way to defend themselves. The 2nd Amendment was written 200 years ago and was NOT written to allow civilians to collect hoards of heavy artillery.

Do gun control laws infringe on the right to self-defense? No. People could still obtain a gun, they'd just have to jump through a few hoops to do so. I'll always support your right to defend yourself. But I cannot support a system that allows people to easily perpetrate mass violence.

There is a time to fix things. There are things we can change. We have to look past political agendas and look at what is best for our country and for our future.

We can never bring back those who have lost their lives to gun violence. But we can take steps to prevent it from happening again. And that starts now.

There Are Moments

There are moments when I'm so angry that it's a good thing the object of my anger is not around, because I'd probably do something rash.

There are moments when I want to grab a person's shoulders and shake them silly because of the damage they are throwing around with their careless words.

There are moments when I can't find the words to reassure the people I love the most, and that hurts.

There are moments when I'm trying to be a good friend, a good listener, to reassure and soothe hurts, and it's hard because I want to go scream at the person who caused the pain.

There are moments when I wish people could see what their words have done, when I wish they could see the damage inflicted by the daggers they throw, meticulously sharpened and carefully aimed.

There are moments when I can't help.

There are moments when I sit, useless, while someone I love cries, and there is nothing that I can do to help them.

There are moments when I'm so angry I could scream, but I have to be the better person, and so I hold it in, because someone I love is hurting.

There are just... moments that stand out to me, when I've been upset on behalf of those I love, and there's nothing I can do to fix it, when I feel useless, and angry at the people who made my dear ones feel this way, and I just don't know what to do.

And I hate those moments.

Far-Distant and Unattainable Ideal v. Far Too Close and Far Too Real

Ahahahahahahahaha. I hope Rle doesn't decide to check out my blog and read this post today. Because I'm having a major ramble fest... AND. She'll ask questions.

So here's the deal. I have this sorta crush on this friend of mine, Tev. It's not, like, a huge deal, but... He's great. He's literally the nicest person I know, and he has this amazing, on fire testimony of the Gospel, and he's funny, and he sings, and he's cute... He's cool. But. I definitely just sit over here, with this crush on him, because I don't want to deal with actual like relationships or whatever else. And it's there, but not a huge deal.

So anyhow... Every once in a while, I get a little maudlin, and I just wish I had someone who'd text me. Like, it'd be nice if someone would text me and we could talk about stupid things or big things or nothing or everything. That is ((fact)) one of the only things that I miss about being in a relationship- is having that person you can talk to about everything. And sometimes I just want someone to have a crush on me. It's honestly super ridiculous... But there's that.

So then, there's this.... My friend, Top, had this book that I wanted to read (Ready Player One by Ernest Cline and OHMYGOSH I need to devote a post to it!)... So, last Saturday, he texted me when he was done with it, and then we kinda talked about it for a little... And on Monday, he gave me the book. And I got really excited, and plowed through it in less than two days. It's good. But we'd text while I was reading it, and talking in real life, and UGH.
And I kinda think I might have a crush on Top.

Here's the thing:
While I still admire Tev as one admires a far-distant and unattainable ideal... I think I like Top.

But... There's a catch. I'm not actually sure if I like him or if I just like the attention...
Let me explain.
Top is the kind of guy who just loves girls- if it's got two X chromosomes and is sentient, he'll go for it. And I say that with utmost affection- he's also a genuinely nice guy who respects women. But, Top is so in love with the idea of being in love that if he knows someone likes him, he'll like her too- whether or not he did before, he'll go for her, sincerely. And so I don't know if I actually like Top, or if I just like that if I told him I liked him, odds are, he'd like me back, and things might progress. WHICH I DON'T ACTUALLY WANT, because TOO MUCH COMPLICATION. Except for the part of me that wants someone to hold hands with and hug and kiss... and yeah. So this is the dilemma. Because do I actually like him, or do I just like that he'd like me, and doesn't that mean I'm just doing exactly what he does, and if something happened wouldn't it just be because we both knew the other person would like us if we liked them?
I DON'T EVEN KNOW.

So I've been feeling SO AWKWARD about this for the last week, like, freaking out about talking to Top (do I like him, what is happening, he has cute brown eyes, we geek out hardcore) and then feeling uncomfortable every time Top and Tev happen to be in the same place, and then Rle and my sister and our friend Ini are teasing me about Tev because they know, and I just feel SO AWKWARD.

And like, Sunday, I visited another ward for a mission farewell- I ended up sitting by Tev (freaking out, because he makes me nervous and just want to be a better person) and staring at the back of Top's head, contemplating how nice his hair looked. WHAT EVEN. And then Rle and Ini and I were talking to G.M. and Rle said something about a texting flirtationship Top's got going right now with some girl, and it hurt just a little. WHAT EVEN.

I don't like this and I don't know what to feel about it and I don't know what to think about it and I don't know who to talk to about it and I just don't know what to do AT ALL.

BONUS ROUND: I also know that Top has no problem with making out and whatever else (he's been a little farther than he should have been)....... And if this all went down, that could happen. And I don't think I'm prepared to sign up for that... And then part of me wonders what it would be like to make out with him. Like, is he a good kisser? UGH. What?? Why am I even?

I don't like this. HILF MIR BITTE.

Almost Real

So, there is a musical called the Bridges of Madison County, and there is this INCREDIBLE song in it called "Almost Real." It was introduced to me by my voice teacher, G.M.

I'm obsessed with it.

It's an absolutely stunning piece of music, and watching Kelli O'Hara sing it is amazing, because she is SO committed to the character, and there is so much emotion.
Basically it's perfect.

And also.... I can't get over this song, because it expressed something I couldn't- that is, the feeling of being not quite real, overshadowed by and compared to those around you. But this song did for me. In fact-earlier this month I wrote a poem about it...

So, here is my

Almost Real

Almost real... What a feeling
Or, more like a dream
It's silently wishing
When you want to scream
And I didn't expect
To find my story
Or someone to connect
In that girl from Napoli
But I listened to her voice
And I watched her sing
And it wasn't my choice
But I knew she was me!
I was myself mirrored
In the story she sang
And saw myself clearer
In that tragic refrain
Almost real- when you live in shadows
And never can compete
When your friends are all heroes
And you're the deadbeat
You feel like you don't matter
And you have to run away
Before they see you shatter
There has to be some place
Where you won't be compared
To them, you can just feel
But it's too far to get there,
To the dream of being real...
And, forced to doubt yourself
By the superior types
You don't look for help
Of any meaningful kind
Because those closest to you
Somehow make you feel small
Like you could disappear
And they wouldn't notice at all
And so I understand 'Cesca
And so I want to sing
Her song of Italia
Because it's also of me!
And I know the desire,
The horrible need, to feel
Like you're significant:
To be almost real


Yeah. Wow, that's long. But it's how I feel, more often than I'd like. And why this song is everything to me.

Plus, also, it's basically perfect.

I Wrote a Thing... :]

THE FIRST PAGE

     When I open up a book and I flip through the pages, I get to know its weight and its feel and I dive in, reading myself into a new world. Often, I find myself falling in love with a character, wishing I could write him out of the book into reality... Rarely, I fall in love with a book itself, and every time I pick it up, it's like greeting a long-lost friend.

     And sometimes, I will fall in love with a book on the very first page. There's only one thing that causes this: writing that is artwork, beautiful and perfect- well, not perfect, because art is not meant to be perfect but meant to make you feel something- writing that wraps around my soul, fills the crevices in my heart, fills me with emotion, takes my breath away.

     I fell in love with you on the first page. Whoever wrote you knew what they were doing when they put that sparkle in your sky blue eyes, when they wrote music into your voice, when they gave a sense of humour to the most intelligent, passionate person I'd ever met. Whoever wrote you made an absolute masterpiece out of what could have been another awkward teenager, but instead turned out to be a piece of solid ground for two years of my life, a safe place when I was shattered, a perfect understanding when I needed it, a hand in mine.

     I fell in love with you on the first page, when I saw how loyal and dependable you were to your friends, how quick to defend the ones you love. When I saw how excited you get about the details in a book or a movie, how you notice all the little things about places and people. When I heard you talking about music, and I knew your heart would understand mine. Yes, with you, I fell in love on the first page.

     And some books, I find myself being drawn into, slowly, inexorably, until- something snaps. It may be that the author breaks the laws of their own universe, or writes an ending that, however critically acclaimed, I find disappointing or upsetting in all the wrong ways, or they ruin a character. Books like that, I never pick up again. I was afraid you would become one of those- but whoever wrote you knew what they were doing. Yes, you had flaws and failings, but doesn't every hero? Whoever wrote you knew that it's ok for a person to be angry or make mistakes, but they knew that you can always become a better person. And so, you drew me in, farther and farther- and you never broke the laws of your own universe.

     I fell in love with you on the first page, and I couldn't help hoping you'd be like one of those books that I keep around forever, that's always there on my shelf, the book that knows my soul because I've screamed and thrown things and cried and laughed and celebrated over its pages, the books that mean more to me than almost anything in the world. And whoever wrote you know what they were doing, because for a while, you were. You cheered for my accomplishments and held me when I cried and you made me laugh, all the time you were there. Yes, you were one of the books I could keep around forever, and I fell in love with you on the first page.

      Books like that, though, are the most exquisite kind of torture, because, despite how wonderful they are, there are moments when they tear me to pieces, or break my heart. And with some, I end up sobbing... But they're so beautiful, all the moments of despair combined with those of elation. You were one of those. I fell in love with you on the first page, but there were moments when I thought you'd never see me the way I saw you, the times I encouraged you with other people because they made you happy, the times when I just held my feelings in, and it all just broke my heart. And there were times my heart broke for you, when you argued with your parents, couldn't help a friend, didn't know what to do. But whoever wrote you knew what they were doing, because with all that, they wrote the golden moments that made it all worth it, all the laughter and carefree easiness, the times you said you didn't know what you'd do without me, the beautiful friendship we had... And it eventually developed into something more, and for a little while it wasn't your story or my story, it was our story. But then... It had to come to an end, and that was when I ended up sobbing, even though I'd fallen in love with you on the first page.

     There are books that I read once, and I love them, but I never find them again. They lurk in the shadows of my memory, bringing sorrow because I've lost them forever. After our story ended, I was afraid you'd become one of those, and it just seemed like a waste of such a friendship, an absolute tragedy, especially since I'd fallen in love on the first page.

     But whoever wrote you knew what they were doing, because that didn't happen. Instead, you became the well-loved book that I rediscover every once in a while, taking it out and turning the pages, reliving the adventures- even the parts that broke my heart- through a haze of happiness, because all ends well. It's not our story anymore, but my story and your story still meet sometimes, and so the memories are cherished. You're the well-loved, old friend of a book who I only read every once in a while, and that is alright. Yes, whoever wrote you knew what they were doing.

      And so, I fell in love with you on the first page.

     But that was a long time ago. :]

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yep. That's a thing I wrote. It's about Tak and me. And basically, that is the progression of our relationship, from friends to more and back to friends, and how I feel about it. It's all good. Life is chill, and everything in that arena is alright. :]

This Is Going Well...

Today was... A day.

I'm in the big choir at my school, and we're leaving on Wednesday for a competition in Orlando, Florida. 

We'll also be doing an exchange concert at Stetson University, 

eating dinner at Medieval Times, 

going to Universal Studios with a parkhopper pass to include Islands of Adventure 

AND The Wizarding World Of Harry Potter, 

Kennedy Space Center,

Cocoa Beach and Ron Jon's, 

and Disneyworld, with parkhopper passes to include the Animal Kingdom 

and Epcot. It's gonna be pretty cool!

Also, Elsa and Anna will be in Switzerland every two hours... :D

However, as a choir, I don't feel like we're ready for this competition... It's gonna be sort of an adventure.

But this is about today in my choir class. My teacher basically lectured the alto section (my section) about the "power struggle" we're apparently having and over-singing and how no one person can carry the section and it has to be a team effort, and that we better figure ourselves out. She also said that she wouldn't single anyone out in front of the choir, but she WOULD set up a meeting at a later date with the offending student(s) and their parents.

 Pause.

 Maybe this doesn't seem like a big deal, but to me it was 

HUGE.

Music means more to me than almost anything in the world, and I take it very seriously. And my director's comments worry me because I am LOUD. And I know that. And I know that sometimes I have a problem with oversinging... But I work very hard not to, and I don't think I have been... But I can't always tell.

And according to our director, there's also animosity in the also section, and that shows in the way we sing... I guess we all secretly hate each other or something? I dunno... It bums me out, because I honestly like all the girls in my section- they're AWESOME.

But, the thing is, I've already had problems this year... Been called into the director's office once and lectured... I left in tears. It was pretty stupid actually, a misunderstanding with my section leaders that they felt they needed to talk to our director about instead of resolving it with me.

So I'm worried that our director thinks I want to be section leader, and I don't respect my section leaders, and that I oversing. I'm worried I'm one of the problems in my section. And that TERRIFIES me. And I left that class this afternoon almost in tears, because I'm that worried.

And this was all compounded by show choir rehearsal this afternoon. She was getting on a group of us for singing a note wrong, and the whole time she was staring directly at me, because I was wrong two weeks ago. But I've fixed it! And I know I'm singing it right!

So I think I'm on the Bad List this year, and I'm so worried... Because she's kicked people out of choir before... And it would absolutely devestate me if that happened. Eeek.

On the plus side, Florida! ... Ha. :/

Music Is Lovely

I basically just keep listening to four songs on repeat, and they are my life right now.

Say Something, by A Great Big World,

(although I don't particularly care for her in this song, I love the harmonies)

AND I really LOVE the Pentatonix cover.

Laughter, by AcoustiMandoBrony.

Alone, by Hirosashii.

Invisible, by Hunter Hayes.

Two really sad songs, and two that are optimistic and heal my hurting soul a little bit. But I'm still having a rough go of it.

And that is my contribution for today.

My Demons Are Coming Out To Play

So I had a lovely moment today.

I got in an argument with my mom, about something I forgot to do, and basically, I shouted that I felt like she was saying I was a slacker, the worst person ever, I can't do anything right, I'm just so awful.

And then she got more upset at me, shouting that she didn't appreciate me saying that, that it made her feel awful that I felt like my mother would automatically assume those things about me.

So, of course, I felt even worse.

And later, we apologised and hugged, and my mom reiterated her point again, asking me not to jump to conclusions about what she thinks, because she doesn't. And I almost started to cry.

Because I said all those things because that's how I felt. That's pretty much how I feel about myself right now. Everything is stacking up on me and just POURING rain. And it's awful.

This week is not really working out for me.



P.S. Dear non-existent readers, I'm sorry. This blog isn't really meant to be a vent fest... It's just somewhere to get my head in order. And this week, that means a vent fest.

Things Aren't Getting Better?

This year. This freaking year. I just don't know what to do with it.

I think the only positive things have been my family and the Gospel. Which, are aboslutely incredible and I am SOOO grateful for them!

But today I'm gonna have a pity party. Because today this is what's happening.

So, this post? Taking Things Personally? I wrote it a bit ago about this school year and how basically I just feel like no one needs me or even wants me around... But maybe I'm overreacting and taking everything personally?

Well. I just feel like junk. Because this is still going on. I'm everyone's last choice. Our choir is going on another trip, we have to set up rooms for it, and again, no one thought of me. Some of the people I'd call my best friends, and they don't think to ask if I'd like to room with them. One friend of mine was bemoaning her lack of a room, because someone else reneged on a promise, and I said, "You could room with me!" and three seconds later, she was saying, "I don't have a room, oh, what to do, woe is me!"

THAT HURT, OK??? And maybe it seems like I'm overreacting but I don't feel like it. Because this is this whole year for me.

I'm always left out.
I'm always asking, "What's going on? What's exciting?"
I'm not anyone's first choice.

And on most days, like today, I feel like no one cares about me.

No one would notice
                                      if
                                            I
                                                  was...
                                                                gone.

And for the girl who loves people, who wants to help everyone, who craves friendship and companionship and love, that hurts.

This year is killing me, little by little.

Hopefully next year will be better.... :(