Me Too

Have you ever had something in your life that seemed absolutely tragic, and when you tell someone about it, they just think you're overreacting, and then you actually start to have doubts about your mental state and whether you're freaking out about nothing or if you really should be worrying?

Yeah. Me too.

The Cold

It was about a month and a half ago. We arrived at the school from a weekend field trip at about 10:00 p.m. and were waiting for out parents to come pick us up. I was cold. He could probably tell by my excessive shivering and teeth chattering. I stood there holding my arms together and rubbing them as if it would get rid of the goosebumps. He studied me. I'm sure I was a pathetic sight, but I tried not to think about it. I hummed a song to myself as teenagers scuffled around me. I looked over at him and my face twisted into a forced half-smile before my teeth started chattering again. The next thing I knew, his arms were wrapped around my shoulders. I kept my arms crossed and stood stiffly. But for a moment I relaxed and leaned my head against his chest. There were no thoughts running through my head, I just felt warm. Once my brain started to work again, I quickly pulled away. His parents came and picked him up. I felt colder than before.

Parades

My nerd herd was supposed to go see the Summerfest parade. Half the nerd herd didn't show up, but Ally and Sam and some of Ally's Maeser friends had been hanging out together all day and they came. Those four do a lot together. They're a parade all their own. But I'm never invited because they know I don't like pranking people, which is pretty much all of what they do. Even though most of the time I wouldn't go with them, I guess it would just be nice to be invited now and then.

We watched the parade on the sidewalk in the freezing cold wind. We scrambled for candy on the road and huddled in a Snuggie while we waited for more. It lasted about an hour. I was proud that Timpanogos High had the longest procession.
Afterward we decided to just go home instead of going to the park. We ate a late-night snack at Ally's and everyone said they wanted to go doorbell ditching. I said I wanted to go home. I walked away by myself.

The only nerd herd member that was there tried to follow me. I guess he just wanted to talk. I wanted to be alone. He persisted.
We shared a lot of deep thoughts and feelings. I said a few things I hoped he would really put some thought into. Others I was mostly talking to myself. I felt exposed, like he could see inside me but at the same time he didn't understand. I had a hard time expressing what I had to say.
I told him he needed to go back with the others. He asked for a hug, but I wouldn't give him one. I started my walk home, not even knowing if I would ever see him again. It felt colder now that I was alone, but I also felt more relaxed, no longer feeling like someone was trying to read the fine print written on my eyes. Only once did I look back to see if I could see him walking away. All I saw was empty sidewalk and the lit-up street lamps. He was gone.

This Summer

I've been busy so far this summer. I've been practice driving in the Timp parking lot and hanging out with family and catching up with old friends. In my spare time I've been taking naps with my dog and reading and watching chick flicks. Last summer I wasted a lot of time. I don't want to waste time this summer. Even when I don't have anything exciting going on, I want to be out taking a walk in the sun or devouring a cheesy teen novel. That's what summers are for. At least, for me, it's taking a break from the stress and giving yourself time to see the beautiful things in life and just slowly taking it in during these three months. And even though I don't have any money to go to Summerfest or to the pool or to Jamba Juice this summer, I have a feeling it's going to be better than a lot of the summers before.

The Search

Kayla and I took Andrea to the park. I showed Andrea how to go down the slide and play with the playground toys. We visited the giant pine tree I used to climb. We sat on the hill in our sunglasses and marveled at how fast the grass turned that wonderful shade of green. Once it started sprinkling we went back to Kayla's house.
After a while we put Andrea down to bed and Kayla and I watched a chick flick she had recorded on TV. When it was time to go, I reached in my pocket to get my iPod and cue up a good song to play in the car. All I felt was the cold bumpy surfaces of coins and the fabric of my pants. I looked down at the couch. No iPod. I looked in the cracks of the cushions. No iPod. Kayla helped me. We looked under the cushions, behind the pillows, under the couch, under the rug, on the counter, in the bedroom, on the floor, on the bookshelf, on the sewing desk, under the oven, everywhere. No iPod.
We went back to the park. We kicked around woodchips while we scanned the entire playground. We looked under the tree and on the hill and in the grass. No iPod. We surrendered and got in the car so Kayla could take me home. I swear the entire car ride I couldn't breathe.

When I got home I went straight to bed. Without my iPod playing in my iHome, all I could hear was the constant loud hum of Mom's oxygen machine upstairs. I cried.

Truthfully Imperfect

Sometimes when I stalk read the blogs on my blog list, I can't help but be slightly disturbed. Not with the blogs, but with myself. Because I too often find myself thinking, If everyone else's life is perfect, why isn't mine? I see pictures and read words of people going on adventures and working on projects and being so happy. But I realize that their lives aren't perfect, they just write about the good stuff. They're all humans just like me.
I guess my blog can be kind of negative sometimes because it's basically how I vent, but negative or not, I hope that it paints a picture of me. A real one without any fluff. One that says that my life definitely isn't perfect and I have a lot of trials, but there are still many happy moments and many lessons learned.