I promised more on my life-changing camp, however, so much more started to change my life.
Junior year has been rough in ways I expected:
Zero to four AP courses, college, more boys, auditions, getting a job
And very, very rough in ways I could never imagine.
To truly care about somebody is always strange because it tends to always be conditional (especially when the love isn't returned). "Yes, I love him, but if he asked me out I would say yes." Well, I'm calling bullshit. Bullshit on life, on relationships, even on emotion as of now. Though I hate to say so, just because you get older doesn't mean you leave the problems your younger self had behind. Just because you get stronger, you will not be unbreakable. And that's the way it is.
I have had the worst autumn of my life, mostly because I have been so aware of how awful it has been. I won't go listing reasons, but I shall list what I learned.
Your best friends may not stay the best.
Money trouble is unavoidable, but it's something you need to face up front.
Just because you love a person so much does not mean said person will love you back.
Being self-pitying sucks.
Putting a strong face forward can achieve things.
Accepting only the good and not the bad in people doesn't usually work out. It's all or nothing.
Never assume people have feelings for you.
I find myself questioning why so much has been laid down on me all at once. I pray, tears on my face, on my knees beside my bed and ask what will happen, why must you do this, what is it for, give me strength, I want to move on. Sometimes I feel happier inside afterwards, but since relationships with people are what have truly been testing me, all it takes is for me to a see a couple together, a person's face, a text message, a tweet, a gift given to me in the past to make me vomit. And that's not fair. That's not fair at all.
If someone I knew read this blog, they might have no idea where any of it was coming from. Well, see, I have friends who tell me my face is like an open book, that I can be read easily. I beg to differ. Sometimes you need to hide your anger, your mistrust, your fire and your fury from people, so that they can stay happy, so that they see you as happy. And so I have, from many people. I have vocalized my complaints, but they see no raw hurt from me. They see no grief. I am a supreme actor. And so I have kept many of my friends.
But God, all the stupidity that has gone into my life. One hope destroyed one after another, and what for? What dirty misdeeds have I committed to deserve such a loud voice in my temples crying syllables of anguish and anxiety, fretting not only over the pain of being disregarded by boys she's cared for, boys who find happiness in other eyes, but for the unwritten essay, the unsung song, every attempt she has made at success that has failed?
Well, I'll tell you.
Insight.
I learned how to write. How to write with such vigor words begin to pour out of the pen like blood out of a chest wound, in rivulets and tears and then finally such unguarded rivers that every dam in the world ever made may be broken.
I learned how to strive. How to rush at a goal with passion unbeknownst to man and also how to move it forward with terrifying measures of equal doubt and assurance. How to strive untilsomething is beautiful.
I learned how to laugh. Not only how to laugh; how to laugh in the face of the Devil himself. How to allow an aura of tolerance in order to fight the evil that is misinterpretation and temptation and hate.
And finally, I learned what I need.
I need to work. Put in the time. I need to focus. Zero in on my target. I need to sing, for singing solves many of my problems.
I need to stop falling for people in minuscule instances that warp my brain and leave me for dead eight months later.
I need to stop putting my faith in people who do not care for me and instead put my faith in God and in myself. Because that is how one learns to survive.
And lastly, I have learned I need to write. The nightmares I faced for so long have turned into snow. Flurries and patches that provide cold peace from the hot pain I felt before. Catharsis in words, snowy white wings that can carry me farther away from stupidity and closer to the sun. The sweet, sweet golden sun. I find myself swaying as I write as if to music . . . and I realize that this is often times my music. I found myself unable to write in the dark; so I sure as hell will write in the day.
