senior

a full week now i have been a senior in college. the campus is filled with unfamilliar faces of freshmen, memories and more adventures to come. i'd be lying if i said i was cool with all this senior business. it freaks me out. being a senior in high school i was eager to leave a place i didnt fit in to the new land of bellingham. now i find myself having to come to terms with leaving bellingham at the end of this year and behind me the daily friendships i have formed over 4 years.

the whole nature of college is really unique and i am so fortunate to have had the experience i do going to a university. when else during your life will you be placed in a place tentatively among peers, eager and ambitious to learn!? very few opportunities from now on will present themselves where i will be in such a community.

inside that community i am one person. i walk by hundreds of people a day all on their own journey in life and i start to second guess my own intentions. am i who i want to be or how i want people to see me? should others opinions even matter with 9 months left?

in 9 months i still want to be:
- engaged in the community
-creating my own identity as a human services professional
-surrounded my people who take, give, love, advise, support and make me laugh
-letting go of grudges and people who bring out my insecurities and if my weakness' present themselves, i deal with them and grace and maturity not jealous and self-righteousness.
-with a partner who pushes me to live my dreams
-traveling
-still playing my guitar
-reading more
-working in an art studio
-dressing more like me

i just got overwhelmed writing this. i cant put into words my excitement and nervousness and the secrets i keep to myself. to be continued.

something i can call mine

a little bit frustrated and my carpool for work should be here any minute, naturally a really big thought would cross my mind.

i need something to call mine.

my own. a voyage. an idea. 

without anyone leading me to it or no one else going there after me. 

i wouldn't want it to be a secret but by all things my second grade copy cat friend taught me, no matter what you tell or dont tell people find out.

its human nature and the biggest compliment to grab pieces of your friends out of love and comfort. 

i'll tell you from the top of my head

out of my friends,

i steal ang's ablility to be headstrong and forward

i steal kaylas way of nuturing and caring for others

and because i want this list to stay small ( i gotta keep some of my sources hidden (; )

i steal my moms way of approaching life, straying away from "poor me feelings" and "embracing if you can't change the situation change your attitude"

taking pieces of peoples identity inevitable for humans. we are "monkey see mokey do-ers" and whether we like to admit it or realize it, other people form who we are as individuals.

so where does individuality begin?

no one will live the life i live.

no one meet the people i have met in life in the order i have met them and under what circumstance we met.

individuality is built to be sacred yet secured to allow you to create yourself by embracing what others show and teach you.

no one can take that away from you.

while i long for something to call mine, i must give credit when credit is due.

someone got me here, someone gave me the nudge, whisper or support to get me where i am.

a solo traveler gets lonely at the top.

it is through community where we since our belonging. 

my thoughts on fire

in high school my quote for myself (c'mon, we all had them) was "the heart may freeze or it can burn", from "another day", a song in the musical "rent".

i came to the mentality that my passion would be approached head on, burning so everyone could see; because if i did nothing with it, surely, i would freeze into nothing. i loved with intention and because of that my choices had purpose, guiding me to my next goal or thought, and i'd strive to reach my dreams.

i was an ambitious little one in high school. i lacked to connect with my class as a whole, which made me an outsider. not in a nerdy or weirdo way was i an outsider, in fact i was friends with everyone. i just knew something was missing and i didn't rely on my high school experience to give it to me. my fire burned for me because i knew eventually, i would get to a place where it needed to me. until then i occupied myself with whatever activity i could, met lots of unique people, got to know my community and took advantage of experiences i knew i wouldn't be able to have again.

i fear fire. i am now at that place where i have found a sense of belonging. my relationships are long and lasting. my work is thoughtful and passionate. why am i doubting my fire?

breaking it down as much as a i can; i think of the best days at the beach watching the bonfire burn.

it starts with foundation, logs, kindling, paper.

light a match and watch it burn.

colors of yellow, orange, red and blue shine from the flames.

the more logs, the higher it burns, 

we let the fire burn until it dims low and add more fuel to the fire to it until we see the beautiful colors again.

you could let a fire burn forever but realistically, the flames dimmer into little sparks into the dark of night.

the mysterious fire is gone.

let behind is soot. the foundation is burnt to its core. 

we cover whats left with sand and water and let the fire die.

metaphor time.

i'm scared. freaking scared of loosing my fire, my passion. 

i've build a comfortable foundation or dreams, people and places that have kept me comfortable.

come june, what will i be? where will you be?

i burn bright for creativity.

i burn bright for spontaneity. 

i burn bright for laughter.

you remind me to stay in the moment. using my own words against me when i stray away from my motto.

i can't help to think about all of these remarkable moments leading to ash and dust.

now my new song motto from the Boss himself:  "you can't start a fire without a spark"

nothing big happens without a moment of realization, a small idea, that essentially you can't take your mind off of.

i can't get my mind off of you.

(of course you would call after i type that)

without sounding completely naive, my heart needs the spark of another to make something happen.

consistently, you are that person.

with that you carry the potential to set my heart on fire or watch it burn to nothing. 

what shape will my heart be in when we leave this town?

i long and despise to know that answer.

fearlessly, now i must carry on with an abundance of fire, letting it burn bright.

for even if it were to leave, i imagine there would still be a spark.

when you meet the eyes of a stranger

when it happened:  mid day. thursday afternoon. casual friend date.

but first, the back story:
awhile back i was in a friendship with an older man. he thought i was so cool and him thinking i was so cool made me think he was so cool. drummer, teacher, hipster. sounds like a dream come true. the age thing wasn't a big deal until it was a big deal. ultimately, our friendship ended on our sour note. he said he had another in the same breath he told me i was beautiful and wonderful. i got confused and really hurt.
that moment began the hatred of "she who shall not be named", mostly because i didn't know her name or anything about her. all i knew was that she was better than me.
my age showed in my immaturity about "her". the moment facebook alerted me that they were dating, i first grumbeled then went straight to her page. what does she look like? what makes her better than me?
all i could tell was that she had the same blue eyes and blonde hair that i did.
she took mischievous  pictures of herself behind artwork and plants, which never helped me decipher what she really looks like and kind of makes her sound freakin' weird. after that all i really knew was a name, which didn't help my grieving or creeping process.
let that one go.

32 year old (yes, 32 year old) teacher hipster, musician was far from my mind. essentially, i am  relieved that i didn't get into that mess. never saw him again.

flash forward to today:
i had my first day of work! we'll actually i was at my internship before then went to work. the sun was so beautiful today. i walked to work and walked around downtown after work with Paige, who long story short has a lot more in common with me than i thought. anyways, parched and up for catching up, we ventured into avenue bread. drooled over some pastries then upon deciding to purchase a treat each with our hibiscus lemonade.

then i met eyes with the mystery.
in front of me, his new girl.
taking my order?
my order use to be the dream of having her current boyfriend.
i wondered if he'd even mention me.
i handed her my credit card and wondered if she'd recognize my name.
she was taller. friendly, like most food service employees.
i wrote my name visable. one more chance to see if she'd realize who i was.
i so badly wanted to make awkward eye contact.
i was the other girl.
she was the other girl.
one of us had to get hurt.
i thanked her for my treat and looked at her one more time.
blonde blue and young.
ordinary.

i walked away, sat down, and couldn't wait to tell Paige the story.
but what story was there to tell?
i left no tip.

my favorite sonnet of all time

i find myself getting these words stuck in my head more often than "moves like jagger" or "call me maybe". maybe it is because these words i have ingrained in my brain because of my sophomore high school drama class. little lines pop into my head when i need them. 

SONNET 116

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
   If this be error and upon me proved,
   I never writ, nor no man ever loved. 




so many ideas in this short sonnet( yes, it was the shortest one to choose from in my drama class, thus i dibbsed it QUICK.). i don't want this blog to be purely about love but i do want to recognize my thoughts as they come and make note of concepts that reappear. 
to me this sonnet not only reminds us of the intentions of love, but  allows us to question which parts of loving another we choose to embrace.


love doesn't leave when there are changes in relationships nor does it leave when you change your passions. it remains. you take risks not knowing consequences or potential destinations because love can conquer all. this sonnet reminds us of wedding vows "'until death do us part", but suggests marriage does not acknowledge a true love.


what i often repeat in my head is the last two lines. "if this be error and upon me proved, i never writ nor no man ever loved". this merely suggests " well shoot, if what i'm writing is wrong, why do poets and writers  continually write of love. it is impossible to say love doesn't exist."


love exists. 

a few of my favorite things

sexy musicians, especially when its your boyfriend. (;

teaching Yalena about music

my major

my mom: for putting up with me and for being young at heart

little sister; who will always be the little girl who couldn't say her r's to me

FRIEND DATES!

b.walk

K; my fav clarabelle; and i guess bently too.

pusz pusz

the fact that this happened

pusz pusz...again.

look,  he's sweepin' (:

guitar time

oh shoot 3rd pusz pic.

can't.

delete.

so.

CUTE.

J's imagination

dog paws.

to have and to hold

it doesn't take much to make me realize who i need in my life. brief encounters, witty comments, and long glances confirm my relationships. i forget to remind myself where all my relationships started but i've found that most start with something simple. saying what you mean, showing that you care, laughing at each others jokes.

in regards to love, i beg to differ with anyone suggests that love comes with time. i think love always exists. its limitless. the complexity to which we love reacts among the triggers of our needs. for me passion, consistency, friendship and communication. passion so often is partnered with romance however, in each relationship passion is presented by vulnerabilities by each self to share. i've loved when my girlfriends share their trials and tribulations through tears streaming down their face. those are the moments i feel love. when i can stare into another's eyes in silence, i can feel love. words aren't love. words can't suffice to what love is.


love is leaving.
love is returning.
love is.


recently, i read "bloom" by: kelle hampton. in it she says:


"once it's just not you anymore....we'll you automatically carry around, for the rest of your life, an increased likelihood of having your heart broken. And it's a constant fear that we struggle to put to rest. We can choose to be afraid or we can choose to live. And I choose to live. Because an increased likelihood of having your heart broken also carries with it an increased likelihood of finding yourself the happiest you've ever been in life."


i love taking risks. mixing up a combination of activities. making my life way busier than it should be. testing how far i can go. proving people wrong. 


but my heart...


my heart plays it safe. she lets some people in. she knows who will bring heartache. usually she gets it right and i don't have to risk much. however, she has yet to differentiate between those who will inevitably be apart of my life and love me something fierce, but carry with them the potential to break my heart.


as kelle would say: "I choose to live."


moment by moment. second by second. breath by breath.


how else can you get through life alive?


as one of my favorite presidents would say "the only thing we have to fear is fear itself."
as one of my childhood role models mrs. frizzle would say: "take chances, make mistakes, get messy."


is the fear of striking out permitting from playing this marvelous game?


i choose to live.


with the chance i may have to revisit heartbroken sobs.
with the mentality that moments are the essence of my existence. 
with the potential to love without limits.
with the realization that no day is promised.
with an open heart and open arms.
with the strength to keep going. 
ignoring the thought in the back in my mind chanting "people always leave".
ignoring time and it's overstayed welcome that brings doubt in my mind.
life is too short to worry.


i choose to live.

what worries you

life is temporary.

don't be in pain.

there is no reason to fret.

don't waste a day.

tell those you love the truth.

have no regrets.

live each day like the ones

you never want to forget.

if you're reading this, remember you are loved.
don't ask for better when better is beside you. 
    appreciate what you have while you have it.
    handle each lesson you are given.
    you are strong, you are capable, you are lucky.
    take nothing for granted.
    
   when all is said and done, how do you want your life to be talked about?

let's talk about men

I guess it begins with David. 


My dad was the best dad ever.
He took on the role like a champ. Two daughters can be a handful but two daughters who are intrigued by everything and involved in everything sounds impossible. My dad was in the stands at my basketball games correcting papers. We could find him setting up a tether ball pole, he made himself on the side of our house. He was the first to acknowledge and embrace my artsy side. I remember sitting at our piano when I was about 5 years old, and plunking out songs by ear-- I was enrolled in piano lessons shortly after. He was the first to help me run lines for the first plays I was in. I use to listen to him play guitar for hours. He'd let me strum while he played the chords. He helped me write. Young Authors Conferences that came annually meant quality father daughter time revising my stories like "David Meets the Moon" after dinner. My dad had time for me and took time for me, no questions asked he was there. 


While, the memories I have about my dad are many and detailed, our time together was short lived.


He's been gone for almost 10 years, which still breaks my heart everyday. While his presence is gone, so much of my live revolves around him.


So lets talk about men. 


Ever since my dad died, I have had to reteach myself how to interact with men. I don't have a dad to protect me from all the crazy boys who find their way to my door. I don't have a daily reminder of what its like to live with a man. I've been confused multiple times whether I shake hands or give hugs to men I see it stores. I know that I can do either but its the essence of wondering what my dad would have done. How do I approach a man? I think this has made me come off a lot more timid than I am.I am assertive when I need to be but is this how was suppose to be? How different would I be if my dad was still here teaching me how to interact with guys?


The last advice my dad ever gave me about boys was "Moll don't get a boyfriend. Let boys take you out to dinner, the movies, or get to know you.--be the cool girl everyone gets to know". If my dad would still be alive, I probably could have been more of that girl. After he died, having someone around consistently didn't sound bad, because I had lost male presence in my life. Naturally the first boy I dated after my dad died was a complete jerk who took advantage of me and when all I wanted was company, he wanted so much more. Glad I got one bad one out of the way because the rest have really challenged me, in a good way. Each boyfriend since the awful dreaded, "lessoned learned" jerk face has had great influence in my life. 


Still when dealing with boyfriends, I have this intuition that they will leave. I've worked on not letting this drive me crazy or drive people away but ultimately, I don't think anyone will understand where I am coming from. There is something about seeing red lights outside your house on a Thursday morning, hearing the news "Your dad isn't coming home" and thinking back to the promises he made. He said that he'd always be around, but he's not. There is something to be said about that pain and it will be with me forever. And its created a guard. I have to be wary about everyone I meet, because even the biggest promises are broken by the people you love most.


I remember screaming "Who's going to walk me down the aisle!!!" and my grandpa whimpering at my side, holding me tight and crying in my ear "I'll do it Moll, I'll do it." Now he's gone too. This past September, I lost the second most influential man in my life, Papa. I am lucky that  grandpa lived down the block from me my whole life. He was a lot like my dad but he had a rougher side to him. "I graduated last in my class" was what he constantly reminded us, as a joke. He was proud of me for taking pride in my education. In reality, Papa is the most educated man in my family. Being a garbage man for 30+ years, he's literally been around the block a few times. My Papa taught me about people, which I have found gets you a lot farther than you may think. He would ride his bike around town, waving at everyone knew, which was pretty much everyone. It was no shock that at his funeral the line to get in stretched around the block.  I miss him.


So I have this distorted view of men and the consistency in which they are in my life and the quality of the relationships I have with them. No one will ever be like my dad and  no one will ever be like my Papa. Special places in my heart have been left and filled by those two. I won't have another dad or another grandpa ever again. 


I do however have some great men in my life.

Each of them have their quirks. Pieces of them remind me of my dad. They all  have an attribute I want in a man.

Uncle Brian is a rocker. He's who I can go to jam out and write songs with. When the songs start to sound a little bit familiar, hes the first to ask me if everything is ok. He has a soft side. Never had a child of his own, he see's me as a daughter. He loves his sisters and still acts like the annoying baby brother to them. It's comfortable and familiar whenever Uncle Brian is around.


Uncle Elvisy, my god father and my dad's best friend, has small but important role in my life. He's not someone I know very well, or see often but he knows my dad best out of any of the men in my life. He had always sent me chocolate on Valentines Day, but since my dad died those packages mean so much more. Its just nice to know there is someone out there that makes a yearly gesture. I can count on an Elvis box filled with chocolate. He also attended all the most important events in my life so far (that's us at my HS graduation to the left). He came down for my plays in high school, which really meant a lot to me. Everyone knew he was there because he has a shrilling whistle that you can't miss. Uncle Elvisy supports me.


Bill. There is something about Bill that reminds me so clearly of my dad. He has the passion for life my dad had but he also has the deep breaths my dad had. Those same deep breaths represent the childhood my dad and Bill shared. They grew up with money but overtime both of them realized money can't buy happiness, in fact money can make you mad. I don't see Bill as a symbol of money and partly because I've known him since I was 5. I see him as a person instead of a name. With Bill, I have to listen closely and carefully to his words. A man of few words but he says so much. He constructs his words to the point. I appreciate Bill because he's a planner and he values quality. He likes to reminisce about the past, but when he does that I know its his way of saying how proud he is of the woman I've grown up to be.




Curtis. The brother I never had and the first to beat up anyone who does me wrong. Close enough in age to be friends to far enough away where the big brother comes out in him... often.  I value Curtis' character because he lives life. While he's not a planner but he's one of the biggest dreamers I know. He reminds me to never give up and its ok to ask for help.


Jim. Last but not least. Never would I have thought that Jim would make my list of surrogate fathers, but lo and behold, 9 years last I finally appreciate Jim. I don't want to go all in the trials and tribulations that surround my relationship with Jim (that's a whole different story), right now I just want to embrace that I overcame a lot to accept him in my life and I'm glad I did so. Jim is smart. Book smart. Technology smart. He hasn't done everything right in his life, but he strives to do good. I respect that. I took his consistency in my life for granted. I now realize how much time he put in, wanting to get to know me where I wouldn't give him the time of day. He believed in me when I didn't believe in him or even myself. Those are the best kind of people to keep in your life. I'm glad he's in my life.






I'm lucky to have these men in my life. 

pictures

 They say a picture speaks a thousand words and I can't disagree with that. A picture captures a moment in time and leaves with you a reminder of your past. Memories are so much more than just a moment captured on film. One picture may ignite feelings and other may ignite pain. Some pictures you can push away and never look at again. However, when it lands itself back in your hands, how will you feel? Would you want those moments back? Would you realize that the people in the pictures are the people you need now?   Pictures are reminders of what once was real and valid which however for most of the time, in present day is not.


That can be painful.

When they are your pictures, the ones you shot from your lens, you see everything around you not just what is being captured. This one to the left I remember driving all around town until we found the perfect spot to take a picture with the sunset, only to realize the sun was going down soon. Also I remember how badly my heels were killing be, and thinking to myself "Shoot, I have to wear these in a play?" I remember my friends and while most of us were coupled off, I remember our friendship with one another. There was an innocence that I remember, and when I look at this picture now, sometimes I wish I had that innocence back.



In this picture I remember it was our last night together as a class for Senior Sunset. While it looks like the three of us are just taking pictures in a parking lot, our whole class was watching on the left side of me. It smelt like cigarettes and swishers, because the boys in my class decided to celebrate the night before graduation. It was the last time all of us were together as kids. I remember thinking that I had to take a picture so I wouldn't forget. This picture didn't even capture what I felt that night. I have the rest in my head.        
                                                        So what if the picture that lands itself in your hands,  isn't your memory?  I remember looking through my moms old yearbooks and wishing I had been there. There was no possible way I could have been in high school in the 1970's let alone with my mother, but they always looked like they were having so much fun. The traditions were so different and by different I mean better than the ones I remembered having in high school. Cause isn't that really how it goes? If you're not apart of that moment, you automatically think that was the best moment in someones life and if you weren't there in that special moment, then you are somehow less special to that person? Train your mind to say no, no, no. My mom's high school experience couldn't have been mine and mine couldn't have been hers. I bet there are pieces of my high school experience that my mom wishes she could have had too. We are so silly wanting to be in places where we couldn't have been because most of the time there are people who want to be right where we are now. If you hadn't met someone yet, you're not living your life with them in mind. You're living in your moment and eventually all your moments would lead you to new found friendships. And in those new found friendships, you talk about your past.


The past is tricky. You can't deny it was there but you also can't live in that place. Life is made in forward motion. So what do you do with the pictures?                                             

You appreciate. You remember. You keep going.         

 

Appreciate that the past exists. Dang right, I've lived a good life! I hope the people I meet have lived a good life too. Maybe I'm not in their memories for now, but you bet I am going to be in the future. 

Life is precious. 

Be in every moment.

quality

My best conversations happen after the clock strikes 12. There is something about being in the dark that brings out vulnerabilities, insecurities and thoughts that in the daylight are too "dangerous". My mind devotes this time to dreaming, even before my sleeping dreams occur. What do I want to do with my life? Who will remain consistently by my side? Will I get the cottage I've always dreamed of? Will I find a partner that will support me through my dreams? Will I have a girl will long blonde hair that calls me mom? Will I make it to my destinations?


Lately I've when these thoughts start bubbling around in the evening, I've had my boyfriend by my side. I look at him in the dark and sometimes our eyes meet. We don't have to say anything but I know he'll always be there for me. My night time questions now somewhat revolve around him. Will  he find a place in my life? If his place is temporary can I deal with him not being around?


Right now my answer is absolutely not. I can't even grasp what we have in my hands yet because its so big yet so fragile, I'm afraid to hold to too close. Last night, he brought up that most of his relationships have been short, 4-5 months, and he expressed that he gets fidgety after those months.My mind went straight to heartbreak. "Great, I found someone who has our relationship tipped over, on an hour class, my time is running out." 


Internal freak out.


The silence in the dark is good too. While he immediately choked on his words and apologized for not formulating them in a way that "sounded right" or made sense, I thought about him. I thought of the past year of being his friend, and the last few months of our budding romance and selfishly I wanted to hold him forever. I wasn't ready to think about our potential last 3-4 months together because is green/grey/blue eyes are my comfort and his arms around me at night make me feel safe. And above it all is this notion that what we have is real and true, and would his anticipation in the months ahead disregard what we have for one another?


My drive home this morning, I thought of quality v. quantity. I would rather be loved undeniably for a short time then spent an long amount of time with someone who doesn't feel anything towards me. I think of these words.

From Alfred Lord Tennyson's poem In Memoriam:27, 1850:

I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

If these months ahead bring us joy or sorrow, I will cherish it. Wearing your heart on your sleeve means taking a huge chance and I am aware of the consequences. I'm willing to risk the pain for the chance to have just have him in my life for one more day. The relationship we have created brings forth a quality in which I have never felt before. We genuinely care for each other.  Initially, him telling me that his relationships are short lived and long term relationships freak him out, made me hurt it. However thinking more about it, he was just being honest, even if he didn't get the words out the way he wanted them too, he was sharing what he was thinking about. As a friend or a lover, what other trait is more important than honesty?

While the future is blurred for now I'll keep what I know far away from the fear of loosing him.
I know he makes me smile.
I know he says what he means and means what he says.
I know he's scared too.
I know what his smile looks like when he is really happy.
I know that familiar tune he hums.
I know that in this moment, I'd be willing to do anything to make him happy.
I know he would do anything to make me happy. Both of which mostly consist of playing guitar, dates at bookstores and coffee.
I know he is the one for me.
Right now, he is the one I couldn't afford to loose in my life.
While nothing is promised forever, in this moment, he is my partner, and what I will learn from him will stay apart of me for the rest of my life.

nostalgia

I've never wanted my definition as a person to be associated with another person. i'm proud and lucky to have wonderful people in my life, but I value self worth and with that being said, I like the quirks that make me up as a person. 

Like a lot of girls, and boys too, I've spent a lot of my life associated with different groups, clubs, activities, and beliefs that defined me for me. While these definitions for the most part rang true to my character, some were formed by assumption. "She's a cheerleader so she must be popular" or "She drives a nice car so she must come from money". Most the time, the assumptions that I heard about myself, I let people believe because, heck if people wanted to assume I was better off than I was, let them believe it.  Especially in High School, I never corrected people when their judgments about me we're off. If you thought I was in any way privileged over you, you best believe, I wasn't going to correct you and tell you the truth

And still when I see my high school friends, I'm tempted to tell them that I'm the same that I've always been, you know, whatever you want me to be. For some I let them think what they want still but others I can't lie anymore. 

Over winter break this year, the majority of my high school friends had turned 21 so it was almost mandatory that we get together at out local small town pub for a few drinks. I dreaded it. I was finally allowing myself to embrace my flaws and to show new found self to my old high school friends, would be impossible. Would they be let down at the real Molly? Would I not have anything in common with them anymore? And then there was Tessa. My best friend from 4th grade to ? really because for some reason in high school, she just stopped being my friend. That saddened me then and still confuses me that our friendship just disappeared. She had actually told me about the whole high school get together to begin with. I had not idea what this meant and it made me both apprehensive and excited about going. 

Long story short, I went.

And this group....

Became this group...

....real fast. Not for a moment did I take the role of my high school self. I listened as I heard of them speak of their dreams in college, their boyfriends, their family, and I transformed all my bias' and grudges against these girls for the last 3 years into a new found friendship. I mean we were friends... we were old friends. We lost our way from each other on the path to finding ourselves, but essentially, we will be there for each others. Estranged friends yes, but friends none the less. The fact that I held so strongly to my friendship with Tessa especially helped me finally tell her how much she always meant to me and I don't know that happened in high school, but I still think about her and wish I could changed whatever it was that happened. 

 She assured me that it was never me that strayed her away, but she was on her own path--focused on her dream of becoming a doctor and getting into the most prestigious school in the state. Sometimes we don't realize that we have to walk alone. As much as it would be nice to have company, we walk alone to find our strength, our passions, our purpose.
I now meet up with Tessa whenever I go home. While it may just be surface conversation, its conversation none the less. Time heals all wounds. Three years out of high school and with a little liquid courage on both our parts, we became friends again, real friends.

The funny part was, the whole time I thought I had changed so much that my high school friends would be shocked and unappreciative of the "new me", I hadn't taken into consideration is that we all changed. Heck, we were 21 and drinking with our high school vice principal and our teachers. I mean sure, the "jocks" still rough housed with each other and the leadership kids were still rallying people(to take shots) and the cheerleaders sat int he back and rolled their eyes at us for having fun--i guess some things wouldn't change .However, we all changed enough where we could appreciate the new adult side of us, yet still resonate with the part of us from our childhood remained that was so familiar and comforting.

I spent high school feeling like an outsider, only to realize after high school we were all outsiders. We were all weirdo's trying to fit in. The assumptions I felt toward me, everyone felt. High school made me feel like a self centered weirdo but really we were all weirdos who were so self centered we didn't even realize at the time we were all the same.

I'm really glad I went that night. I'll never forget the feeling of dancing in the bank parking lot to old songs, hiding in bathrooms and giggling at people, and  making the drunk McDonald's trip we never made in high school because we were to "goody goody" to get drunk. While those are the moments that stick out in my mind, I also gained the reassurance that people stay in your life. I use to think that people in high school were just a phase in my life. I remember thinking "I'll meet my REAL friends in college", I was completely wrong. While I don't call them everyday or vent to them about problems, the girls in my 2009 class aren't girls to just forget. We remember our memories together, we remember the good times and bad, we remember each others birthday's, our parents home phone line numbers, we remember each others first kisses', we remember the pain of loosing friends, we remember the crazy teachers we've had, we remember the football games we won and the ones we didn't, we remember signing the alma matter together win or loose, we remember map tag, buddies, and 2 square. We remember our past together. We all helped contribute to who we are now and that's something you just can't forget.