Pink Flamingos in the Pool.

Much of this year was a blur to me. Things went by so fast and before I knew it, we're nearly approaching a whole new year- new memories, new friends, and new paths. 


I often relive my night-time dreams of the days when we'd get together on Friday nights to get "work" done; actually, we did less work, and had more jokes and laughter. Going in on Saturday mornings with as little as two hours of sleep, realizing we all look and feel like a mess. In the end, the mess was worth it. There are small details of those days that I could never forget- some bad, but more good. 


I thought about that one day, while sitting in English class, I was on the edge of my emotional peak. Ready to tell the next person off had they said the wrong thing to me. Right in that moment, Brian called to check up on me, and suddenly I started to bawl out my feelings of stress and anxiety to him. We were all under this invisible and constant pressure of just wanting to make it, and make it together. I can admit that in the near beginning of our candidacy days, many of us cared little for one another, and the word "team" was of to no existence or avail. None of us really knew each other; we all had very different backgrounds, experiences, perspectives, and talents- but after all the long nights, the excessive emails, and the funny text messages to one another, we found a friend in each other. 


Do you remember that one Friday night in Ro's dorm room where we all sat around watching "Step Brothers" while shining our shoes? Oh, I know you remember this night, because it was absolutely hilarious watching Ro, Noel, and Brian walk around acting-out that entire movie better than Will Ferrell and John Reilley. How about during TTW when we all had these ridiculous "missions" to accomplish, and somehow, in the middle of it all, we ended up on this small piece of plastic, hugging each other like care-bears (which by the way, made an awesome picture of Ro at his very best). Who could forget Kayley's infamous party back at her old apartment with her amazing roommates, plus 40 other people we all didn't know. "I'm the Indian in the cupboard!" Berkey shouts, while we all laugh and realize he was just in his underwear with penises drawn all over his face. Apparently he passed out in the bathtub, while the rest of us were dancing and drinking the night away. That was a good night, I'd say. What about the small party we had a Teresa's dorm right after dining-out, for which we all got kicked out and somehow ended up in the Bronx. Good times back at Teresa's dorm, where we'd sit around, talk shit, drink, watch TV., play cards, and joke around. Going out to Raenaa's job to have our semesterly get-togethers is always fun too, especially now since we're finally all over 21 and can drink, legally. I can sit for hours and reminisce about past times with these people. In the brief two years that I have known them, I can truthfully admit that they have changed me and molded me into a much better and happier person. Of course, that is what's bound to happen when you find the right group of friends. Once in a while I'll look back at old pictures of us. Pictures of our nights out, parties, get-togethers, community service work, and candidacy. We've had some amazing times, and I am absolutely grateful for all the times that are left to come. Years from now, I know I'll say, "These are things I'll never forget."


I remember at some point during candidacy, I wanted to just give up and quit- walk away from it all. Something had stopped me then and I didn't know what it was, but I later on realized that it was them. You never know what home really feel likes until you find that perfect group of people that within all your drama, flaws, mistakes, irrationality, and naiveness they still somehow accept you. They still care for you. I was young, I was naive, full of mistakes and irrationality- I thought I had the world figured out already, and I was dead wrong. Each of them brought some new and undiscovered perspective to the table that made my life so much more interesting, and suddenly a part of me had fallen in love for the first time. Not the kind of love that one has with his/her spouse, but the kind of love that becomes unconditional because it's a two-way street from there on out. They accept you with all your problems and bullshit, and you accept them in just the same manner. Isn't that what friends are for? For acceptance, love, and support? I always thought so. I already have friends that I feel that way with, but when you add a few more to that heart of yours, your love-letters start to sound like this:  

You guys might not know this, but I consider myself a bit of a loner. I tend to think of myself as a one-man wolf pack. But when we went through candidacy together, I knew Kerrianne was one of my own. And my wolf pack... it grew by one. So there... there were two of us in the wolf pack... I was alone first in the pack, and then Kerrianne joined in later. And then a few months after, when we all decided to hang out together, I thought, "Wait a second, could it be?" And now I know for sure, I just added five more guys to my wolf pack. Seven of us wolves, running around New York City together, looking for beer and food.

A lot of us ended up going separate ways for reasons that were out of our control, and as much as that saddens me, it has strengthened us. We're all living our own lives, doing our own things, fulfilling our own personal goals, but somehow in the midst of all that, we will meet somewhere in the middle- half way between me and you, which makes it us. 


At times when I dream, I go back to those days. I don't know why, but maybe somewhere deep down inside of me, I still miss them. I miss the closeness of always feeling surrounded by their presence because on my shittiest of days, they bring a smile to my face and laughter in my voice. I miss the endless and ridiculous loads of jokes- it's all the inside jokes that were the best to me. I guess, when it comes down to it, I miss having them around for the sake of them keeping me sane. There were days when we all hated our lives and asked ourselves, "Why are we here again? What was the purpose of this?" All these unanswered questions, but the fact of the matter is that we all made it through the trials of miles together, and that is what made everything all the more possible even when life seemed impossible. (At least for me, this is how I felt, I can't speak for all of them.) I know that no matter what happens, where ever we all end up at, we'll always be friends, even though some part of me still feels left behind in those days and ways of when we were all just us; living in this small moment within our great big lives. I love each and every one of them individually with all their unique personalities and flaws. I love each and every one of them like I love my family.

Things I'll Never Say.

There are times when I think about you and I say to myself, "I'm better off." Then, there are those times like today, when I think about you, and I remember how happy I was with you and I think to myself, "I miss you." Even the weirdest of your ways I miss. Your compulsive obssession to talk about track and running; your ridiculous opinions about the way you look too thin and how people should learn to use the word "gaunt" more, because that's what you felt best described your look; and the way you would scavenge through nearly every piece of clothing you had in order to find something just right to wear for a night out. I'd laugh at those things because God knows I've never known anyone quite as different as you. Even the time you refused to kiss me when I was sick with a cold, because you feared I'd get you sick, which would lead you to miss out on your track meets. Of course you couldn't afford to do that, and I eventually learned to understand. The fact that you surprised me at my house with a can of Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup proved to me that you cared- I wasn't as mad anymore. 


I was thinking about those late nights, when we'd hang out around your school, holding hands. I recall that one adventure we had in the dark pits of a classroom you had class in. That was a night I couldn't forget because I remember telling myself, "He's just what I always wanted." No matter what you did or said, it was always different from what I've ever been exposed to. 


Though you may never know it and you may never realize it, you and I made the perfect team, despite the bad efforts to "make more time" for each other. I suppose I was right when I thought and felt that being in a relationship with someone should come easy and naturally. But I know I am also right when I think now that being in a relationship with someone takes work and effort. Though schedules will conflict, both people should be willing to compromise and sacrifice something- not everything, of course. I know we had this talk that day we decided to "officially" break-up, though in my mind we were still together. In my heart, I wish we were still together. 


When you went back to Connecticut for the summer, I was sure I'd have a hard time seeing you, since I'd be stuck here in the city. Despite our distance, I found ways to visit you. We even spent the 4th of July together with your awesome family. It may have been one of the very best 4th of July's I ever had. 


I miss holding your hand. Our first date was quite interesting, considering that we got caught in the first (and the worse) snow storm of the winter season, and because of it, we showed up to our movie late and missed all the previews. Everyone knows the previews are the best part about going to the movies; if you don't watch the previews, you might as well wait for the movie to come out on DVD or on TV. Of course, I made you watch a chick-flick because those are the only kind of movies I really enjoy watching- even when I'm alone. You learned that about me. After the movie, we showed up to your track-mate's party super late, or maybe they just end parties really early considering that it was only 1:00AM. A half an hour later, everyone was on their way out to head home, and so you and I were sober and late. By this time, the snow storm had taken over the entire city of Manhattan, the streets were covered in about a foot or two of snow. There were no cars and no buses, and the trains were definitely not running, how was I going to get home? Well, I wasn't, at least not until the next morning. You let me crash at your dorm for the night, and I know, I know- you're not suppose to "sleep" with a guy on the first date, but we didn't "sleep" together; we laid next to each other, and talked for a while about all the most random things in the world. I know that on that night, you didn't care as much about getting rest for your run the next day. I know that on that night you just wanted to be with me and your feelings did exist- they were there. That next morning, I woke up looking like a horrid mess due to all the smudged eyeliner and massacre I had all over my face, but you didn't care much. You hugged me close to you as you caressed my hair. I'll never forget that night/morning, I swear I won't. It may have been the best first date I ever had. 


Time followed and I was more and more eager to see you and get to know you better. We took some time out to see each other and hang out, go out, and talk. Those early weeks of us being together just like that, were the best weeks because that was the time I knew you had genuine feelings towards me. All along, I was scared I would be the one to break your heart by accident, but it turns out, you broke mine. Though you never lied to me, cheated on me, or misled me, you did fail to feel how I felt towards you after six months. I love you. I know you weren't and aren't ready to hear those words. I know you probably thought I was crazy the day I finally built up the guts to tell you that while the tears swelled up in my eyes, because I knew you didn't feel that way. I told you anyways, and I also told you that I could no longer be your friend, because I can't. I won't. How could we have all these amazing moments and memories together, and simultaneously your feelings don't change or grow? How could you tell me that I am so wonderful and beautiful, but your feelings don't change or grow? How could you show me that you care about me, that you've missed me while I was gone, and still say that your feelings did not change, or grow? I think back and I wonder where I went wrong, and what did I miss. Did I make a wrong turn somewhere? Did I misinterpret a sign?... I just don't know. It hurts me now, as I sit here by my computer, thinking about all of this- while at the same time I look at my phone, hoping you'd call and tell me exactly what it is that I want to hear. I sit here feeling confused and unsatisfied with your answers and your confusion towards me. Is there someone else? If there is, that would explain a lot I suppose. What in the world did I do wrong because I know in my heart and soul I did all I could that was right. 


There are times at night where I lay in bed for just a few seconds replaying times we've had together. I usually go back to those days when we'd stay up late in my room, watching TV and joking around, because I know those were the nights I'd never forget. Finally, I'd fall asleep and be awoken by my loud, annoying alarm clock. I would turn it off and convince myself that it's a new day- without you. I would tell myself, "I'm better off." How much of those three words I believe? I don't know. I do know that what we had was real, even if at times I could be slightly delusional, obsessive, and overly dramatic about this. You know me well enough to know that I am by far the most dramatic person ever; I should go into theater/drama one of these days. You know me well, though you think you don't. I know you well, though you think I don't.


I guess these are just a bunch of things I'd never say to you. There are things I wanted to tell you and ask you, like, are you going to run in the 5K event on 26 September (Tunnel-To-Towers Run)? I hope you do because I am. You know, I was never a big fan of running. In fact, I always hated the sport and thought it was pointless. After knowing you, I have a whole different outlook on it now. I actually even enjoy the torture of running. Did I tell you I was contracting with the Army this Friday? I am pretty excited about it. Also, my uncle is getting married in a month and I wanted to know if you would like to accompany me. 


But I can't get myself to call you, or text you, or send you a message on Facebook. I can't get myself to do any of these things without compromising my pride, while surrendering my emotions- and possibly my tears. I don't want to hear of this anymore and you have given me all the answers you had, I guess I have to let it go.


Did I tell you that I am scared to go back and look through my current journal? It hurts too much to realize how many pages you are on, and I can't get myself to keep writing your name in that book. I'm hurt, slightly humiliated, and feel a tad bit inadequate. I can't get myself to write those feelings in my journal because I know this is not the ending I wanted for myself. I'll wait.


Though all my previous relationships have failed, the only thing that has never failed me was Time. Somehow, someway, time moves me forward in this lonely universe. And days turn into weeks, while weeks turn into months, and months turn into years, and suddenly I will have forgotten you just as you will have forgotten me. The next thing I know, I'll be 25 and I'll look back and say to myself, "Wow, I thought I wasn't going to ever get over him, but I did- and I'm just fine." It always turns out that way. I was just 17 yesterday, then suddenly I was 19 with a broken heart and I swore by everything I loved that I would never move on from that. I'm 22 today and I look back at that past relationship and think, "Wow, I thought I wasn't going to ever get over him, but I did." I wish I could say that I am just fine, but something inside me tells me that I'm not, because I've moved on to something else- someone else- and of course, with my luck, everything fell apart. Once again, I am back in that same position, swearing by everything I love that I will never move on from this. Tomorrow I'll be 25 and realize that I'm just fine.

To the Bad Memories.

Broke:

To those bad memories...

A year has past since my time spent with you. Just as I always knew, things were never the same. I have never been the same. I've grown different, you've grown away. I tried to remain a friend to you, but time seems to pull us further apart than the actual distance that already lies between us. I've been finding it more and more difficult to move on and find something new, something better. You've scarred me beyond repair and now it seems I am just full of insecurities and "issues." You told me that I'd eventually get over it and move on. I've gotten over it, and I am moving on, but why do you still haunt me? Why am I still reminded of you? I just want to forget you. Two years of my life gone down the drain, and now I am left here with the feeling of loneliness, abandonment, and my never ending issue of trusting someone new. I am broken into a million little pieces, beyond repair.

The memory of the time we last saw each other, randomly comes to mind throughout the day. I can literally see my heart falling to the ground after I tried to hand it over to you one last time. It shattered. I knew damn well you were going to reject it, but I had hope. Hope that you'd change your mind if you saw just how fragile and innocent it really was. I could've stopped it from shattering, but instead I chose to watch it fall like a thin glass plate hitting the concrete. Completely broken. I just watched it, asking myself, "How am I ever going to fix it?" A year later, and I sit here now asking myself, "How am I ever going to fix it?" I need a new heart, God. I need a new heart. I've tried tape, I've tried glue, and somehow the moment I remember you, I am broken all over again.

God, I need a sign.

Left Behind.

There's no doubt that the environment that you were brought up in will ultimately define the person you become, it may even shape out what you're capable of, and what you're not. Today, for some reason or another, I wondered to myself, who I could have been if I were brought up elsewhere. Had I been brought up with both, a mother and father present that offered me guidance and a world full of opportunities, who could I have been? I then think to myself, "I could have been someone great- probably someone better than I am now." I probably would have done something great with my life that could have benefited others; I probably could have been more peaceful and at ease. 

There was a statistic I read about not too long ago that stated that children that grow up in stressful environments are more than likely to have issues with anxiety, depression, and self-esteem as they mature. For the kids that don't grow up in these "stressful" environments, I'm sure they don't have any of those issues. On the contrary, they are more likely to grow up a lot happier, more confident, and definitely not anxious. If you know me, you know me well enough to say that I've always grown up in a stressful environment. Even after the fact that I moved out of my house, I still somehow ended up walking right into another stressful environment that I didn't want to deal with. It's almost as if it just follows me where ever I go. In the end, I feel like it slows me down- sets me back from the rest. 

While everyone is moving forward, I get stuck behind with Stress and Drama; not my favorite people to hang out with, and they never were my choice of friends either. I've been desperately trying my best to slay away from them since God-knows how long, but each and every time, they pull me right back in, and so I never end up getting too far. I feel like a slave to them. I'm on a leash, and that leash can only extend out but so far, before I get reeled back in, and get toyed with, again. It's this stupid cycle that I can't free myself from, and I've been searching for ways to get out- and so far, all options have failed me. I'm 21 years old and I can tell you honestly, that I don't feel too proud of where life has taken me, especially not when I compare to others who've gone farther, who've experienced the better things in life. Most people would tell me to be grateful for what experiences I do have, and what things I've learned from them, and I would say that most people are right when they say that. But for this one time, I just don't feel like most people are right anymore, because I've hit this all-time-low that most people just do not understand. I can't emphasize how hard I've worked to get to where I'm at, and even after all of this, I feel like I have nothing. It may sound ungrateful to you, but in my world, things don't seem to make much sense anymore.

As a kid, my grandmother always used to say, "You can work hard for pennies that don't amount to anything, or you can work hard for wealth that will amount to thousands of opportunities- in the end, it's your choice." I don't know what I'm working for, but right from the beginning, it's always felt like pennies to me. Maybe, if I save up enough pennies, I'll have enough that will amount to a few hundreds, and then thousands, or even millions. Just maybe. 

Unchained Melody.

Since the detachment of my last serious relationship, since the disengagement of the last thing that I once thought I had a future in (Air Force)- I have forever been changed. I have never felt more inadequate in my life, than as I do right now. I repeat these memories over and over in my head and keep trying to retrace my steps, asking myself, "What did I do wrong?" I know they say that things are suppose to happen for a reason, but I just can't believe that to be true anymore. What are you suppose to do when what you've worked so hard towards suddenly disappears and is no longer an object or even an image in your future? How are you suppose to feel? Many people can go on their entire lives not working towards a thing, but for those who have devoted their entire efforts, time and dedication into something, what is to say about them? That their hard-work and determination isn't enough? Or is it that they are just inadequate? Hearts will be broken, I can deal with that; but not my dreams. When your dreams are broken you then find yourself to be broken too, and how do you mend yourself after such a tragedy? I just can't seem to begin at the end, again.


And time goes by so slowly, and time can do so much.