She rubs the sleep from her eyes and blinks back the light that filters its way past the drawn blinds. She doesn’t want to be awake; she’d rather be back in her dreams-where she can soar on the wind and feel truly happy. This place she left- her dream world- is to her, her only place of escape. It’s where she has no worries. It’s where she has no fears. It’s where she’d like to travel every chance that she gets. This place is filled with happily ever afters and dreams come true. She closes her eyes and urges the world to come back, to fill her mind with its impossibilities. For a moment, the world begins to waver into view, and she reaches out to grab it. But then a beep shuts it out, and she stretches her arm to hit the snooze button. It’s gone for now she realizes. There is no use in trying to get it back— but that’s ok, for there is always tonight.
She looked over in confusion. “Tell you what?”
“How it feels to be the best friend and nothing more.”
These words pierced and penetrated her until she could no longer breathe. She doubled over from shock or pain; she couldn’t tell. She gasped for breath as tears began to well in her eyes, but she blinked them away.
He looked on and stared at her without flinching.
She stared at his face, trying to find a glimmer of hope or some indication that this was not happening. Best friend. Those words had be haunting her for some time now, and he stated them as clear as day. Could he not see she was breaking and crumbling before his very eyes?
“You want to know how it feels? You want me to tell you how it feels?”
She stood to her feet and faced him. If he wanted to know, she’d tell him. She’d tell him exactly how it felt. She would tell him of the bone-crushing pressure she had to deal with watching him with another girl. She would tell him of the tears she cried at night, because she felt utterly and completely lonely in a world that seemingly required another person to feel complete. She would explain the thoughts that raced through her head. She would explain the way a breaking heart felt— when it wasn’t quite yet shattered, but well on it’s way— and how no amount of bandages could ever fix the scarring. She would tell him.
“It feels fine, because all we are and ever could be is best friends. There’s nothing more than that. Simply best friends,” she said as she shot him a reassuring smile.
He silently searched her face to find any indication if the feelings he felt for her were reciprocated but could find no hint. Her face was a blank canvas, and he had no idea of the picture she meant to paint.
“I’m glad,” he responded. “I’ll talk to you later then best friend.”
“Yeah,” she nodded. “Bye.”
He walked away from her, and as desperately as she wanted to call him back or have him embrace her and never let her go, she silently watched him walk away.
He wanted so desperately to turn back and tell her that he loved her, but he couldn’t. Not anymore.
She turned and walked the other way, her thoughts a jumbled mess of utter confusion. One day. She would tell him one day, just not today. And, she thought, maybe not ever.
She’s scared of being alone.
Hear her cries?
She’s terrified of the pain.
See that girl?
Hear her pleas?
See that girl?
She’s worth it; I swear.
I don’t know what it is about tonight, but I need you to know that I miss you.
I wish I could tell you about college so far.
You’d tell me that everything was going to be alright.
You’d tell me not to worry.
Why couldn’t I ever tell you that?
Reminders of you pop up everywhere.
Actually, because of you, I met a cute musician boy.
If it’s fate, I blame you.
Death is so permanent.
I hate it.
Goodnight Ishmael. :)
Miss you bunches.
The students who pave a road to success by themselves.
The kids who work hard to achieve what they want.
The ones who were instilled with family values.
Chivalrous beings with more than one thought on their minds.
Honor and respect are words no longer spoken— nor are they believed in.
Modesty is out the door.
Staying strong in morals.
Thinking for ourselves.
Not giving in to temptation.
Learning about government.
Caring about what happens.
We are a dying breed.
I’m awfully worried.
I learned an important lesson. I just don’t care what people think. Really. And when you don’t care, you seem to fit in just fine. Honestly, in a world full of people making their own decisions based on what’s going on around them, it’s better to think for yourself. It’s better to open your mind to your own ideas rather than following along like a lost puppy. People respect when you make your own decisions. It’s nothing to be afraid of. I promise. So whenever you feel pressured to do something, think about what you want. Not what someone else wants. This is your life. This is your time. I promise you that everything will work itself out in the end.
“Never let people get to you. The way I see it, they can’t pull the trigger if you don’t hand them the gun.”
She pressed her face into the down blanket and sighed. He had made an impression on her, with his dashing good looks, charming personality, and respecting attitude. She didn’t know much about him; he didn’t know much about her. He wouldn’t remember her for the rest of the evening, but she remembered him. She couldn’t forget, for when she was left alone, he came to her rescue. Whether she saw him again, it didn’t matter. His impression was already left and had already shaped the way she’d look at the world. In a moment of clarity, she figured out that good can come from anything. She wanted to see him again; she would try to see him again— and where the wind took her, she would fly.
In a world of constant chaos, full of lies and deceit, don’t lose yourself to the masses. Don’t let yourself fall victim to the relentless pressures of being someone you aren’t. Don’t sell your soul to feel accepted. Don’t give up or give in. When someone tries to hurt you, they use clever lies to manipulate you. They break you down and then enter your mind with blood-lust. They don’t care how you turn out. They could care less about your well-being. They want to see you drown in a sea of suffering and regret. Don’t let yourself sink to the bottom, because swimming up becomes the hardest part.
The sun illuminates her path with a stunning brightness, raising her temperature and making her wish for night. Too hot she mumbles. I can see everything, but this heat is too much. She searches for and finds a tree to hide the sun for a moment.
The brilliant spotlight shines down on the stage, lighting up her face with a ghostly glow. She raises her head and stares at the audience, half expecting faces to be staring back at her. She knows she can’t see them. She never can. Not with that spotlight darkening everything behind her.
As she walks home, the street lamps filter in and out every few seconds. In the few moments when she is in darkness, her heart flutters more than usual. But she sees the light, and it gives her hope. She knows that a light awaits her, bringing her to safety.
As she shuts off the final light in her house, she blinks to adjust to the darkness. The immense amount of nothingness fills her with a longing for light. She flicks on a nightlight and is instantly filled with relief. She is not alone in the darkness.
She awakens the next morning to watch the sun rise- the same sun she complained about the day before. The sun illuminates the darkness in the world and fills her with a sense of hope. The absence of light draws forth fear and tragedy, but in the light, she feels safe and hopeful. She closes her eyes and remembers that these lights in her life will never go out— and for that, she is thankful.
By flaunting your body, you’re objectifying yourself. If you use your body to get what you want, you’re reducing your body to a commodity. You’ve become nothing more than an item of exchange, bought and sold for cheap thrills and cheaper words.
Instead, save your body for your husband. Wait for a real man who won’t view you as another object of trade, but the sole object of his affections. Wait for the man who would sooner die than share your skin with the world. You’re worth it.
Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. It’s men like these who give me hope. It’s writings like this that make me remember that I am not to be taken advantage of. I wish more girls could understand this. You don’t have to stoop to a low level to feel accepted. Seriously, it’s not worth it.
People are really easy to meet but a lot easier to ignore.
Even though the campus is large, you randomly run into people you didn’t think you’d run into.
Cute boy central…especially in my poly sci class. Thank you so much for breaking my concentration guys.
Being sick sucks.
The smell of smoke and alcohol lingers in the air for a really long time.
So many people drink, but you aren’t the only one that doesn’t.
Clubs and meetings take up a lot of time.
Most people are really awesome.
There are a lot of sluts; you can easily pinpoint them out.
If you think you deduce how someone can act by how they look, most likely you’re right when it comes to bros and tools.
It is easier for gay guys to find significant others on campus than straight girls— I think it’s because they are much more open than straight males.
Gay best friends are the best.
Libraries are truly heaven.
Coffee is necessary.
You don’t have enough time to read.
Mac and Cheese and Pizza Rolls are God’s gift.
Keeping a dorm room clean is super hard.
Keeping up on schoolwork is even harder.
You can learn a lot from rap videos and musical clips.
The most important lesson: Tumblr and Facebook and YouTube are the death of college students.
I do attend Ohio University, and I do not drink or party. I’ve just decided to wait until I’m 21 to drink and all that crazy stuff. But walking past everyone last night was quite entertaining. People are really humorous. :)