burrito year

my life is incredibly different now than it was one year ago today. I didn't know where I was going to be. But I know where I'll be on this day next year. 

I'll be in Los Angeles. I'll still be asleep after my long drive home. 
I will wake up and a sense of calm and excitement will sweep over me. 
I won't resent the year I left behind in Ashland. I learned a lot there. We had closure. I will reward myself with a burrito and come home and sit at my parents kitchen table and eat it. 

I can't not care. I have to care. Caring is who I am and that is not going to change no matter how many times you yell at me in public for it. 
I give people second chances, and third chances, and sixth chances. I give them chances until they truly don't deserve them anymore because I can only hope that there is something good in them. I have to believe that and I want to believe that. 

I can't just Eternal Sunshine someone out of my mind. 

When people come into my life they stay, unless they choose to leave. And that is how it will always be.

7.5 hours.

I'm sitting in my hotel room in San Francisco and it has never been more clear to me. 

I am making a huge mistake going back. 
But I can't change that. 

Last night I joked my way through dinner, saying I should just quit now, see where it gets me. My dad said, "Hey. I'm paying for that. Enjoy it." 

I replied, "If I don't I'll pay you back." 

Manando that shit.

"I love you. Make out with lots of girls." 

"I love you too. And I'll try." he said as I slammed the car door. 



This was my goodbye with my best friend. 

Every part of me is saying finishing college is a mistake. Which is crazy. But somewhere deep in my gut I know I shouldn't go back. But I have to. 
Potentially this year could be the biggest mistake of my life. 
Potentially this year could be the year I learn the most. 
Potentially this year could be the year I learn I know what I need to know to do this for real. 

Regardless, unfortunately or fortunately I'm going back. Tomorrow. 


So. 

I guess we'll see.

I think I'm dreading this year to protect myself. 


I think it's going to be fine. 


Maybe I'll actually learn something. 


Who knows.

pretzel logic.

Different pieces of my love rest in different places. 

A piece in fort and under the covers, looking at your stern face as you slept and breathed deeply. 
A piece in the gravel, in the morning next to your umbrella and my jacket on the ground. 
A piece in the back of the car, my head in your lap as you sang to me horribly and sweetly.
A piece in that dirty house, wearing your shirt, in the cold and everything smelling like bacon and effort. 
A piece in the kitchen when I made you dance and you did and I looked up at you and knew what I wanted. 


I tend to believe that if I try hard enough, if I say a lot of things maybe everything will stay, everything will be here.

Then there are the pieces that do. 

A piece on your shoulder, on your couch with a beer and a look that knows what I need, when I need it. 
A piece on the rock, near the ocean, on the beach and the face that I've know as long as mine. 
A piece in a place that I don't want to be but there's pizza and a happy-saddness that comforts me. 


As for the largest piece, I should call it a chunk or a slice, that will probably be somewhere else tomorrow or the next or the next. 

He kissed my forehead. We lay there, in the gravel in a park in London as the sun came up. Being kissed on the forehead always seemed patronizing to me. But this one came at the right moment. 

I did not cry. At first. I hung up the phone in our poorly lit cockroach hotel in Rome and didn't know what to do. This was the logical thing to do. We weren't going to see each other again. Why would I be in a relationship with someone I wasn't going to see again. 
 I joked that Rome was the best city for me to be dumped in. Pasta and wine. Comfort foods. 
It wasn't until Florence that I realized what had happened. 
We stood on at bridge and the sun was setting. I didn't want to say anything. I didn't want to talk about it. But I had to. So we did. I allowed myself to be sad about it in Florence. But as soon as we got off of that train I couldn't think about it anymore. I was in Europe. There's no point to being heart broken in Europe. 

I realize now it will be good for me to not be with someone for awhile. 
I need to be with myself. 

Because the main thing I realized about myself on this trip is that I'm pretty sure I'm capable of falling in love with any one now. And if I'm not careful I'll be the window girl for the rest of myself, only associated with other people. 
And I don't want that. 
I want to be associated with myself. 

The Truth of the Matter.

The truth of the matter is that it don't matter. 

Mary's father song plays in my head and makes me want to buy a record player. I think I'm going to.

But here is the truth. For once in a blue moon its good to not be cryptic.

Actually, you want a couple of truths? 

I'll start with one that shouldn't matter to me: 

First truth: I resent a younger girl for stealing my break up. That's right. I do. I spent two months in two different therapists office shifting through my feelings alone in a corner and coming out the other side a stronger person baffled by the amount of time I spent putting everything I had into taking care of another human being. She has spent five months talking to everyone, having everyone's sympathy about the same person. She used the worst night of my life as a metaphor for her own writing and it still bothers me. I don't know why it bothers me so much but it does. She stole my break up. Part of me is glad I dealt with it all alone [and with the help of two therapists and my best friend] but yeah mostly alone. The thing is, I'm fond of this girl which is why I can say with every bit of love in me: build a bridge baby girl. I would let you walk on my bridge if it was at all the same situation, but it is not. 

Second truth: I continue to be shocked that I have fallen so in love with a robot and that robot has fallen in love with me back. After the initial rocky start and the questioning if it was the right thing to do to stay together over the summer I am sure that it is. We talked at 2am my time, 4am his time and he told me how much he missed me. How happy I make him. When did this happen. How did this happen? How did we get from that night in the fort with the whiskey and the kiss that made everything disappear and me thinking that it was never going to happen again to here? It makes me simultaneously happy and sad that this will only get to be what it is for one more year. I didn't think I would fit with someone like this. It brings a whole new meaning to the song Red Right Ankle for me.

Third truth: I have been in love three times.  The first time embarrassed me. The second time made me vulnerable. And the third time has made the tips of my fingers tingle and my lips go numb. What fascinates more is the sensation of falling out of love. I have fallen out of love two times. The first time happened long after it should have, I looked him between the shelves of a used book store and I realized didn't ache to know what he was thinking. The second time we stood in the hall way of the building and he yelled at me and held his heart and I realized I didn't ache to have his attention. 

Fourth truth: I don't want to begin to think about the third time I'll fall out of love.

Some sort of boyfriend soundtrack.

I've been listening to my ipod on shuffle. I am challenging myself to listen to every song.  It has made me realize I associate songs with people. So here is the soundtrack of boyfriend's past and one bonus track for my current relationship.

Track One: Blister In The Sun- Violent Femmes
 
Track Two: Cold Day In The Sun- Foo Fighters 

Track Three: That's The Way- Led Zeppelin

Track Four: If You're Wondering- Weezer  

Track Five: Every Man Has A Molly- Say Anything

Track Six: Beyond The Sea- Bobby Darin

Track Seven: The Sound of Settling- Death Cab For Cutie  

Track Eight: Sunshine- Matt Costa  

Track Nine: Oregon Girl- Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin 

Track Ten: White Blank Page- Mumford & Sons  

*BONUS TRACK* Track Eleven: A Girl, A Boy, and a Graveyard- Jeremy Messersmith

Silence is the perfectest herald of joy

This is usually true for me. 

At 10:15pm just before we touched down in Los Angeles, I looked out the window of the airplane and listened to a song. I felt the lump in the throat rise and all I could think was how inappropriate it would be to start crying on this airplane. 

Especially because I had absolutely no reason to cry. 
I was happy. 
I finished the most personally challenging year of my life, I was about to be home and see my friends, I was in love again... 
and that is when it happened. 

It was one of those strangled pathetic sobs that you try to hold in as long as you can but at some point it just comes out. 
I covered my mouth, looked over at the older woman a seat away and smiled apologetically. She looked back and smiled. I turned my attention back to the lights outside and it happened again. Then the tears fell and I couldn't stop them. I was mortified. 
The older woman put her hand on mine. 

"Are you alright?" 
"Yes. Yeah. I'm okay. This is so embarrassing, I'm sorry." 
"Don't apologize to me. What is the matter? If you don't mind me asking." 
"I don't. It was a tough year. When I say that it sounds stupid it. It sounds like something horrible happened to me. No one died, I didn't get hurt or diagnosed with some disease, it was just hard. I was tested. I've known who I am for so long and this is the first year I questioned all of that." 

I stopped. I couldn't believe I had just told a stranger all that. Usually its strangers that tell me whats wrong in their life, not the other way around. 

"Sorry. That was a lot of unloading on you." 
"I don't mind. I'm sure you would listen to me if I had something to say." 

She squeezed my hand. 

"Its okay to question everything, to not have a handle on things. Trust me. You have time, but don't wait around for everything to happen." 
"I don't plan on it. Thank you for listening." 

that must be my kind of love.

We walked through the quad of the high school across the street from my house and sipped champagne straight from the bottle. 
We talked about camping and seeing stars and dying and being together for a long long time. 

Sometimes I wonder if we talk about our future together because we both know it probably won't happen. Sometimes I wonder when we talk about how I bring out the best robot in you and you bring out the best robot in me we're just saying that because it sucks we're in such different places in our lives. Sometimes when we talk about having kids together in ten years I wonder why I couldn't have met you later in my life. 
But it was good we have this time now. 
We needed each other. 
We didn't know we needed each other but we do. 

I think about where I was six months ago and it doesn't seem real. 

On January 1st, at 6am I sat on a plane, in the seat by the window, trying to think about putting myself through giving everything to another person again. I knew I would, it became my nature, I just knew it wouldn't be for a long time. 

The past four months have proven my theory. 
There are very, very different kinds of love. 

The Dragon Lady.

As I sat at intermission for a show I had seen so many times and still wished I could have been in, I watched my former professor and his wife interact. They stayed in their seats as the house lights went up and he whispered something in her ear. She slapped his arm playfully and threw her head back and laughed. Then she said something and he laughed and patted her hand. He noticed me looking and waved me over. 

"This, my darling Sarah, is the Dragon Lady. Dragon Lady, this is one of my favorite students of all time, the famous Sarah." 

I shook her hand. "You don't seem like the Dragon Lady to me!" 

"I'm not. But I could be if I wanted to." 

I smiled. 

Then my professor said, "Does that handsome boyfriend of yours know how lucky he is to have a cougar like you?" 

"I think so." 

Then the Dragon Lady said: "Remind him all the time. Because that my dear, is how you become the Dragon Lady." 
My professor laughed and kissed her hand. "It's true." 

See. That is what I want when I'm one hundred and fifty years old.

I can easily say this is the most alone I've ever felt in my whole life. 

Sometimes its a good thing. 

But right now it just feels awful. 

There isn't anyone I can be with that doesn't want something from me here. 


I just want to go home and be with people who love me.

I am now the girl who made a robot fall in love with her.

because I am really Wall-E in disguise.

Table 13

It's very likely I have already used this quote for some sort of entry. 

I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self respect. And it’s these things I’d believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn’t all she should be. I love her and it is the beginning of everything.  
-F. Scott Fitzgerald 

I've been thinking about love a lot lately. The different forms. The different kinds of love for different people. There is a certain kind of love that I have for my best friend that is different for my other best friend. And the same goes for the first time I was in love and the second and the third...

We went to a wedding. Not all of us but a few. I sat alone at the ceremony because my mother vacated her seat to take pictures. I watched two people promise each other a lot of things and I thought about my future. It was my first time being at a wedding feeling like an adult. Feeling as though some day people would all be watching me say true things to someone.  

That idea doesn't repulse me anymore.

I hope someday someone will want to stand up and say that to me in front of everyone. Without me asking. Without me convincing them or fishing for something. 
Now that I know what that kind of feels like, that's what I'll expect. 


The boy that was almost a man and I stood by the bar. I drank whiskey, he drank rum. 

"Do you love her?" I asked. 
"Yup." 

 

SO FAR.....

 
One: Got smashed in San Fran.
Two: Ate a lot of food. 
Three: Slept well. 
Four: Wrote a whole motherfucking play. 
Five:  Thought about a lot of things.
Six: Got a massage. 
Seven: Liked being missed. 
Eight: Talked to my favorite person on the planet about life. 
Nine: Played games with the best two year old. 
Ten: Got paid to act. 
Eleven: Spent a lot of much needed time alone. 


I don't really know why I would go back. Other than to finish my degree. And see the people I like there. 


[Well played with the penguins. You made me have a little lump in my throat. Do yourself a favor and find something new. Don't try to replace me. Let our time be what it was. Don't be a jerk and use my favorite thing on the planet to make me feel shitty. Just saying.]

here

I can breathe again. 
[even though the air isn't as clean] 

I walked into my room and there was a bouquet of daffodils. It was my moms way of saying [without having to actually say it] sorry the last three months have been terrible, they're over now. 

And the are. I get a week away from everything. 

I feel so calm.


finally. 

hand talk.

the whole non-verbal thing is becoming wonderful. 
last term we did this thing in movement where we had conversations with our feet but I like having conversations with our hands. 


[I got really drunk last night because I was trying to be fun but even that seems to backfire. aren't I allowed to have fun?] 


[You picked a flower for me and I put it in a little jar and tried not to smile too big.]

she was something.

Having a very challenging time coming to terms with the fact that most of what I'm proud of goes unrecognized. 

I didn't feel the surge of electricity running through my body like I felt last night with the other parts I had. I felt real things. I was proud of what I was showing for the first time. 
I got more feed back and praise for the one minute and thirty seconds I was on stage then for laying my guts out. Do I just have a really fucked up perception of my abilities? 

They all left and he pulled me on to his lap. For the first time in a long time I felt protected. I had, discretely, almost finished an entire of champagne alone. 

"What's going on?" 

I shook my head. 

"You can tell me." 

And so I did. And he listened. 

"I care about you a lot. I hope you know that."

"I just want to be something."

"You are. You're more than something."

fire.

today I accidentally said something sorta wise to a fun girl I love: 

"Initially you're attracted to someone because of what you have in common. But what keeps you around is your differences."

Couldn't be more true for me. Especially right now. 

I can't help but think five steps ahead with him because its easy to see that. because its so easy. I feel fully and happy and smiling all the time. [the game we play, the dance of sorts when you know you have to leave but don't want to... that is one of my favorite things.]

Oh shoot. 
Dangerous territory.  

It's just too easy.

Too honest. 

Too straight forward. 


Waiting for it to not be real. 

Waiting for the other shoe to drop. 




Waiting.  


EH, fuck waiting. 

lets just enjoy this. 

Things to look forward to:

one. NOT BEING HOMELESS NEXT TERM. WEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

two. Being Edna. Showing them I can do something that's not funny and fucking mean the hell out of it. [because I WILL mean the HELL out of it.]

three. Finals week: AKA making great dinners, drinking lots of wine and sleeping in late.

four. LA. warm. salt water. mommom. pancakes. parents. wedding!

five. talking to my best friend face to face and feeling that comfort again.

six. ONE PERSON SHOW. [what one EARTH can I say in a way no one else has before?]

seven. Camping. because we're going to go CAMPING! [aaaand make a campfire and dance in the woods and look at all the stars, and tell stories and sleep in a TENT!] 

i once knew a man, who told a tale as tall, as the mountains that he came from.

I've been collecting all the pieces and trying to fit them back together in secret. I need to stop but I feel like I owe it. 

I don't. 

But something tells me that this one is going to be different. 
I never imagined that I would want this now, but now that its here I do. 



[I'm secretly really freaking out about losing my house but I don't want to bug her about it because then everyone will be passive aggressive towards me again.] 

I want to pack up my car and pitch a tent with you, just the two of us. I want to lay in silence and look at the sky.

Nobody has ever measured, not even poets, how much the heart can hold

things that happened this week:

one. had the happiest morning I've had in a long time. Smiling like a fool, skipping home with Sam.
two. honesty, honesty that always seems to backfire even though its asked for.
three. found out I won't have a roommate soon.... but I love my house with my whole heart and don't want it to go away. 
four. drank a beer in a dorm room. [never thought I would do THAT again] 
five. actually succeeded in movement. 
six. tried to be supportive in way that wouldn't hurt him more. 
seven. watched him cuddle with another girl four seats away and wondered why I'm not allowed to be happy. 
eight. decided to be happy anyway. 
nine. got into One Person Show. now what the fuck am I going to write my show about. 
ten. got all dressed up and ready with an interesting girl very much like being around surprisingly. 
eleven. Zelda and Scott. 
twelve. saw a play I have a lot of very strong opinions about.
thirteen. drunk.
fourteen. "you're my girl, right?"

and the mind can play tricks on the fool who tries to use it.

I wish I could have watched the Oscars last night. 

Its stupid or whatever but things like that make me excited for all the possibilities of the world. And I'm not saying I'm going to burst out of Ashland and win Oscars, [but wait, why the hell not?] 



We lay awake at 5:17am. 

"I feel desperate and stuck and like I'm aching for something."

"Why?"

"Because, well, I don't want to poison you." 

"Poison away." 

"It'll be different for you, but being here is exhausting. I know I'm not always going to get every part, rejection is inevitable. But... I get mad watching sometimes. Like watching the show tonight. Because I know I can do it." 

"They can do it too, right? At least some of them." 

"And I know that. Yes, of course. See I'm selfish." 

"It's not selfish to want something you know you could do. It's not selfish to want chances."

"I would have traded all the shows last year for any of this years shows. I want to say beautiful words about love and not apologize for them and be able to mean them as much as I wanted. But maybe... ultimately all I want is just to be able to say those things to someone in my life and have them feel the same way. I just do not want to apologize for feeling things." 

"Then don't. Don't apologize."

"I just want to be free from here already. I want to be able to try to reach my full potential, but I feel like I can't do that here if I'm not given the chance to show other sides. Other than silly and presentational."

"I just look at you and see your talent and potential. Take it or leave it, what the hell do I know, but I see it. And I think you're going to do big things. And when you're all famous and every guy wants to be with you, because they all will want to be with you, you should find me and let me hold you one more time."

"What a simple and wonderful request."

pillow thoughts

So, we should check in a little bit. Do you want to keep seeing me?

The thing is I don't really think I need to anymore. I like talking to you but I think I can do this on my own now.

I would agree with that. In all my time doing this I don't think I've ever witnessed someone pick up the pieces of their life so quickly. You recognized that you were unhappy and you changed your situation. That takes a lot of guts.


Thank you. That really means a lot. I guess... Yeah, I'm proud of myself too.

You should be. You're very brave, intelligent and nurturing. Just do me a favor, make sure you're taking care of yourself and not other people. Take care of them if they need it of course but not at the cost of your happiness. Okay? 


I sat at the head of the table after eating a delicious slice of pizza with a whiskey sour in my hand smiling. I was happy. I was tired but very happy. And as if on cue, like what happens in most stories, it got all dark and I immediately felt uncomfortable. I finished my drink in a gulp and walked out of there.

It breaks my heart that he doesn't want me to be happy. I feel like it invalidates everything we've been through because he would rather have me be miserable. 

We're not going to be able to be friends. That is the gut wrenching truth. I think the reason why we won't be able to be friends is because no one knows the real you but me. And that terrifies you. It will be hard to see you fall back into who you use to be. Maybe they'll find out, maybe they won't.

"You gotta do you right now." 

Yeah, I do.  

number 2

I mentioned feeling like I was finally coming up for air:

Its like when you jump into the deep end of a swimming pool and you sink down to the bottom. You know that feeling?

Yes. 

And you don't expect to be down there long, you know you'll just float up to the top soon. 

Right. Two years ago I jumped in the pool and didn't realize how deep the deep end was. 

Do you wish you had come up for air sooner? 

I'm not sure yet... So many water metaphors in my life right now. I miss the water. 

You miss...?

No. That time I was talking about the actual water. I miss the actual water. The ocean.

I feel free.

I feel free. 


I feel free.



I feel free. 


I feel free. 


I feel free. 


I feel free.



and he gave me his sweater to wear if I wanted to and I definitely do want to and


I feel free. 

I feel like I'm coming up for air for the first time in years. I got so use to breathing under there that I forgot what it was like to breath at the surface. And I'm gulping in the air because its clean and makes my heart beat faster. 
I got back and started walking inside and then dropped my bag by my door and took off running down the street laughing and smiling and breathing and letting out strangled yells through the laughter. Once I reached the stop sign I pulled my sweater over my head and swung it around my head and skipped a little and laughed. 
I thought I wanted to run with someone but I really just needed to run alone. 

I am free. 

instruction manual.

I truly enjoyed myself for the first time since before winter break last night. 
It was nice talking to someone. 
It was nice feeling like I could say anything and not have to fucking apologize for it.

I AM FINISHED APOLOGIZING FOR THINGS I SHOULD NOT APOLOGIZE FOR. 

From here on out I'm living this up for me. 
It is my turn. 





I only wish I didn't hurt so horribly when other people hurt. It makes living for myself far more complicated. I feel like I'm not allowed to enjoy myself even though this is what I was instructed to do.

I'm following instructions.

blame game.

The sun was so bright and the air was actually warm yesterday. I woke up feeling happy. Happy for the first time in weeks. Waking up yesterday felt like bursting through the surface of the cold salt water after being submerged for a long time. 
But throughout the day I slowly got pulled back underneath the water. 

"Don't blame other people for your unhappiness." 

"But how can I not blame them when I am happy until they influence my day in a negative way?" 

"You have to just try to be happy regardless of what they feel." 

"That is completely fucking impossible. I'm sorry. But seriously its impossible. Other people have always affected me." 

"Why?" 

"Because I care? I don't know." 

 
Tonight might be interesting.

In the dark car before we walked into a gathering I did not want to attend I yelled, "WHY WON'T PEOPLE JUST LET ME BE HAPPY?"
She looked at me. Because she is so wise and said, "Fuck 'em."

breaking up in a fishbowl.

"I have this dream... Is it cliche to talk to a therapist about dreams?" 

"Its very common but I'd love to hear it." 

"Okay. Well, I have this dream, its replaced the one where all of my friends, except for Stephanie, are holding me down and scratching me and ripping out my hair. So that's a positive thing." 

"That is a very positive thing." 

"ANYWAY, I walk through this museum. There are artifacts from my life everywhere. Some that I recognize, some that I don't but I still have emotional attachment to them regardless. And I walk through and touch the glass, or stand and admire them for awhile and feel a sense of wholeness. Like everything in this museum was worth my time and nothing in it makes me sad or better yet, makes me want to steal it from the museum and relive it. I just want to look and know that its there and safe. I'm too much of a control freak. I care too much how other people feel about my personal life and I'm trying to control him so he thinks of our relationship fondly and doesn't trash it to whatever girl he gets with next." 

"Are you worried he will? Trash it?" 

"I just want the museum to be for me. And he can come visit it as long as he's respectful." 

"Tell him that. Tell him you want him to respect it." 

"I will. I'm going to. I finally think I know exactly what to say to him without getting lost in his arms."  

"You have a remarkable handle on this. I'm not just saying that. I know you feel like you don't but you do. This is normal and okay. It can't be easy feeling all of this, breaking up in a fishbowl." 

"Its not. Thank you for saying that.I feel like that's all I've wanted. Someone to say I'm not crazy and I'm doing a good job." 

"You're not crazy. You're just trying to fall out of love in a place that's not allowing you to do so. And you are doing a good job. And you have very interesting dreams." 

easier for you.

I still love you. 


But I wonder what it would be like for both of us if we weren't trapped here, in this place, with all these people, most of whom don't give a shit about us. 

What if this had happened two years down the line when we were both going in different directions and we could enjoy the company and attractiveness of other people without feelings guilty and disgusting and jealous. 


That is what I wish could happen now. 
I wish I could leave right now so these feelings would go away. 

Maybe its impossible to stay connected to a person when there are too many feelings involved.

But I don't care what she says, even if shes joking or serious, I believe in love, and know I'm going to have it. If I can believe it after feeling like my heart is being torn up every time I'm near him or he kisses me because we can't shake the habit, she can believe it.



[I'm putting on a way bigger show than anyone wishes to believe or see. I'm heartbroken. But maybe its easier not to talk about it because no one knows what to say.]

ice.

After many nights of having the same dream over and over and over again, last night I finally had a new one. 
I was standing on ice. I looked around and could not see anything else for miles except for ice.
The sky was that annoying white-gray that I hate so much. 
The ice cracked and I lost my balance. 
It cracked again and I fell to the other side. 

It cracked a third time and a whole opened up in the ice.
I clung on to the side with everything I had. 

That was it. 

I don't remember anything else. 

honesty?

For the past three nights I've had the same nightmare.

I went for drinks with my brother last night and I felt safe and loved and understood. For awhile I thought we only became friends because of circumstance. But I realized even after all these months of not talking, he is a real, true friend that cares about me.

Even when I feel alone I do have people. Not a lot of people can say that. I'm lucky. I know it.

My roommate started to tear up last night. I told her how lonely and painful this week again and I could tell how much she cared.
Things will get better.

I don't really know who regularly follows this.
I tend to write in code or try to because I don't want to say anything too real, give away too much.

But fuck it.

A lot of people think seeing a therapist is a sign of weakness. That needing someone to talk to shows that you can't handle your thoughts alone.

Well. I am weak. and I can't handle my thoughts alone.
But its not a sign of weakness.

I'm finally taking matters into my own hands so I can figure out what the fuck I should do.

Seeing a therapist today. Hope it goes well.

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

All that stuff happened and then he came over and confused me and then I told him I wanted to be with him and then he told me he wanted to be with me but didn't want to be with me and it was confusing and horrible and I feel hallow. 
I feel numb. 

I legitimately cannot be here to watch him move on. 
My heart can't handle it.

Penguin love.

When I was four years old, I walked into my grandparents house and clutched my brand new stuffed penguin I fondly called, Penny. 
My Pop-pop sat me down on his knee and quizzed me about the penguin, seeing how much I knew about them. 
I was four so I knew very little. 
"That is an Emperor Penguin, darling. Do you know where they live?" 
"They live in the cold?" 
"That's right!" he said "What else?" 
"Theeeey.......hide their eggs underneath their bodies?" 
"Right! But do you want to know my favorite part about them?" 
I nodded vigorously. 
"Penguin love is the deepest most true kind of love." 

My grandfather was a very loving man, but most of that started when he became a grandfather. He was not the most present father and struggled with alcoholism. 
He made up for lost time with his children's kids. 

From the time that he told me about this deep Penguin love until I was thirteen, I was under the impression that Penguins were the most magical animals who mated for life. It baffled me because that is not something even most humans are capable of. 
When I saw March of the Penguins my world was shattered. Not only because of how heart breaking it was, because it was in that dark movie theatre that I realized my grandfather was wrong: Penguins did not mate for life. 

I was crushed. I watched my parents fight and was having enough trouble believing in human love, but now the Penguin love was gone? 

They remained my favorite animal but I was in denial. 
I wanted to believe that maybe the movie got it wrong, maybe it depends on the penguin, like people. 

Then I fell in love for the first time. 
I didn't want to be in love with him because I knew he didn't feel the same way. I distinctly remember sitting in that dark car with him whispering, "Don't worry, you didn't hurt me. I wasn't in love with you anyway." 

I truly believed I didn't love him. 

And then, I fell in love for the second time. 
It was unexpected and strange but months into our relationship I knew it was true. It felt different than before so I still wrote off the first time. 

My heart broke when he walked out of my room and I kissed him at midnight knowing it was probably going to be our last.

When I went back on New Years day, the boy who "didn't" break my heart and I spent some time together. Looking at his face, the same face who so lovingly rejected me all those years ago made me realize something I am only now strong enough to admit: I was in love with him. But I'm not anymore. Of course I felt a love for him, probably a kind of love I'll only ever feel for him specifically, but it was such a weight lifted off of me as we walked through that used bookstore together to know, I use to be in love with him. 

Which brings me back to the Penguins. 

Today I realized my grandpa didn't lie to me. He never said, "Penguins mate for life" I only assumed that because I wanted to believe it and I was four. Or because I was thirteen and I desperately wanted to believe that true love existed.

It does. 
Penguins have it too. 

Penguins do fall in love. For one year they are completely devoted to their counter part. The male penguins protects the egg, while the female penguins risk their lives for their egg and their mate gathering food. 
They find each other again through a special noise that only they know. 
They cultivate their love through the egg. 
And then they leave each other. 

This no longer breaks my heart. 
It gives me hope. 

As we clung to one another he said to me, "If there is one thing I know for sure, you're going to fall in love again. You deserve to have love in your life more than anyone else I know. And the person who gets it is going to be very lucky. I was." 

There's a common misconception that people can only have one true great love in their life. 
That's bullshit. It's all about timing. 

I'll probably fall in love many more times before I find someone I want to spend even more time with.
I love falling in love. I use to think being in love was a sign of weakness. It isn't. And it doesn't scare me anymore.  
And I'll know in my gut when its right.


 

I should have stayed in last night. 

I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times:
I am unhappy here. 

I embarrassed myself last night for all the right reasons.

This place makes me feel like a crazy person. 

He made me feel like a crazy person. 

The one person I always trusted. 

first week.

In movement I hit someone in the face with a ball and I lost it. I felt horrible. We both knew it was an accident but somehow it triggered something awful inside of me. When we put our hoods on and walked around the space neutrally I cried underneath my hood. My professor kept calling me out saying, "You're slouching! Stand up straight! Walk with the floor!" I wanted to yell back, "I KNOW I AM MOTHERFUCKER, I'M CRYING UNDER HERE."

We were suppose to find someone in acting class we didn't know and stare at each other for a few minutes. No talking. Her and I ended up together because all the people I actually didn't know where taken. We sat down and stared. 
Her eyes were so full. So strong and supportive. As if at the same time, our eyes both began to fill with tears. I felt like we were talking to each other without saying anything. I tried with everything I could to hold it in but I couldn't. She looked at me with tears running down her face and smiled as if to say, "Just go for it love" And I crumbled. I grabbed her hand and started sobbing. I knew everyone could hear me but I didn't care. It was the most connected I felt to someone in a week. 

After class I apologized to my acting professor for being so emotional these first two days. She said, "At least you're not lying about how you're feeling. You recognize it and you're pushing through." She hugged me and then said, "I'm really excited to work with you. I've wanted to for awhile."


Last night I barely made it all the way into Creek because I stopped and talked to a smart and interesting girl who use to live in my room on S. Mountain. 
I had three drinks and a slice of pizza with her and we talked for three hours.

Halfway through our conversation she said we got along because we're water signs. 
She said she loved how direct I about the way I was feeling while still managing to figure out the emotions. 
She told me everything and I told her everything and it was exactly what I needed.

I miss him so much. I'm waiting for the day I can tell he doesn't miss me. 

But I can also tell this is going to be a really important year for me.

SO,

I figured it out. 

When I'm in Southern California I feel like the best version of myself. I feel smart and attractive and interesting and worth everyone's time. 

When I'm in Ashland I feel like a slug. I feel ugly and moody and stupid and not worth anyone's time. 


So.

Where does that leave me? 

I am going to bust my balls for this BFA, learn as much as I can and go back to the sun. 

Only six more months, then three in the sun/Europe, then back to the the cold for three and then to the sun for a month and then back for six and maybe more if I end up doing the internship. 

That's anywhere between fifteen and nineteen months. 

Can I do that?  

We'll see. 

I really miss home right about now. 
Feel like I can't talk about the thing I desperately need to talk about. 
Every one keeps telling me, give it time, it'll get better and I know it will, I just don't know if it will here. 
My mind is with the sun. and the sun isn't here for too long every day. 
I just want someone to make eye contact with me for more than ten seconds and shake me and say, FUCK, yeah. this does suck. 
The lump in my throat just grew larger and larger all day. 
Sometime in the past two years my defense crumbled. 
I realized how good it felt to love and I allowed myself to. 
I still want to feel that. 
I still want to feel supported and cared for. 

I want someone to take care of me. 

Now I'm a romantic. 
Something I use to perceive as weak. 

Now I'm a romantic.

I knew coming back would be a good thing. 

I've realized too many things to write down. 

I still hurt every where. 

I sat in the empty bath long after the water drained and cried. 

I couldn't stop crying. 

He told me he knew it was over. No questions. He came to terms with it just like that. 

I'm still hurting. 

and I'm miles away.

The year I figured out how to love.

JANUARY.
Upon my return to Ashland I realized I felt a lot more than I bargained for. I always thought my greatest fear was not succeeding but I soon came to realize that what I feared more was being heartbroken. We cared for each other deeply but neither of us knew how to say it. I opened up, shed layers quickly to try to show him how much I cared by telling him things about me no one knew. I applied to work on Catalina Island for the summer and I really pictured myself being on the island. I realized I was in too deep with this boy and feared that he would be the one to break me in two. I would be able to put myself back together but how whole could I make myself. These particular girls made me want to scream. I was jealous of them for some strange reason. It made me feel ugly and horrible.

FEBRUARY.
We began to say "I love you" on a regular basis. Saying those words use to feel like toffee in my mouth. My mouth didn't feel natural forming those words and attaching them to sound. But the more I said it the more it felt true. I hated my best friend's boyfriend. He made me feel like a petulant child and would mock my relationship to my face. He infuriated me. I tried to articulate how I felt to my best friend but every time I got scared, knowing that this could be what breaks us up. After that night, the night he got too drunk on her birthday and grabbed my wrist so hard, I no longer felt safe in my house. But I also didn't feel safe in the party house either. Not because of the boy I loved, but because of the people who always occupied the living room. I didn't have a place I felt like I could call home in Ashland anymore. He felt like home because he was my best friend. On the 27th we had been together for a year.

MARCH. 
Midsummer came and went and the Mechanical Island was the place to be. Even though the show wasn't good at all, I had a blast. I disliked certain people and their disrespect but I loved my boys. Auditions for the spring shows and I found myself going hard for a part I never imagined I would want. It was like I was facing a fear I didn't even know I had. High School made me dread musical auditions because I knew that I wouldn't get it. But this time, I did. It felt bizarre. The very man who didn't allow me into Acting One was now trusting me to be the lead in the musical. All of the sudden I was cool. I went home for Spring Break and noticed how old my grandma had become while I was gone. My heart ached when she kept saying she didn't know how much she had left in her. I found out I wasn't going to spend my summer on Catalina and my heart broke, just a little bit. I had a meeting with my advisor and it felt as though I was being reprimanded for being successful with casting. I looked at him and wondered why a man who gave me my first opportunity here was now mad that I was getting more opportunities. Now kids, this is what we call FORESHADOWING.


APRIL.
I felt guilty I was succeeding but desperately didn't want to feel guilty. These people didn't know me before, before when I never got the things I worked for. I wished I could walk through the green room with my middle fingers up in the air like I just don't care but I did care. Who cares if mean girls were saying that I didn't deserve things. This is what happens sometimes. But I had to try to keep my composure and not yell, "LOOK HOW HARD I'M WORKING." to them. I hated being in my apartment. That was the place I felt worst about myself. He made me feel like I was the shit on his bike shoe. I would escape and watch different television shows. I would bang on the wall to tell my stupid neighbors to stop partying at 3am on a Tuesday. I went to the gym, ate, class, ate, rehearsal, then sleep. I became a machine.

MAY.
That same advisor/professor began to show me what an asshole he really was. I asked him to challenge me and all he did was treat me different. Different in a bad way. Different in the way that made me feel like they all hated me more. The musical was driving me crazy. I was learning a lot but I didn't feel genuine. I didn't feel like I even resembled a real person. The situation at my apartment got to a breaking point and I finally got up the courage to say what I needed to say about the situation. Unfortunately it was about an thirty minutes before the biggest audition I'd had so far: to get into the Pre-BFA. My mind was stuffed with so much that I went in and for the first time in my whole life, I choked. It was a complete and utter failure. The wait began and ended. My main girl and I got in and that was all I cared about.

JUNE.
The house hunt was in full swing with too many dead ends. Craigslist was my new home page. I only had a few weeks to find a house, move in before I left for LA. I acknowledged that it would have been much more of a headache to handle if I did get the job on Catalina. That didn't make me still crave it any less. We spent the last few weeks together, sleeping in, going on little hikes, avoiding my apartment like the plague. I got an extension on my lease because we couldn't find a place. She moved out and I was sad about it because it really felt like she just didn't give a shit about me anymore. She had picked him, and because he never made an effort to be a nicer person, and not talk to me like I was an idiot, I couldn't ignore it. She moved the last of her stuff out and this wave hit me. I was sad. I cleaned the apartment alone. My sister got dumped by her loser boyfriend who also talked down to me and made me feel like an idiot. I wondered why cool women in my life who I loved dated the biggest jackasses every. A word of June advice: Never date a guy who is not nice to your girl friends or your sister. He will always be bad news. I was heart broken for her because I knew she really saw forever with him. On a whim she flew to Oregon to help me move and to hang out. We drank wine and talked like real friends for one of the first times ever. We moved into The Palace or The California Suite as we call it. 

JULY.
A few days to get settled in the new place. Full of The Walking Dead and excitement/dread of going home. My heart felt too attached to him, and people here. We spent the Forth of July wasted all day, throwing water balloons and drinking more. I couldn't stop holding his hand. We watched the fireworks and after he decided to leave because it would be too hard to say goodbye later. His friends awkwardly stood in my backyard as I weirdly cried because I was going to miss him so much. I drunkenly finished packing at 3am and almost missed my ride to the airport because I didn't set my alarm. Once on the plane I realized I was still drunk. I surprised all of my friends, except for one who helped me plan it. They all arrived at his house at different times and we decided to have "catered surprises" for each person. I felt like a different person but I also felt the same. I loved watching them all talk. We all talked in short hand again and I loved every minute. I had nothing to write about.

AUGUST.
Nannying was sucking all the energy and life out of me. Being with the kids wasn't hard. It was balancing what I believe to be important in raising children and what the parents believe is right. Even if I disagreed with them I couldn't really do anything about it because children are parrots and copy cats. And then I would get fired. I worked at the spa and read Three Sisters thirteen times. When I came home after my shifts I would read the Masha lines out loud. I knew I could get the part. If I tried hard enough. Everyone started leaving with the usual obligatory, "This is my LAST night in town get togethers" which I will always find highly overrated. I left with my dad in the car that I bought.

SEPTEMBER.
I returned to Oregon and reunited with him. When I drove up to his house we hugged and didn't know how to speak anymore. He was thinner and slightly sadder. It was his first summer alone, as in, without his mothers cooking. I began to hear stories of the summer that I didn't hear from him and got increasingly uncomfortable. He put my mind at ease but I was still somewhat confused. I couldn't wait for school to start so I could put my everything into getting cast as Masha and working hard for the BFA. I had my best, most prepared audition and then my best, most prepared callback. Seven of us were called back for Masha and after we did one round of monologues five of them were dismissed. I was one of two left. And it was mine. It was all mine. I knew he wasn't expecting me and I knew he was intrigued. At midnight there were four actors left at callbacks. And I was one of them. But I saw what was happening. He was switching back and forth between me and the other girl for Masha. It was close. I went to the list and my name was not next to hers. I broke my rule about showing emotion at a list. I broke down right then and there. I felt like I was in a daze. I was completely confused. I was mortified that I was crying in front of a piece of paper. But she was on the list so I was half crying tears of joy and tears of confusion. My roommate and I bought a bottle of tequila and I chugged about four shots worth in the parking lot of the liquor store. It didn't make sense. I soon came to find out that a man who I trusted told the director he shouldn't cast me. I was furious. I wanted to throw things at him but he wasn't in the state anymore. She turned 21 and I snuck into the bars and danced and drank and didn't recognize myself.

OCTOBER.
I remained angry. I kept lashing out at people. Maybe because I was sad, maybe because my grandma was in and out of the hospitals and very day I was scared that I would answer a phone call from my mom and that would be it. My movement class frustrated me but also inspired me because I was so bad. My acting class just frustrated me. He was in the black box and had to kiss a prettier girl than me and it felt personal and horrible. Everyone kept looking at me like I was crazy and I felt crazy. How could I not. Somewhere halfway through October I realized we hadn't spent a night apart. Our bodies were so use to curling into each other. And for once, we both wanted it. I began to realize that I wasn't crazy at all and he wanted me just as much as I wanted him. His mom came and we saw the show together. Before the show just the two of us got ice cream and we talked like friends and I realized how much she liked me. I tried to play off that I didn't mind the kiss but it was horrible to see so close. The next weekend his dad came and I could tell once again how much he liked me. After seeing the show and spending time with us I think he felt bad he hadn't been there for him enough. He thanked me. Which was... interesting.

NOVEMBER.
She was amazing in the show. She finally got what she earned and I could not stop smiling thinking about it. I selfishly got teary eyed when they did the scene I did about seven times in callbacks. I still thought I could have done it. I FINALLY turned 21. I was still being mean and felt awkward for feeling sad that no one through me a birthday party. I felt even more dumb when they through me a surprise one. Since when did I become a person who wanted a birthday party? The showcase was going well and I started actually enjoying myself with it. Also my play was coming a long. The thing I couldn't think about was not getting into the BFA. I freaked out in class one day and cried and it was embarrassing. I got a bunch of callbacks and didn't get cast again.  I had to pack for Portland and go spend the weekend with his family for Thanksgiving and as excited as I was, I just wanted to be home. Thanksgiving was a blur of family members and dozens of glasses of wine. It felt nice being so welcomed into the family. The showcase RULED. I finally felt back on my feet. I loved the line, "People fear me even though I have spent my entire existence helping them on their way. I'm happy now, at last, to rest."

DECEMBER.
It seemed as though now everyone else was having their own freak outs about getting into the BFA sequence. I had already had mine and was busy making back up plan after back up plan. A professor I liked told me I was "perfection" and even though it wasn't constructive it made me feel good. We decided to go out to one of the fanciest restaurants in town instead of giving each other presents. It was the night before I left and the night before the list. I was half avoiding going to a party with thirty people who were waiting to find out their fates and half just wanting to spend some quality time alone. One of my "older brothers" was leaving and I knew it was going to be one of the last times I would see him for awhile. We took a shot of Makers together at the bar and he told me I had no where to go but up. The email never happened that night. I was sloppy drunk but I needed to be. The car came for me at 5am and I was still drunk on the plane home. We said goodbye. His face felt warm and comforting. When I arrived in LA I immediately attempted to fall asleep because it felt as though I hadn't slept in a year. I couldn't relax so I went and got a massage and when I woke up after an hour my phone was full of texts and emails. The list was here. But she wasn't on it. I'm still hopeful she will be...The recent night at the bar put many things into perspective. I'm glad I didn't peak in high school. He told me he wanted forever and my heart sank. I knew I couldn't promise that. When I got back to Ashland I felt strange until we talked about it in person. He held me and I cried because I knew in my heart he was going to tell me that it was over the next day. He did. I spent the rest of the day crying and I impulsively bought a ticket back home. I hurt everywhere. My heart aches. I ache. I know its the right thing. It just feels so horrible. 

New Years Resolution: Find myself by myself.