Ahhh don't wanna be

In the past few weeks I've slowly come to the realization that I'm just a normal teenage girl.

My thoughts are so petty. I'm giddy, and scatterbrained. I'm smiling at text messages. I'm throwing caution to the wind!... Not really. But you catch my drift.

In the past few weeks, I've also realized that it's okay to act my age sometimes.

I've always been the one who's "beyond my years". I get along better with old people than with my peers. I'd rather stay home on a friday night and watch Moulin Rouge, or read Leaves of Grass. I usually keep myself inside of this little box, pining over what others have while I watch through the little breathing holes in the cardboard.

Sometimes it's fun to step out of the little box I've made for myself.

You should try it, too.

Rejection.

I seem to have a few people in my life who can't "take a hint." Like, they're pretty alright people, they are just starving for attention that I don't care to give. I'm not trying to be a meanie, it's just the truth.

For example: I met this guy my first day of class freshman year. He was wearing and Iron Man shirt, and he sat directly behind me in Environmental. I wanted to clean other people's teeth for a living. We were both weird, so we hit it off.

We are still friends today. Not super close friends, but friends nonetheless.

The past few days he's been texting me nonstop. I'm not the biggest fan of texting in the first place, although I'd be lying if I said I haven't done my fair share of it lately, so this is extremely annoying. Sometimes he'll ramble on about some forced, deep topic like love or loneliness or something equally cliche, and apologize for it later. I'll be like, "why are you apologizing?" and he'll be like, BLAHBLAHBLAHBLAH. And then I'm like, "?" and he's like, "oh it's just friendly banter."

Then I'm like "-_-".

I just want to say, "hey, I'm busy," or, "hey, I'm kind of involved with someone," or even, "HEY LEAVE ME ALONE I DON'T LOVE YOU LIKE YOU LOVE ME AND I DON'T PLAN ON EVER DOING SO." But I don't want to reject him. Rejection must hurt like hell. Without knowing the definition of the word rejection, one can assume it's negative. Just say it. REJECTION. Ouch.

I'm not going to let little things like that bother me. Almost everything has gone right lately, and the things that haven't are completely overshadowed by my euphoria. You know, my grades might suck, I might get kicked out of Honor Society, my senior project is due in two months and I haven't even started, and I'm torn between two colleges, but who cares?

I have hope for a bright future, love and support from my family, a best friend who is freaking awesome, a nice boy who may or may not have feelings for me, and I woke up this morning after a full night's sleep in a warm bed.

There is no disconnect anymore. This is what I have been missing out on for so long.

A date.

I've never been more comfortable in my own skin. I've never felt happier.

Yesterday, I went on a date with this really nice boy. We went to my favorite restaurant and talked for hours, and browsed the shelves of Barnes and Noble for the second time this weekend. We came home, and he left.

I remembered that he had some resistors in his pocket that I needed for my electronics kit, and called him before he had been gone for too long. He turned around and came back to bring them to me. I ran out when I finally saw his headlights illuminate the driveway. I had this huge knot in my stomach.

He slid out of his car and pulled the little components out of his pocket, placed them in my hand. I said thanks, and gave him a hug.

And then something awkward happened.

I left my arms wrapped around his neck, and was like, "Can I ask you a question?" and he was like, "Sure." Then I said the most embarrassing thing: "Do you care if I kiss you?"

Honestly, I didn't even hear what he said. But I kissed him, and he kissed me.

First kisses are always weird. When you kiss someone new, you have no idea how they kiss, so you just have to roll with it. I was stumbling. All I could think was

ohmygodohmygodohmygodimscrewingthisupsohard.

I walked up my front porch steps in shock, but the best kind.

Happiness

All days are good, but some days are exceptionally good. Today was the latter.

Today, I woke up at 8:33 in the morning. I usually get up at seven or so, shower, eat, and leave for school at eight. I went without food, without a shower, and without studying. I drove 70 miles per hour the whole way there, tried to make it in time for our tech area's final picture together, which was being taken at 8:45. Halfway to the school, I got stuck behind a tractor trailer carrying chickens, driving crazy fast. 45 miles per hour. My driver's side window was down in an attempt to air-dry my hair, Radiohead was blaring, encouraging me to go faster when I was clearly stuck, I could see my breath, and feathers were flying everywhere.

I arrived in the parking lot around 8:52. Needless to say, I missed the picture. I looked like a hot mess with my greasy hair and my grey cardigan over my decimal binary shirt.

We sang in choir. We watched babies and dogs tortured in Psychology, and we watched Shark Tale in Spanish class.

I couldn't stop talking in electronics. I talked about my family, about music and tryouts, about our senior projects, about happiness. I listened to other people talk, and chimed in. We all joked and just chilled out. All the while, my kit sat untouched in front of me.

I felt so elated.

I have a feeling that is going to be at least as great as today. I'll make it so.

Him

I have this dull throb in the back of my head that won't go away. I'm thinking about so many things. All of these thoughts are beating against the sides of my skull trying to get out. I don't even know how to articulate them into words. My load is so heavy, and I can't seem to shed its weight.

I feel like He is the reason why. God. Alpha and Omega. The light of the world. That's what they call Him.

I go to church every week, usually twice a week. I used to love it. I loved basking in the presence of God, bonding with my Christian friends, learning about the life of Jesus Christ, everything about it was great. At the back of my mind, there was always this little nagging voice of doubt, questioning whether this relationship with the Creator of the entire universe was real, but I'd push it aside. Drown out it's voice with prayer and worship.

Now, the doubt has become me. I'd almost consider myself a walking contradiction. I've pretended that my faith is in the right place, that I'm totally fine in church, that I'm not bothered by some of the messages. But I am.

The college I'm planning on attending next year is a Christian college. I don't know what I believe anymore. I've cried out to God so many times to just give me a sign, or answers, and it's fruitless. I've reached out to God, but he hasn't reached out to me. I've cried a lot. I'm left alone cleaning up the messes I've made. I don't know what happened to make me like this.

I want to tell someone everything I feel, but I don't know who, or how, or really even what to say. I hope this doesn't last forever.

Me?

I'm an inherently nervous person. I didn't know this until today. My mom told me about my grandfather's recent trip to the doctor. First, I'll give you a little backup. For a few decades, my grandfather relied on the bottle. My mom, seemingly, had never seen him sober, and I, for a fact, hadn't. A couple years back, he got really sick and gave up drinking altogether. Just stopped, cold turkey. My mom swears it was a miracle, that she prayed the blood of Jesus over him, wept on her knees for his deliverance from the addiction. After he stopped, he was still the same bitter man as he was before. The only difference was the cup ever-present in his hand was one that carried coffee, rather than whiskey. Most recently, he had a non-cancerous brain tumor removed that the doctors said may have possibly been the cause of his rapid mood-swings and anger. To no avail. He is the same, if not worse, than he was before.

So at his appointment today, he yelled and cursed at the secretary in the doctor's office, threw a temper tantrum, if you will, and threatened to leave if he was not helped within fifteen minutes of his arrival.

He is an angry, hateful, mean man, and I'm ashamed.

Mommy dearest also told me today of our family history of nervous breakdowns. Now that's exciting.

I get so stressed I can't sleep at night. Everything thought that I push away throughout the days settles on my chest, and I can hardly breathe. I'm worried that I'll end up bitter, afraid to see what kind of creature I really am.

That's what I fear becoming, but this I know:

I'm too loud, but I'm too shy. I'm too open, but I'm too anti-social. I'm interesting, but boring. I'm apathetic and hypersensitive. I'm stressed out, but I'm laid back. I talk too much, but I don't say enough. I'm so happy, and yet so sad. I am everything. I am nothing at all.

I am going to be confident. I'm not going to be alone forever. I will love others. I will sing loud, and read fiercely. I am going to be.

The line I've drawn between who I am and who I want to be had gotten so blurry, but it's finally starting to come into focus. It feels great.