sorry, me again

hi. I think I have a few more words in me that I wanted to share about high school.

5:45am on August 21, 2012 

perfect make up, curled hair, freshly waxed eyebrows and bright pink skinny jeans;

I was ready by 6:45 even though my ride didn't come until 7:20 and I was worried my hair would go flat. 

6:45am today "15 more minutes" turned into 30

it was raining and my black jeans seemed to fit best, and one coat of mascara and pink Chapstick seemed suitable.

it was my last day of high school and being on time wasn't on the agenda anyways.

May of '13 all A's and my hair still curled in those perfect waves. my hair was to the middle of my back and red lipstick was too scary to wear to school. my brother still came to church and I wrote poetry on my history notes.

November '14 I chopped 8 inches off and my revlon black cherry lipstick was my new favorite; purple but almost black. 

I was also 40 pounds lighter and wore a state championship ring on my middle finger. my brother hadn't been to church in months and I emailed Nelson and begged him to let me into CW2 for 2 weeks.

January '14 he went from just a crush to a love in one night. his mom called me beautiful, his sister called me stunning, his dad said, "welcome to the family" and all he was brave enough to do was let our knees touch. but that was okay.

soon to be June he's promised to finally teach me to drive stick shift and three nights ago he held my hand for the first time in 7 months. He said "I missed you" and the way he pulled me into dance that rainy night was a reminder of how much I loved him.

how much has changed in these past few years of high school,

for the better

for the worst sometimes

in favor and out of favor

for the my own good

and for my own bad

it's changed. 

and I couldn't be more grateful for the heartbreaks, the crowded halls, my horrible chemistry teacher, Chip, Rhonda, Mr. Birrell's forgiveness, the tennis team, Mrs. Jaynes, orchestra, calculus, G2's, and a creative writing class that Nelson let me be in. 

it changed me, 

and I know this time it was for the better.

bittersweet

I've only known Paris as home for half a year, but it seems as if I've known it for my entire life.

the desks, the blank lines, the people;

familiarity sits on the tip of my tongue, but I still haven't seen the Eiffel Tower yet, my French is anything but fluent and macaroons are probably the worst thing I have ever tasted. 

I'm just a tourist, not a native

and my time here is coming to an end.

Nelson just sent out a text saying to please write your last blog post. 

this whole year has been about "lasts"

last homecoming

last football game

last home match

last calculus test

last kiss

last prom

last day of high school

last, last, last.

and when I look back to my first day of sophomore year and how I got completely lost 3 times I think about how I'll be reliving that in college.

I'm ready for change but I'm not

I'm ready to leave but I'm not

I'm ready to say goodbye to people who I've known for almost 6 years but at the same time I'm not.

and I'm almost positive you all feel the same. 

it's all bittersweet; there is no happy medium or middle median,

just the fact that on May 28 it's all over and our lives are just beginning to start. 

so here's to you all:

McKay, Cole, Kailee, Nelson, Micah, Madeline, Abby W, McCall, Natty, Isaac, Mallary, John, Tanner J, Annie, Morgan, Cass, Colby, Tanner T, CJ, Emma, Sam, Jess, Abby N, Hailey, Taylor, Reags, Natalie, Sara, Hannah, Maddi, Megan, and Michael. My creative writing family.

I can't wait to see what you do and who you become; you all hold a special place in my heart. I hope we all can visit Paris together again one day, and instead maybe we can be natives instead of tourists. It's been an honor flying this plane with you. Even though we broke down a couple times and needed to refuel, I've enjoyed every moment. 

saturday

let's talk about saturday night;

pouring rain

memories made 

and songs that were played on may 16th

and how it well surpassed january 11th,

a day I never thought could be beaten. 

we were like day dreams and fantasies

pretty dresses and loose ties,

cherry sodas and fingers intertwined,

curled lips and brown eyes.

we were us

the us we used to be,

and for the first time in 6 months the middle seat in your truck was saved for me and instead of toleration we were adoration.

we were us.

my little hands that fit with your big ones

and your arms that were always meant to be for my shoulders

and my lips on your cheek were smoother.

we were right.

and Saturday night reminded us of that as we stood there in the rain

chanting names and running away from the police.

we were us.

and "us" is all I've wanted forever;

so shoutout to Saturday night and rainstorms,

thanks for letting it happen.

irises

sorry for love yet again.

it's just what hurts.

I always thought you had brown eyes.

they were soft and deep,

kind of like your soul and a little bit how you spoke.

they defined you and me

and the proximity 

of our fingers intertwined.

I missed them often

but they were always familiar;

always immutable

always brown.

but last night you looked right into me

and when I looked back,

I saw hazel

something I'd never seen in you.

I had known you for three and a half years and never saw that obvious green tint that blended between the brown I had always loved.

maybe brown was always for me,

but last night when I saw green I knew it was only for her.

your eyes became strangers and in five slow seconds,

my heart broke its last piece;

the last shard still standing became shattered, and it felt like my arteries couldn't keep pumping the last ounce of blood back out into my veins.

I cried

but the rain covered up my tears;

the sky knew I didn't want you to see.

you left me with bare palms and a weakening pulse

wet hair, wet clothes

and my wet eyes,

they longed for brown when I got my last glimpse;

but all I saw was hazel.

that green tint that blended between the edges of brown.

a hard, shallow,

non-immutable,

unfamiliar

hazel.

video

sorry I edited just a wee bit. I had some time. 

also, I performed this on April 21, the day before my birthday. and 18 isnt as scary as I thought. so here I am, slammin in the canyon.

words we swallowed

it was warm and june;

the type of day when 'I love you's' and 'I hate you's' meant the same thing and dandelions were more that just weeds.

we came at dusk and didn't leave till dawn;

our moms were mad and our words weren't much

but our eyes said everything,

except for what we both needed to hear.

our tongues weren't brave enough,

our hearts weren't brave enough,

not even our eyes were brave enough

and perhaps that's why my wounds still sting and your middle seat is filled.

people call us complexity

we want to be called clarity 

but we both know clarity doesn't start with a plus-one and blue eyes;

it starts with you-plus-me

and dark green pine trees

just like the ones in june.

if only we had choked instead of swallowed that warm day somewhere in between dusk and dawn.

'I love you' would've come out sooner.

eat, sleep, think, repeat.

spring break comes with a routine:

eat, think, eat, sleep, think, eat, think, think, think

think

sleep

repeat.

there is too much time for my mind to wander, and call me crazy but I would rather read my language textbook than be thinking.

I've looked everywhere for the off switch 

so I could listen to the waves crash without hearing the faint sound of your soft voices echoing with the whitewater.

it's replaying in my mind like a 

scratched cd;

his weak smile and sparks in his eyes; a heartbreaking sense of longing and lust with you;

and the scary part is that

they both make sense.

but my lungs are growing weak from the exhaustion of running away from what I want most,

and my heart is confused on the subject of friendship.

the empty feeling is becoming constant and I want it to leave,

but I want it to leave the right way.

so, to love with pain and longing

or to love unfaithfully;

because no matter how much I love him I will always have the thought of you in the back of my broken mind

wishing every kiss, every touch

every conversation

was with you. 

it's a sick disease 

and unfortunately I cannot imagine the day where I will finally be able to say,

"I don't love you anymore"

maybe someday you'll take a good look into my eyes

and see past the thick layer of whatever was holding you back and think, "it's always been her"

because I know for myself 

it'll always be you.