Day 29: The person you want to tell everything to, but are too afraid.
Dear the person I want to tell everything to, but am too afraid,
I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you what I'm thinking all the time, all the time, and share everything with you and bounce it off you and have no holds barred, but we wouldn't be able to function if I did that. And so I don't. You'd hate me all the time. It's not that I don't share things with you, it's that I know you really well.
-me.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Both of my letters today will most likely be lame.
Day 28: Someone that changed your life.
Dear someone that changed my life,
This letter is hard because there are so many people I could write it to. Because I kinda feel like everyone in my life has kinda changed it in some way. Shaped the person I am. So maybe I'll just write little bits to everyone.
You came into my life at a time when I could've gone anywhere. And I credit you for a lot of the direction I decided to take. Whether that was just because of being in your class to begin with and the people who were there or actually you, it's still true. The lessons you taught me--to free myself of the worries and just be, to be passionate about something and to care, to laugh, to be creative (that that's ok)--all of it was exactly what I needed then. And I couldn't have gone on to become what I am now without that push. It was what made me settle in so that I could move on to focus on the other stuff later. I know it's cliche, but what you taught me stuck with me. I can't exactly quote things you'd say or anything or pin down exactly what I learned, but it was really about the experience as a whole. Without it, I don't know who I'd be. I know we aren't super super close and talk all the time, but for the reasons above, I'd probably list you among my greatest influences. I really can't quantify it in words, but I respect you and thank you.
You came into my life when I was ready, and not until then. You were diffferent. I knew you'd be more than a fleeting crush. And you were. Despite all the obstacles (gosh, can you remember the very beginning? How far away...) we got there. You taught me everything. Literally, everything ( please don't make me relive embarassing memories). How to be a good partner in a relationship, how to communicate, how to let go a little bit more, compromise, what I need and what others need. Through all the ups and downs of us, you taught me more than I ever thought. And you helped me learn about myself. You helped make me into the more confident, mature, and capable person that I am today. Looking back on things so far, I think you were one of the biggest turns in my life. One of the singlemost changing things. Without you happening, I'd be someone so, so completely different. A lot fo that change is wrapped up in you, and you and me, and everything we've been through together and apart. Thanks.
And you. You changed me too. Again, you came into my life when I wasn't expecting it at all. But probably when I needed it most. I didn't think I was ready, but you were the push I needed to find something good again. I didn't have the strength, but you did. And I needed it. Like I said before, without you happening, my life would be so, so radically different. You helped take me away from running in circles and show me something new. And in that, you showed me a new side of myself that I could never have discovered on my own. You helped show me how I could be a different person. How I could have good parts I never thought I could have before. Everyday, I think you make me better. Thank you.
There are so many more people I could talk about, but these three are big ones. Big turning points. Who I think have shaped me in ways I've only started to understand. Thanks for helping to make me who I am. Cause you really have.
Love,
Lauren.
Dear someone that changed my life,
This letter is hard because there are so many people I could write it to. Because I kinda feel like everyone in my life has kinda changed it in some way. Shaped the person I am. So maybe I'll just write little bits to everyone.
You came into my life at a time when I could've gone anywhere. And I credit you for a lot of the direction I decided to take. Whether that was just because of being in your class to begin with and the people who were there or actually you, it's still true. The lessons you taught me--to free myself of the worries and just be, to be passionate about something and to care, to laugh, to be creative (that that's ok)--all of it was exactly what I needed then. And I couldn't have gone on to become what I am now without that push. It was what made me settle in so that I could move on to focus on the other stuff later. I know it's cliche, but what you taught me stuck with me. I can't exactly quote things you'd say or anything or pin down exactly what I learned, but it was really about the experience as a whole. Without it, I don't know who I'd be. I know we aren't super super close and talk all the time, but for the reasons above, I'd probably list you among my greatest influences. I really can't quantify it in words, but I respect you and thank you.
You came into my life when I was ready, and not until then. You were diffferent. I knew you'd be more than a fleeting crush. And you were. Despite all the obstacles (gosh, can you remember the very beginning? How far away...) we got there. You taught me everything. Literally, everything ( please don't make me relive embarassing memories). How to be a good partner in a relationship, how to communicate, how to let go a little bit more, compromise, what I need and what others need. Through all the ups and downs of us, you taught me more than I ever thought. And you helped me learn about myself. You helped make me into the more confident, mature, and capable person that I am today. Looking back on things so far, I think you were one of the biggest turns in my life. One of the singlemost changing things. Without you happening, I'd be someone so, so completely different. A lot fo that change is wrapped up in you, and you and me, and everything we've been through together and apart. Thanks.
And you. You changed me too. Again, you came into my life when I wasn't expecting it at all. But probably when I needed it most. I didn't think I was ready, but you were the push I needed to find something good again. I didn't have the strength, but you did. And I needed it. Like I said before, without you happening, my life would be so, so radically different. You helped take me away from running in circles and show me something new. And in that, you showed me a new side of myself that I could never have discovered on my own. You helped show me how I could be a different person. How I could have good parts I never thought I could have before. Everyday, I think you make me better. Thank you.
There are so many more people I could talk about, but these three are big ones. Big turning points. Who I think have shaped me in ways I've only started to understand. Thanks for helping to make me who I am. Cause you really have.
Love,
Lauren.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
I can write a great letter.
Day 27: The friendliest person you've ever known for only one day.
I am SO excited about this one because I can write a really good one this time. And I know exactly who I'm going to write to. And I've been looking forward to this one since the very beginning.
Dear the friendliest person I've ever known for only one day,
I wasn't ever expecting to meet you, and I wasn't ever expecting to have the conversation we did, but it's one of those memories I look back on and can't help but smile. I don't even know your name. But I think that's what makes it so beautiful to me.
I got on the plane after a 5-hour layover or something in Salt Lake. My seat was in the back, the very back, right next to you. A girl who looked about my age. We started the small talk that's customary with the person you're expected to share a small space with for several hours, but unlike the other conversations, we didn't stop talking. Where I expected to be reading after boarding and take-off, we kept talking. I didn't even pick up my book.
We talked about everything. Like teenage girls. I bet the people around us were mentally (or actually, I don't know because the back of the plane isn't exactly conducive to seeing...) rolling their eyes at the subjects we'd talk about and how excited we'd get about certain things. And probably how we were disturbing them.
I told you about my classes at IU, and you told me about yours at BYU in Idaho (that's right, isn't it? I'm pretty sure.) Where we were going (me to see a boy I hadn't seen in a long time, and never at his new home, you home for Thanksgiving with your family in San Diego, the first time you'd see your dogs since you'd left for school in August). I couldn't imagine going to school so far away. We talked about our lives, our families. What our schools were like, what our friends were like. Music we liked. I wish I could remember that band you told me I'd like. I'd really like to listen. As we flew, I got more nervous (because it was finally happening, because we were so close). We talked for the whole flight. It was longer than I thought. What, like 2-3 hours? 2? I'm not sure.
We landed, and we talked through the terminal. I was so jittery. I told you how stupid it was for me to be nervous, how I tried to find his face through the crowd at the top of the escalator. (Intimate things?) Then we were there. We said rushed goodbyes as you ran off to your family and your Thanksgiving and I ran into a hug and something I'd been waiting for. I didn't even ask your name.
One time, I tried to find you on Facebook. Just browsing. I don't know how I'd ever find you, but eh. I looked for curiousity. It's just such a surreal moment in my mind. Like the way the world works. Two strangers bumping into each other and sharing something transitory (in every sense), but sharing their lives, and then everything just fading away. We were so different and had so many things in common. But then we both walked away without really a second thought.
Well, I guess I'm giving it a second thought. Because it was just such a...moment that I feel like it has to mean something. Kinda one of those miracle moments, but not at a life-changing, drastic moment or anything. I guess it's just how the world works. But hey, just so you know, that moment meant a lot to me.
Thanks for the great conversation and for letting me in to your life even though you didn't know me. (And still don't, I guess, because you don't know my name either). And for making that plane ride better.
-Lauren Sedam (see? now you know it.)
I am SO excited about this one because I can write a really good one this time. And I know exactly who I'm going to write to. And I've been looking forward to this one since the very beginning.
Dear the friendliest person I've ever known for only one day,
I wasn't ever expecting to meet you, and I wasn't ever expecting to have the conversation we did, but it's one of those memories I look back on and can't help but smile. I don't even know your name. But I think that's what makes it so beautiful to me.
I got on the plane after a 5-hour layover or something in Salt Lake. My seat was in the back, the very back, right next to you. A girl who looked about my age. We started the small talk that's customary with the person you're expected to share a small space with for several hours, but unlike the other conversations, we didn't stop talking. Where I expected to be reading after boarding and take-off, we kept talking. I didn't even pick up my book.
We talked about everything. Like teenage girls. I bet the people around us were mentally (or actually, I don't know because the back of the plane isn't exactly conducive to seeing...) rolling their eyes at the subjects we'd talk about and how excited we'd get about certain things. And probably how we were disturbing them.
I told you about my classes at IU, and you told me about yours at BYU in Idaho (that's right, isn't it? I'm pretty sure.) Where we were going (me to see a boy I hadn't seen in a long time, and never at his new home, you home for Thanksgiving with your family in San Diego, the first time you'd see your dogs since you'd left for school in August). I couldn't imagine going to school so far away. We talked about our lives, our families. What our schools were like, what our friends were like. Music we liked. I wish I could remember that band you told me I'd like. I'd really like to listen. As we flew, I got more nervous (because it was finally happening, because we were so close). We talked for the whole flight. It was longer than I thought. What, like 2-3 hours? 2? I'm not sure.
We landed, and we talked through the terminal. I was so jittery. I told you how stupid it was for me to be nervous, how I tried to find his face through the crowd at the top of the escalator. (Intimate things?) Then we were there. We said rushed goodbyes as you ran off to your family and your Thanksgiving and I ran into a hug and something I'd been waiting for. I didn't even ask your name.
One time, I tried to find you on Facebook. Just browsing. I don't know how I'd ever find you, but eh. I looked for curiousity. It's just such a surreal moment in my mind. Like the way the world works. Two strangers bumping into each other and sharing something transitory (in every sense), but sharing their lives, and then everything just fading away. We were so different and had so many things in common. But then we both walked away without really a second thought.
Well, I guess I'm giving it a second thought. Because it was just such a...moment that I feel like it has to mean something. Kinda one of those miracle moments, but not at a life-changing, drastic moment or anything. I guess it's just how the world works. But hey, just so you know, that moment meant a lot to me.
Thanks for the great conversation and for letting me in to your life even though you didn't know me. (And still don't, I guess, because you don't know my name either). And for making that plane ride better.
-Lauren Sedam (see? now you know it.)
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Day 26: The last person you made a pinky promise to.
Dear the last person I made a pinky promise to,
I don't remember you. Or the promise. I'm sorry. I hope I kept it. Lindsay wanted to make a pinky promise to me the other night when I told her this one was coming up, but I told her no. I think that's kinda cheating. Maybe it was Gabe, long ago, during the reign of Team Evil. Or maybe it was sooner than that.
Anyway, Stamp It.
Love,
Me.
Dear the last person I made a pinky promise to,
I don't remember you. Or the promise. I'm sorry. I hope I kept it. Lindsay wanted to make a pinky promise to me the other night when I told her this one was coming up, but I told her no. I think that's kinda cheating. Maybe it was Gabe, long ago, during the reign of Team Evil. Or maybe it was sooner than that.
Anyway, Stamp It.
Love,
Me.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
Day 25: A person you know is going through the worst of times.
Dear a person I know is going through the worst of times,
Hi. I hate to assume you're going through the "worst of times," because I realize I don't really know you outside of Internet life and a few brief encounters. But, well. I guess a few extra thoughts here and there don't really hurt, huh? So.
1. I'm sorry this is how your life turned out. I'm pretty sure it's not how you saw it. But sometimes life isn't how you imagine. And you just have to take it and run with it and stop telling everyone every little detail because it's actually really badly reflective of yourself (and you'd probably have a snotty retort for that, but I'm cool with it). Do what you want. Eh, maybe it's how I see things, but don't be afraid to let the guard down a bit and chill. You're strong, though, I think. And I know you'll be just fine.
2. You're just angsty. I don't (really. I DON'T) think your life is that bad. You can do this. Many people why worse off than you do much much more. I think you're just still looking for you.. I hope you find it. But you will. I just think it takes time. I kind of imagine it like that moment in Forrest Gump when Lt. Dan makes his peace with God and is swimming in the ocean with the clouds and sun. Like that. I hope you find that, and find happiness.
3. I really do feel for you. Because there is nothing anyone can say to make it better. To fix the pain you feel. And I'm sorry, it will dull, but it will probably never leave you. You've been dealt a lot of blows, I think. But you're kind of amazing to me (from a distance) at how you've taken it and the relatively normal, ok person you've become. In that, you really are an inspiration to me. I wish there was something I or anyone could say to make this better, but I think it's just another burden you'll have to figure out how to carry (and still be able to walk through the rest). I have faith, though. You're amazing, plain as that. Keep walkin.
Love, Lauren.
Dear a person I know is going through the worst of times,
Hi. I hate to assume you're going through the "worst of times," because I realize I don't really know you outside of Internet life and a few brief encounters. But, well. I guess a few extra thoughts here and there don't really hurt, huh? So.
1. I'm sorry this is how your life turned out. I'm pretty sure it's not how you saw it. But sometimes life isn't how you imagine. And you just have to take it and run with it and stop telling everyone every little detail because it's actually really badly reflective of yourself (and you'd probably have a snotty retort for that, but I'm cool with it). Do what you want. Eh, maybe it's how I see things, but don't be afraid to let the guard down a bit and chill. You're strong, though, I think. And I know you'll be just fine.
2. You're just angsty. I don't (really. I DON'T) think your life is that bad. You can do this. Many people why worse off than you do much much more. I think you're just still looking for you.. I hope you find it. But you will. I just think it takes time. I kind of imagine it like that moment in Forrest Gump when Lt. Dan makes his peace with God and is swimming in the ocean with the clouds and sun. Like that. I hope you find that, and find happiness.
3. I really do feel for you. Because there is nothing anyone can say to make it better. To fix the pain you feel. And I'm sorry, it will dull, but it will probably never leave you. You've been dealt a lot of blows, I think. But you're kind of amazing to me (from a distance) at how you've taken it and the relatively normal, ok person you've become. In that, you really are an inspiration to me. I wish there was something I or anyone could say to make this better, but I think it's just another burden you'll have to figure out how to carry (and still be able to walk through the rest). I have faith, though. You're amazing, plain as that. Keep walkin.
Love, Lauren.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Who's actually reading this? Just the people I suspect, or...?
Day 24: The person that gave you your favorite memory.
Dear the person that gave me my favorite memory,
Of all the letters, I think I find this one most impossible to write. But I will attempt to do so anyway. I've been thinking about this one for weeks, trying to pin down one memory that is it, but I can't. It kinda breaks down into categories. A lot (or most) or them belong to either you or you, but of course, you'd know that. I remind you of them all the time. So. I'll just go with the ones that stand out, and write it to no one and everyone.
There was that time after I got my tonsils out and you gave me that clear plastic airplane that you could see the gears moving in when you moved it. That's one of my earliest ones. The magic forest, that one is a beautiful, golden sliver in my mind.
There's a that time (or a series of them) at the middle school and what sticks out is what different places in our lives we were at in all of them, but how they're always the same.
There's inflatable giraffes and fresh grapes (and jelly) and bath tubs and biscuits and gravy.
There's standing on the top of the swing set and screaming for ice cream and sitting in the top of a tree and platforms of peril.
There's waking up in pale sunlight and being with you and looking out as the sun rose over the mountains and everything else. And burritos, and Dairy Queen and walking the pier, an eating junk food and hugging close on the tight bed, and the arches in the park that glowed orange at night and thinking that it was finally here, and that it all stretched out before us.
There's long sleeve t-shirts and dirt and warm apples and hay and elephant ears and cider slushies.
There's bathroom dances and busted teeth.
There's waking up in the hot, sticky summer sunshine after staying up til 4 talking about mistaken stances on love and listening to the same songs over and over.
There's that time by the garage door over fall break before a football game and awkward exchanges and awkward dad and you'll never, never let me forget it. That's ok, because I'd never want to. This one might be my favorite. It really might. Or the apple one.
There's a long, dark night in June and feeling young and alive and free and a long movie that we loved that kept playing and never feeling closer to anyone.
There's a cold spring on the beach and serious talks and a shared jacket.
There's bounding into my room as the sun came up and jumping on my bed. My room all pale yellow. And telling me that you couldn't let your best friend feel like nothing.
Mmmm, there are a lot. I hope you know which ones are yours. And thanks. These are the things I write about, and the things that I look back and and feel that warm, happy glow. And, you know, the things that make me, me.
Love,
Lauren.
Dear the person that gave me my favorite memory,
Of all the letters, I think I find this one most impossible to write. But I will attempt to do so anyway. I've been thinking about this one for weeks, trying to pin down one memory that is it, but I can't. It kinda breaks down into categories. A lot (or most) or them belong to either you or you, but of course, you'd know that. I remind you of them all the time. So. I'll just go with the ones that stand out, and write it to no one and everyone.
There was that time after I got my tonsils out and you gave me that clear plastic airplane that you could see the gears moving in when you moved it. That's one of my earliest ones. The magic forest, that one is a beautiful, golden sliver in my mind.
There's a that time (or a series of them) at the middle school and what sticks out is what different places in our lives we were at in all of them, but how they're always the same.
There's inflatable giraffes and fresh grapes (and jelly) and bath tubs and biscuits and gravy.
There's standing on the top of the swing set and screaming for ice cream and sitting in the top of a tree and platforms of peril.
There's waking up in pale sunlight and being with you and looking out as the sun rose over the mountains and everything else. And burritos, and Dairy Queen and walking the pier, an eating junk food and hugging close on the tight bed, and the arches in the park that glowed orange at night and thinking that it was finally here, and that it all stretched out before us.
There's long sleeve t-shirts and dirt and warm apples and hay and elephant ears and cider slushies.
There's bathroom dances and busted teeth.
There's waking up in the hot, sticky summer sunshine after staying up til 4 talking about mistaken stances on love and listening to the same songs over and over.
There's that time by the garage door over fall break before a football game and awkward exchanges and awkward dad and you'll never, never let me forget it. That's ok, because I'd never want to. This one might be my favorite. It really might. Or the apple one.
There's a long, dark night in June and feeling young and alive and free and a long movie that we loved that kept playing and never feeling closer to anyone.
There's a cold spring on the beach and serious talks and a shared jacket.
There's bounding into my room as the sun came up and jumping on my bed. My room all pale yellow. And telling me that you couldn't let your best friend feel like nothing.
Mmmm, there are a lot. I hope you know which ones are yours. And thanks. These are the things I write about, and the things that I look back and and feel that warm, happy glow. And, you know, the things that make me, me.
Love,
Lauren.
I will probably miss tomorrow's too..but I'll make it up.
Day 23: The last person you kissed.
Dear the last person I kissed,
Well. Here we are. When I started this, I wasn't sure how I'd feel about this letter. I guess I kind of started it because of you. Well, because of you and me and how you were making me see myself. And how my life felt kinda out of order.
But I'm glad that this is where we are as this letter comes around. We're in a good place. A great place. And we've worked really hard to be here together. It's taken sacrifice and adjustment and listening and talking and really digging in and figuring each other out. It doesn't seem like a good thing, cause people think relationships aren't good unless they come easily, naturally. But it is. Because in real life, relationships take work. And we're definitely stronger for it.
You weren't expected. At all. I never thought I was in the right place to be with someone new, and there you were. And suddenly, it wasn't quite so scary anymore. It almost wasn't a choice. But I guess that's how things are sometimes when they need to be; they just happen. But I'm glad that it did. You've taught me how to have a whole new kind of relationship. I don't know if that's necessarily good or bad, but it was needed. You've let me see how I am in a different way, date in a different way, interact in a different way, make less of the same mistakes and make msitakes in a different way.
We've been through a lot, but whatever happens, know that I needed this relationship. And I needed you. I needed you to challenge me in ways I haven't yet been challenged, to make me experience things I have not yet experienced, and to teach me skills for future relationships that I have not yet mastered. (The memories, the good times, the connection...that's all bonus, I guess...) No matter what happens in the future (because, as we say, if/when we break up...) it's been worth it.
So. Here's to our last kiss. To all the times we've spent together, good and bad. And here, hopefully, is to our next.
Love,
The name in the dust.
PS: At first I thought we'd be real low key and chill, but you kinda evolved, huh? Well. I think that's for the best. What needed to happen. But, just so you know, when I look back on our time together (all whopping 4 months of it, I know...) I only think of the fun stuff.
Dear the last person I kissed,
Well. Here we are. When I started this, I wasn't sure how I'd feel about this letter. I guess I kind of started it because of you. Well, because of you and me and how you were making me see myself. And how my life felt kinda out of order.
But I'm glad that this is where we are as this letter comes around. We're in a good place. A great place. And we've worked really hard to be here together. It's taken sacrifice and adjustment and listening and talking and really digging in and figuring each other out. It doesn't seem like a good thing, cause people think relationships aren't good unless they come easily, naturally. But it is. Because in real life, relationships take work. And we're definitely stronger for it.
You weren't expected. At all. I never thought I was in the right place to be with someone new, and there you were. And suddenly, it wasn't quite so scary anymore. It almost wasn't a choice. But I guess that's how things are sometimes when they need to be; they just happen. But I'm glad that it did. You've taught me how to have a whole new kind of relationship. I don't know if that's necessarily good or bad, but it was needed. You've let me see how I am in a different way, date in a different way, interact in a different way, make less of the same mistakes and make msitakes in a different way.
We've been through a lot, but whatever happens, know that I needed this relationship. And I needed you. I needed you to challenge me in ways I haven't yet been challenged, to make me experience things I have not yet experienced, and to teach me skills for future relationships that I have not yet mastered. (The memories, the good times, the connection...that's all bonus, I guess...) No matter what happens in the future (because, as we say, if/when we break up...) it's been worth it.
So. Here's to our last kiss. To all the times we've spent together, good and bad. And here, hopefully, is to our next.
Love,
The name in the dust.
PS: At first I thought we'd be real low key and chill, but you kinda evolved, huh? Well. I think that's for the best. What needed to happen. But, just so you know, when I look back on our time together (all whopping 4 months of it, I know...) I only think of the fun stuff.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Day 22: Someone you want to give a second chance.
Dear someone I want to give a second chance to,
I've kinda touched on this subject before, I guess, but I'll do it again.
For almost everyone, I will give you a second chance. I'll give you a third. I'll give you as many as it takes. I will. Maybe I'm naive, maybe I'm stupid, maybe I trust too much, maybe I'll get hurt. But I still do it. I don't really know why I do it (sitting here thinking about it...), but I think it's just because I believe that people deserve second chances. Nobody is all bad. People make mistakes. They regret them. I like to give them a chance to redeem themself and stay in my life. I have no problem with forgive and forget.
Of course, there does come a point where, for myself, I have to stop it. Because I can't just let myself be abused, and I can't let someone who is poisonous take over my life. So. I guess then, I do cut people out. (I feel bad about the ones that've gone that way, though.)
I don't know. I guess it's all about timing. The timing of where you are in your life with where I am in mine. You'll get your chance when everything falls into place. When you're ready, and I'm ready, it'll happen. Things will click. Or it won't, and we'll drift apart. But of course, that's another letter.
For now, though, it's all in the past. If you want to, we'll start fresh. I mean, that's what I'm thinking now, at least. And I guess my message here, for all of you, is that I'm here. I'm not saying things will go back to wherever we'd left them before the first chance ran out, but we can start working on it. I'm here, and the chance is out on the table. Whenever you're ready.
Maybe that's not a good thing, ultimately, or a good way to be, I guess...but I don't know myself any other way.
Ready when you are,
-Lauren
Dear someone I want to give a second chance to,
I've kinda touched on this subject before, I guess, but I'll do it again.
For almost everyone, I will give you a second chance. I'll give you a third. I'll give you as many as it takes. I will. Maybe I'm naive, maybe I'm stupid, maybe I trust too much, maybe I'll get hurt. But I still do it. I don't really know why I do it (sitting here thinking about it...), but I think it's just because I believe that people deserve second chances. Nobody is all bad. People make mistakes. They regret them. I like to give them a chance to redeem themself and stay in my life. I have no problem with forgive and forget.
Of course, there does come a point where, for myself, I have to stop it. Because I can't just let myself be abused, and I can't let someone who is poisonous take over my life. So. I guess then, I do cut people out. (I feel bad about the ones that've gone that way, though.)
I don't know. I guess it's all about timing. The timing of where you are in your life with where I am in mine. You'll get your chance when everything falls into place. When you're ready, and I'm ready, it'll happen. Things will click. Or it won't, and we'll drift apart. But of course, that's another letter.
For now, though, it's all in the past. If you want to, we'll start fresh. I mean, that's what I'm thinking now, at least. And I guess my message here, for all of you, is that I'm here. I'm not saying things will go back to wherever we'd left them before the first chance ran out, but we can start working on it. I'm here, and the chance is out on the table. Whenever you're ready.
Maybe that's not a good thing, ultimately, or a good way to be, I guess...but I don't know myself any other way.
Ready when you are,
-Lauren
Friday, July 23, 2010
While my blueberry muffins are in the oven...
Day 21: Someone you judged by their (his/her) first impression.
Dear someone I judged by his/her first impression,
I really did. I thought I had you down. I really didn't even give it a second thought. You were the person I met freshman year, and I never looked back. But then I did, and I saw how much you've changed. Every day I'm amazed by that journey. I love learning more about it, what turns you took, who shaped you, how you changed. And who you were before, back then, when I thought I knew you. Because, obviously, people are too complex to truly understand at first impression. I question whether I truly know anyone at all.
Every day you surprise me (is that the correct every day? everyday? everyday is an adjective or adverb, right?). You literally amaze me every day (I think that is right because every modifies day and everyday is like an everyday occurance. I've learned this many times and if I were less lazy I'd look it up. But this is my blog, my rules.). By how deep your thoughts are, what you think about life and death and people and issues, your talents, your dreams. God, you're talented. I don't even think you realize it anymore. But when you play for me, I can't help but be capitvated. The way your mind works.... It's not at all like mine, and that's good. I think that's part of the draw. My drive to understand you, the way you think, really get in there and understand everything about who you are as a person. You're so much more complex than you let on, so quiet...so...inside yourself? And that interests me. I feel like I've never really known you at all, and every time is just like scratching the surface. And I never get bored.
I didn't look back the first time because I thought I had you pegged. From freshman year to freshman year. But I'm glad I did. Because it's been infinitely worth it.
Love love,
Lauren
Dear someone I judged by his/her first impression,
I really did. I thought I had you down. I really didn't even give it a second thought. You were the person I met freshman year, and I never looked back. But then I did, and I saw how much you've changed. Every day I'm amazed by that journey. I love learning more about it, what turns you took, who shaped you, how you changed. And who you were before, back then, when I thought I knew you. Because, obviously, people are too complex to truly understand at first impression. I question whether I truly know anyone at all.
Every day you surprise me (is that the correct every day? everyday? everyday is an adjective or adverb, right?). You literally amaze me every day (I think that is right because every modifies day and everyday is like an everyday occurance. I've learned this many times and if I were less lazy I'd look it up. But this is my blog, my rules.). By how deep your thoughts are, what you think about life and death and people and issues, your talents, your dreams. God, you're talented. I don't even think you realize it anymore. But when you play for me, I can't help but be capitvated. The way your mind works.... It's not at all like mine, and that's good. I think that's part of the draw. My drive to understand you, the way you think, really get in there and understand everything about who you are as a person. You're so much more complex than you let on, so quiet...so...inside yourself? And that interests me. I feel like I've never really known you at all, and every time is just like scratching the surface. And I never get bored.
I didn't look back the first time because I thought I had you pegged. From freshman year to freshman year. But I'm glad I did. Because it's been infinitely worth it.
Love love,
Lauren
Thursday, July 22, 2010
#2
Day 20: (Wow, Day 20!) The person who broke your heart the hardest.
Dear the person who broke my heart the hardest,
Please refer to letter #12.
Love,
Me.
Dear the person who broke my heart the hardest,
Please refer to letter #12.
Love,
Me.
Not really in the mood for this tonight.
On a not-related-to-letters note, I think that sometimes when people say they really like something, (as in...personality, a hat, etc.) sometimes it's just because that thing is SUPER prominent/potent, and they don't actually know HOW to react but just feel that they should. They don't know how they feel, so they say they like it. It might actually be something that really bothers them, but they haven't had time to figure that out yet. Or maybe they have and they're lying. Just a thought.
Now.
Day 19: Someone who pesters your mind (good or bad).
Dear someone who pesters my mind (good or bad),
This is probably about the epitome of you, and I've told you that many times. There's just a lot of memories, and a lot triggers it. It's hard to shake. Hmm. What else is there to say? I hope you're well. That's my thought of you today.
-Lauren
Now.
Day 19: Someone who pesters your mind (good or bad).
Dear someone who pesters my mind (good or bad),
This is probably about the epitome of you, and I've told you that many times. There's just a lot of memories, and a lot triggers it. It's hard to shake. Hmm. What else is there to say? I hope you're well. That's my thought of you today.
-Lauren
Today will be tomorrow.
It already is tomorrow, but I just thought I'd let you know. I'll catch up with a day of two of the letters I don't wanna write the most. Now you're intrigued.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Day 18: The person you wish you could be.
Dear the person I wish I could be,
I've thought about this one, and I guess there's a lot I could type here. How the person I want to be scares me. How I'm afraid I'll never get to be that person. That maybe it's impossible. Who the person I want to be is. How she treats other people. How she loves. What she believes. Who she lets in. What she achieves.
I could go in to all that, and tell you all exactly who I want to be, but I'm not really sure of it because it only really boils down to this: The person I want to be is happy.
That's it. That's all I want. I'm not sure yet in what form that will come. Marriage, writing, editing, working at a grocery store, being a great friend, I don't know. I don't care.
So. Person I want to be, instead of getting trapped in my flaws and hyperventilating about my failures, I will look forward to you. Because I know that in the end, I will be happy. No matter what.
Love,
Lauren.
Dear the person I wish I could be,
I've thought about this one, and I guess there's a lot I could type here. How the person I want to be scares me. How I'm afraid I'll never get to be that person. That maybe it's impossible. Who the person I want to be is. How she treats other people. How she loves. What she believes. Who she lets in. What she achieves.
I could go in to all that, and tell you all exactly who I want to be, but I'm not really sure of it because it only really boils down to this: The person I want to be is happy.
That's it. That's all I want. I'm not sure yet in what form that will come. Marriage, writing, editing, working at a grocery store, being a great friend, I don't know. I don't care.
So. Person I want to be, instead of getting trapped in my flaws and hyperventilating about my failures, I will look forward to you. Because I know that in the end, I will be happy. No matter what.
Love,
Lauren.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Day 17: A person from your childhood.
Dear a person from my childhood,
Being a kid is funny. All it takes to be friends is back yards that connect or living across the street, a mutual love of catching fish and crawdads, playing N64 and dress up, being invited to each other's birthday parties and sometimes vacations.
Being an adult (I use the term losely. I guess I mean being older. 16, 17, 18, 30.) is different. We think more. We judge more. We disqualify more. I'm not sure why.
I think it's just a part of growing up. Back then, it was all about fun and conveinence and learning. Learning not only how to do things, but things like how to socialize and how to care about other people and how to make it work. It's like learning how to share. And also, in that, I think you probably begin to learn who you are and who other people really are, and it becomes more complicated than just being back yard neighbors. You develop into you and sometimes that doesn't click with the them your best friend is growing up to be.
But that's ok. It's how it goes. Sometimes it works that you got lucky and guessed right to someone that ultimately developed to be like you, but other times you just have to be thankful for tree climbing and ice-cream-man -creaming and slip-n-sliding and lemonade-standing.
And I am. Thanks for being the best friends any kid could've asked for. Thanks for playing into my imagination, running wild with me, sharing secrets, helping me not be bored after school, coming to my birthday parties, seeing the ocean for the first time with me, planting silk flowers in the ground, phone calls, secrets, clubs, scrapes, teaching me how to be a friend, growing up with me, and helping me figure out the person I was to become.
We might be really different (or, you know, not even that much), and we might've gone different ways, but you helped make my childhood as happy as it was, and I couldn't think of a way to make it any better.
Thanks.
Lauren.
Dear a person from my childhood,
Being a kid is funny. All it takes to be friends is back yards that connect or living across the street, a mutual love of catching fish and crawdads, playing N64 and dress up, being invited to each other's birthday parties and sometimes vacations.
Being an adult (I use the term losely. I guess I mean being older. 16, 17, 18, 30.) is different. We think more. We judge more. We disqualify more. I'm not sure why.
I think it's just a part of growing up. Back then, it was all about fun and conveinence and learning. Learning not only how to do things, but things like how to socialize and how to care about other people and how to make it work. It's like learning how to share. And also, in that, I think you probably begin to learn who you are and who other people really are, and it becomes more complicated than just being back yard neighbors. You develop into you and sometimes that doesn't click with the them your best friend is growing up to be.
But that's ok. It's how it goes. Sometimes it works that you got lucky and guessed right to someone that ultimately developed to be like you, but other times you just have to be thankful for tree climbing and ice-cream-man -creaming and slip-n-sliding and lemonade-standing.
And I am. Thanks for being the best friends any kid could've asked for. Thanks for playing into my imagination, running wild with me, sharing secrets, helping me not be bored after school, coming to my birthday parties, seeing the ocean for the first time with me, planting silk flowers in the ground, phone calls, secrets, clubs, scrapes, teaching me how to be a friend, growing up with me, and helping me figure out the person I was to become.
We might be really different (or, you know, not even that much), and we might've gone different ways, but you helped make my childhood as happy as it was, and I couldn't think of a way to make it any better.
Thanks.
Lauren.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Day 16: Someone not in your state/country.
Dear someone not in my state/country,
Oh my gosh, I've been waiting to write this letter since the very beginning because I know exactly who to write to and exactly what I'm going to say!!
I might me you more than the person I wrote the missing you letter to. But it won't be so long before I see you again. Well, actually, it's really kind of a constant missing. And it has been for a while now, huh? Since about four years ago when you left for school and our lives started being lived mainly apart. But you know, for us, I think that's actually what brought us closer. And I'm so glad. Because I'd be a lot less good without you. Anyway, I look forward to the few times during the year when we can really see each other. Hang out like the old times. Starbucks, tea and cookies, and inevitably ending up in your room talking about Manifred and Morgies and life and everything.
But I'm also proud of how close we stay during the times we are away, like right now. Even if we don't talk for a while, you're always there, and we do make each other a priority.
You're the best. Seriously. You're like...a genuinely wonderful person, and your flaws are so, so miniscule in comparison to how caring and sweet and...fight-for-others you are. I really don't know what I'd do without you. So many times I've been so, so low and couldn't figure out how to pick myself up, and in all of those times, what really stands out is you. You bringing me a note when my grandma died, listening to me cry for God knows how many hours on the phone in the stairs, sending me packages, calling. I just wants you to know that those things do not go unnoticed. I probably don't tell you how much it all means to me enough, but it means so, so much. When I feel like I just can't take another step, or I feel like there's literally no one there. You're there. And you show it.
We've had our hard time (literally, singular.) and we got through it. We had to. I think you're one of those who are here to stay. And it made me realize that, I think. It made us stronger.
I know you probably think this letter is silly and mushy and that girly sound you make to make fun of things, but I really do think you need to hear it. Because we gloss over this stuff too much, and there's no way I tell you enough and sometimes we need to be serious. So. Suck it up.
You're the best. I'm so lucky to have you. We've really grown up together, and you bring the sunshine and the goofy and the random to my life. Being apart sucks, but I think we're pretty good at it. Because of that, all of that up there, I know you'll always be there for me, no matter how far apart we get in life. The same goes for me to you.
Plus, you'll always be home soon.
Looking forward to it,
Lauren
Dear someone not in my state/country,
Oh my gosh, I've been waiting to write this letter since the very beginning because I know exactly who to write to and exactly what I'm going to say!!
I might me you more than the person I wrote the missing you letter to. But it won't be so long before I see you again. Well, actually, it's really kind of a constant missing. And it has been for a while now, huh? Since about four years ago when you left for school and our lives started being lived mainly apart. But you know, for us, I think that's actually what brought us closer. And I'm so glad. Because I'd be a lot less good without you. Anyway, I look forward to the few times during the year when we can really see each other. Hang out like the old times. Starbucks, tea and cookies, and inevitably ending up in your room talking about Manifred and Morgies and life and everything.
But I'm also proud of how close we stay during the times we are away, like right now. Even if we don't talk for a while, you're always there, and we do make each other a priority.
You're the best. Seriously. You're like...a genuinely wonderful person, and your flaws are so, so miniscule in comparison to how caring and sweet and...fight-for-others you are. I really don't know what I'd do without you. So many times I've been so, so low and couldn't figure out how to pick myself up, and in all of those times, what really stands out is you. You bringing me a note when my grandma died, listening to me cry for God knows how many hours on the phone in the stairs, sending me packages, calling. I just wants you to know that those things do not go unnoticed. I probably don't tell you how much it all means to me enough, but it means so, so much. When I feel like I just can't take another step, or I feel like there's literally no one there. You're there. And you show it.
We've had our hard time (literally, singular.) and we got through it. We had to. I think you're one of those who are here to stay. And it made me realize that, I think. It made us stronger.
I know you probably think this letter is silly and mushy and that girly sound you make to make fun of things, but I really do think you need to hear it. Because we gloss over this stuff too much, and there's no way I tell you enough and sometimes we need to be serious. So. Suck it up.
You're the best. I'm so lucky to have you. We've really grown up together, and you bring the sunshine and the goofy and the random to my life. Being apart sucks, but I think we're pretty good at it. Because of that, all of that up there, I know you'll always be there for me, no matter how far apart we get in life. The same goes for me to you.
Plus, you'll always be home soon.
Looking forward to it,
Lauren
Saturday, July 17, 2010
#2.
Day 15: The person you miss the most.
Whoa, look at that. The day has changed already.
Dear person I miss the most,
This is a tricky letter. I don't really know.
I miss you because you're far away from me, and there's nothing we can do about it for years. I guess the futility of it, how I can't change any of it, how small I am in the whole scheme of things, has taught me paitience and flexibility. Maybe that only applies to this situation, because those are actually opposites of characteristics I would describe myself as having. I just have to let go and roll with the changes, because what's happening is happening. And that how I've come to think of you.
I really like the times when you're not far away from me. When we can slip back into our real relationship and pretend like the rest isn't happening. Those times anchor my year and divide it. And when it isn't happening, I go on living my life. Because, of course, that's the only option, and it makes it feel like it goes faster in the in-between.
It'll be interesting to see how we float through it all when you're home again. But then again, who knows if we'll ever be in the same place again? Our paths are funny, parallel and twisted and colliding all the time, but our timing is never quite impeccable.
Ah, but that's how it is. I do miss you, and I hope you're well. Always do.
Love,
Lolo.
Whoa, look at that. The day has changed already.
Dear person I miss the most,
This is a tricky letter. I don't really know.
I miss you because you're far away from me, and there's nothing we can do about it for years. I guess the futility of it, how I can't change any of it, how small I am in the whole scheme of things, has taught me paitience and flexibility. Maybe that only applies to this situation, because those are actually opposites of characteristics I would describe myself as having. I just have to let go and roll with the changes, because what's happening is happening. And that how I've come to think of you.
I really like the times when you're not far away from me. When we can slip back into our real relationship and pretend like the rest isn't happening. Those times anchor my year and divide it. And when it isn't happening, I go on living my life. Because, of course, that's the only option, and it makes it feel like it goes faster in the in-between.
It'll be interesting to see how we float through it all when you're home again. But then again, who knows if we'll ever be in the same place again? Our paths are funny, parallel and twisted and colliding all the time, but our timing is never quite impeccable.
Ah, but that's how it is. I do miss you, and I hope you're well. Always do.
Love,
Lolo.
I was uncharacteristically busy yesterday.
So here are two letters, one for yesterday and one for today.
Day 14: Someone you've drifted away from.
Dear someone I've drifted away from,
Technically, I'm breaking the rules with this letter because I'm not writing it to "someone" but many people. But I figure it's probably flexible. I make my own rules for this things anyway. Kinda like how I skipped yesterday.
Anyway. I went to grade school with the people I considered to be my best friends for 9 years (most of them, anyway.) I think it's safe to say that was where I'd built my life. Those were the people I got close to, told my secrets to, leaned on for support. Had crushes on, went to school dances with, went through life with. Those were the friends I thought I'd have forever. But it didn't really work out that way.
I went to a different high school. That's exactly what happened; we just drifted away (sidebar: in sentences like those, I just wanna use a comma. I know it breaks the rules of grammar, but I just feel like it would more accurately express what I want to say without the hoity toityness of a semicolon and without the jarring break of two sentences.) I made new friends because I had to (and I'm glad it happened. They made me me.) And they grew, too. It happens. It's nobody's fault.
Sometimes my mom would come home and say "So and so saw me at the grocery store. She said to tell you hi and that she misses you!" and I would always kinda scoff and think if they missed me so much they'd have kept in touch more than just when they saw my mom and thought it was a nice thing to say. I did keep in touch with a few, for a while. One of them I still talk to occasionally. I'd consider her a friend. It's just nice to hold on to that part of my life in some way. It makes me kind of sad to live in the Perry Meridian world sometimes, and not be able to share all the stories I accumulated over the first 14 years of my life/education. Or not be able to express what they meant to me or how it really was or something. It sometimes sucks to not be able to say things like how I've been friends with so and so for 18 years or since 2nd grade or something and we're still friends today. I don't really have anyone like that anymore.
But in the end, I guess I'm not that sad. Because looking at it now, I kinda feel like I was so, so young then and I didn't really know those people---who they really were, or are now---then. Or maybe I was too young to get it. Either way. The memories are still there, even if the physical presence has kind of faded. It's one of those, look at an old photograph and smile, kind of nostalgias. And that's nice. Untarnished. We smile at each other in the grocery store or write cute messages on Facebook walls, and there's an understanding that we both know, that we share something. The way it was is not the way it is, but I'm ok with that. We all grow and change and let go and hold on constantly, and that's the way the world is. I think I'm better for it.
Love, Lauren.
Day 14: Someone you've drifted away from.
Dear someone I've drifted away from,
Technically, I'm breaking the rules with this letter because I'm not writing it to "someone" but many people. But I figure it's probably flexible. I make my own rules for this things anyway. Kinda like how I skipped yesterday.
Anyway. I went to grade school with the people I considered to be my best friends for 9 years (most of them, anyway.) I think it's safe to say that was where I'd built my life. Those were the people I got close to, told my secrets to, leaned on for support. Had crushes on, went to school dances with, went through life with. Those were the friends I thought I'd have forever. But it didn't really work out that way.
I went to a different high school. That's exactly what happened; we just drifted away (sidebar: in sentences like those, I just wanna use a comma. I know it breaks the rules of grammar, but I just feel like it would more accurately express what I want to say without the hoity toityness of a semicolon and without the jarring break of two sentences.) I made new friends because I had to (and I'm glad it happened. They made me me.) And they grew, too. It happens. It's nobody's fault.
Sometimes my mom would come home and say "So and so saw me at the grocery store. She said to tell you hi and that she misses you!" and I would always kinda scoff and think if they missed me so much they'd have kept in touch more than just when they saw my mom and thought it was a nice thing to say. I did keep in touch with a few, for a while. One of them I still talk to occasionally. I'd consider her a friend. It's just nice to hold on to that part of my life in some way. It makes me kind of sad to live in the Perry Meridian world sometimes, and not be able to share all the stories I accumulated over the first 14 years of my life/education. Or not be able to express what they meant to me or how it really was or something. It sometimes sucks to not be able to say things like how I've been friends with so and so for 18 years or since 2nd grade or something and we're still friends today. I don't really have anyone like that anymore.
But in the end, I guess I'm not that sad. Because looking at it now, I kinda feel like I was so, so young then and I didn't really know those people---who they really were, or are now---then. Or maybe I was too young to get it. Either way. The memories are still there, even if the physical presence has kind of faded. It's one of those, look at an old photograph and smile, kind of nostalgias. And that's nice. Untarnished. We smile at each other in the grocery store or write cute messages on Facebook walls, and there's an understanding that we both know, that we share something. The way it was is not the way it is, but I'm ok with that. We all grow and change and let go and hold on constantly, and that's the way the world is. I think I'm better for it.
Love, Lauren.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
There are boundaries you'd never dream to cross.
Day 13: Someone you wish could forgive you.
Dear someone I wish could forgive me,
You know what I just thought? Maybe I should be addressing these to the people they're meant to be for. But, nah, because they're already hard enough to write already. It's scary for me to click publish every time, and I always go back and read it again to make sure I wasn't too harsh or too...anything. Plus. People know.
Someone I wish could forgive me...Well. This might sound egotistical, but I kinda feel like I've done most of the not-forgiving in my life. Let me rephrase. I will forgive, and unlike some, I will forget. I really will. I will give you a second and third and 1000000 chance, even if you don't deserve it. If I want to keep you in my life. There sometimes comes a point where it's just too much and the cost outweighs the value and I get skwirmy, and I push people away. I don't really think that's not forgiving, though. It's just figuring something out. But I don't really feel like there have been too many people who have walked away from me. I feel like it goes both ways, and the important people have been able to forgive my big mistakes.
Of course, I've had lots of little mistakes. You know. The stupid things. But I think the people I love have looked past those...even if I never had the opportunity (or was too stubborn) to say I'm sorry.
There are people I could wish forgive me. One in particular. But I don't really think I did anything wrong. Saying sorry would really only be a way to smooth things over and make sure you stay right where I want you--in my life. But I do that too much with you already, and I don't want to say sorry. Because I'm not. I think if you looked at it from my perspective, you'd see. It's your thing. Not mine. I no longer feel responsible for it. But I do and will.
Other than that, I'll apologize to the people I think deserve it:
I'm sorry for spilling everything to you and for making you like a black hole for my problems and never listening to you. I was an emotional timebomb, and you were wonderful, and I was selfish.
I'm sorry for everything I have ever done that was breaking a rule or an expectation or for hurting you. Don't deserve it. At all.
Sorry for saying that one thing and that other thing and being a brat.
Sorry I did that to you and you and you and you etc. I wouldn't (and have not) liked it if someone else did that to me, and the amount of hurt I wielded in playing with fire is something I can understand now.
Sorry for acting crazy all the time. I mess(ed) it up, and I'm learning. I know what I'm doing.
Sorry for my biggest secret.
I wish you could all forgive me, but some of you will never even know I'm apologizing. I wonder what it'd be like to be forgiven of all those things, but in real life, sometimes we have to live with the sorrys.
Sorry sorry sorry,
Lala.
Dear someone I wish could forgive me,
You know what I just thought? Maybe I should be addressing these to the people they're meant to be for. But, nah, because they're already hard enough to write already. It's scary for me to click publish every time, and I always go back and read it again to make sure I wasn't too harsh or too...anything. Plus. People know.
Someone I wish could forgive me...Well. This might sound egotistical, but I kinda feel like I've done most of the not-forgiving in my life. Let me rephrase. I will forgive, and unlike some, I will forget. I really will. I will give you a second and third and 1000000 chance, even if you don't deserve it. If I want to keep you in my life. There sometimes comes a point where it's just too much and the cost outweighs the value and I get skwirmy, and I push people away. I don't really think that's not forgiving, though. It's just figuring something out. But I don't really feel like there have been too many people who have walked away from me. I feel like it goes both ways, and the important people have been able to forgive my big mistakes.
Of course, I've had lots of little mistakes. You know. The stupid things. But I think the people I love have looked past those...even if I never had the opportunity (or was too stubborn) to say I'm sorry.
There are people I could wish forgive me. One in particular. But I don't really think I did anything wrong. Saying sorry would really only be a way to smooth things over and make sure you stay right where I want you--in my life. But I do that too much with you already, and I don't want to say sorry. Because I'm not. I think if you looked at it from my perspective, you'd see. It's your thing. Not mine. I no longer feel responsible for it. But I do and will.
Other than that, I'll apologize to the people I think deserve it:
I'm sorry for spilling everything to you and for making you like a black hole for my problems and never listening to you. I was an emotional timebomb, and you were wonderful, and I was selfish.
I'm sorry for everything I have ever done that was breaking a rule or an expectation or for hurting you. Don't deserve it. At all.
Sorry for saying that one thing and that other thing and being a brat.
Sorry I did that to you and you and you and you etc. I wouldn't (and have not) liked it if someone else did that to me, and the amount of hurt I wielded in playing with fire is something I can understand now.
Sorry for acting crazy all the time. I mess(ed) it up, and I'm learning. I know what I'm doing.
Sorry for my biggest secret.
I wish you could all forgive me, but some of you will never even know I'm apologizing. I wonder what it'd be like to be forgiven of all those things, but in real life, sometimes we have to live with the sorrys.
Sorry sorry sorry,
Lala.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
I woke up with a beetle crawling up my arm and I'm a regular at a parking garage.
Day 12: Someone you don't talk to as much as you like.
I try not to look to far ahead on the list I use to write these. I feel like it's kinda cheating, but I also feel like it's ruining the surprise...I like to hold out and not know what I've got facing me, but I also like to have something to look forward to. But I always look ahead to the next day so I can start thinking and come up with something real, at least a little bit.
I looked ahead today. Because I wasn't sure who to write this to and I wanted to see who I'd write the rest to so that maybe I'd know. But in the end I decided to just write it and see what comes. It's all about doing what I want, anyway.
Dear someone I don't talk to as much as I like,
There are many people I could write this to, and all for different reasons. I could play up certain aspects, or take "talk" in a literal or figurative way, or whatever. But instead, I'll write it to you (even though I do talk to you, most of the time, and even though this is probably a phase, and even though NOT talking isn't an issue most of the time) because you're the one plaguing my mind, and you're clearly the one I actually want to write it to. So I'll actually just get to the writing.
I'm sad we haven't been talking. I feel...uh...lost? But I also feel a lot of different things. It's summer. We're both hella busy (yes, I just said hella). Things are changing? There are lots of excuses. Still, though. It hurts my feelings. I'm about to say things I haven't hinted at to you, so you might be surprised.
I know you probably need a break from me. I guess I'm starting to realize that I'm not the most low-key friend everybody has. That's fine. But I guess I feel kinda abandoned. I felt like I was really there for you (as much as I could be) last summer and this year and most any time you've needed me, but when I was going through a pretty shitty time myself, I felt like you weren't really there at all. I mean, I guess you could argue that yours was shittier, but still. I needed you.
You could also argue that I haven't been making the effort either. And you're right. But the reason for that is because I'm tired of feeling like I'm the only one making an effort. Because I feel like you're more in demand than I am and you know it, and so you're cool with just letting me take the reins. And that doesn't always feel good to me. So I kinda decided to just sit back and let it happen. That's what I've been doing.
All of this isn't permanent, and I know I'll feel stupid in like 4.2 seconds because I always do, and everything will be back to what it was, but I guess I can't shake the feeling that things are different. I feel like you're living in this entirely different world high above me, and I honestly feel like I have no idea what's going on for you because you won't let me in.
The reason I haven't told you any of this is because I feel like part of the reason I don't know anything is because I'm too dramatic, make too big of a deal of everything and you're shutting me out (both?) because of that, or I hurt you in that, or you sense a change. Or something.
Bottom line: I need you, but I don't know how to say it. I miss how it used to be. I don't like waiting for it to be normal.
The end.
I try not to look to far ahead on the list I use to write these. I feel like it's kinda cheating, but I also feel like it's ruining the surprise...I like to hold out and not know what I've got facing me, but I also like to have something to look forward to. But I always look ahead to the next day so I can start thinking and come up with something real, at least a little bit.
I looked ahead today. Because I wasn't sure who to write this to and I wanted to see who I'd write the rest to so that maybe I'd know. But in the end I decided to just write it and see what comes. It's all about doing what I want, anyway.
Dear someone I don't talk to as much as I like,
There are many people I could write this to, and all for different reasons. I could play up certain aspects, or take "talk" in a literal or figurative way, or whatever. But instead, I'll write it to you (even though I do talk to you, most of the time, and even though this is probably a phase, and even though NOT talking isn't an issue most of the time) because you're the one plaguing my mind, and you're clearly the one I actually want to write it to. So I'll actually just get to the writing.
I'm sad we haven't been talking. I feel...uh...lost? But I also feel a lot of different things. It's summer. We're both hella busy (yes, I just said hella). Things are changing? There are lots of excuses. Still, though. It hurts my feelings. I'm about to say things I haven't hinted at to you, so you might be surprised.
I know you probably need a break from me. I guess I'm starting to realize that I'm not the most low-key friend everybody has. That's fine. But I guess I feel kinda abandoned. I felt like I was really there for you (as much as I could be) last summer and this year and most any time you've needed me, but when I was going through a pretty shitty time myself, I felt like you weren't really there at all. I mean, I guess you could argue that yours was shittier, but still. I needed you.
You could also argue that I haven't been making the effort either. And you're right. But the reason for that is because I'm tired of feeling like I'm the only one making an effort. Because I feel like you're more in demand than I am and you know it, and so you're cool with just letting me take the reins. And that doesn't always feel good to me. So I kinda decided to just sit back and let it happen. That's what I've been doing.
All of this isn't permanent, and I know I'll feel stupid in like 4.2 seconds because I always do, and everything will be back to what it was, but I guess I can't shake the feeling that things are different. I feel like you're living in this entirely different world high above me, and I honestly feel like I have no idea what's going on for you because you won't let me in.
The reason I haven't told you any of this is because I feel like part of the reason I don't know anything is because I'm too dramatic, make too big of a deal of everything and you're shutting me out (both?) because of that, or I hurt you in that, or you sense a change. Or something.
Bottom line: I need you, but I don't know how to say it. I miss how it used to be. I don't like waiting for it to be normal.
The end.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Sorry for clogging your reading lists for 30 days.
Day 11: The person who has caused you the most pain.
Dear person who has caused me the most pain,
I'm sorry, but it's you.
It was a night in November. I guess I never should have seen those pictures, but let's be honest, I would have found out eventually. I was so hurt. Thinking about it now still makes my stomach drop a little. Maybe I'm wrong, and maybe you have a totally different view of it, but here's why I feel the way I do.
I know things were the worst they were during that time right after you moved in, and I know they only got worse before prom, and I'm pretty sure something was going on around then too, but I guess I'll never really know. Things got better before you left. You knew I wasn't just a friend. You knew things were WAY more deep than casual. I would never have done what I did or felt how I felt without thinking we were something. I wrote you letters. Lots of them. You wrote some to me. What was I supposed to think we were? I know we never explicitly talked about it, and that was probably a mistake.
You came to see me when you got back. Twice. I was on cloud nine. Floating. Completely. It was all I cared about. You were all I could see. You slept on my floor. We kissed. You told me you were going to that game the next day. When I found out it was the next day, everything felt fake. When everything changed in November, it all felt fake.
I went spiraling out of control. Some of that was my fault, or not "fault" really, but some of it was just a bad place I'd worked myself into. I cried constantly. I looked like a psycho crying in the stairwell of Forest. That will always be a bad place for me. I lost a ton of weight. I cried myself to sleep. I cried to my mom so much that she gave me tylenol PM and some cold medicine or something just to get me to sleep. It was all I talked about. To Erin especially. Still sorry Erin, btw. Looking back, my life basically revolved around it. But still, I saw you.
When I refer to the hardest time in my life, I usually just call it "that one Christmas" or "the Christmas of Freshman Year". I was not myself then, and it took me a long, long time to be ok again. I don't even really know how it happened. Just that it did. Slowly, surely, I rose from those ashes, and I'm glad I did. I came out a stronger person. A more mature person. In some ways, I think that made me the college person I am today. More ready to take things on, more capable of dealing with things without letting it overtake me, stronger. I needed that. But it's still a bruise.
For the record, it's still with me. It haunts me. Not even just with you, but with other people. It's hard for me to trust. And, you know. With you. It's definitely the reason I don't know if I'm ready to trust you completely again. But in some ways, it was what I needed to grow up and become the person I needed to be. Is that anti-feminist, or something?
I don't know if you'd call it cheating, but it was what it was.
Love,
Lauren.
Dear person who has caused me the most pain,
I'm sorry, but it's you.
It was a night in November. I guess I never should have seen those pictures, but let's be honest, I would have found out eventually. I was so hurt. Thinking about it now still makes my stomach drop a little. Maybe I'm wrong, and maybe you have a totally different view of it, but here's why I feel the way I do.
I know things were the worst they were during that time right after you moved in, and I know they only got worse before prom, and I'm pretty sure something was going on around then too, but I guess I'll never really know. Things got better before you left. You knew I wasn't just a friend. You knew things were WAY more deep than casual. I would never have done what I did or felt how I felt without thinking we were something. I wrote you letters. Lots of them. You wrote some to me. What was I supposed to think we were? I know we never explicitly talked about it, and that was probably a mistake.
You came to see me when you got back. Twice. I was on cloud nine. Floating. Completely. It was all I cared about. You were all I could see. You slept on my floor. We kissed. You told me you were going to that game the next day. When I found out it was the next day, everything felt fake. When everything changed in November, it all felt fake.
I went spiraling out of control. Some of that was my fault, or not "fault" really, but some of it was just a bad place I'd worked myself into. I cried constantly. I looked like a psycho crying in the stairwell of Forest. That will always be a bad place for me. I lost a ton of weight. I cried myself to sleep. I cried to my mom so much that she gave me tylenol PM and some cold medicine or something just to get me to sleep. It was all I talked about. To Erin especially. Still sorry Erin, btw. Looking back, my life basically revolved around it. But still, I saw you.
When I refer to the hardest time in my life, I usually just call it "that one Christmas" or "the Christmas of Freshman Year". I was not myself then, and it took me a long, long time to be ok again. I don't even really know how it happened. Just that it did. Slowly, surely, I rose from those ashes, and I'm glad I did. I came out a stronger person. A more mature person. In some ways, I think that made me the college person I am today. More ready to take things on, more capable of dealing with things without letting it overtake me, stronger. I needed that. But it's still a bruise.
For the record, it's still with me. It haunts me. Not even just with you, but with other people. It's hard for me to trust. And, you know. With you. It's definitely the reason I don't know if I'm ready to trust you completely again. But in some ways, it was what I needed to grow up and become the person I needed to be. Is that anti-feminist, or something?
I don't know if you'd call it cheating, but it was what it was.
Love,
Lauren.
Monday, July 12, 2010
1/3. One over three. 0.33333. I feel annoying today.
Day 10: The deceased person you wish to talk to.
Dear deceased person I wish I could talk to,
I guess if I really did have just one chance to talk to someone dead and gone forever, and I was the world's one chance, I should use it in a more productive way. But I wouldn't. I don't really have a STRONG answer. And I feel kind of...bad for answering at all. The only two people I know who have died are my dad's mom and my mom's dad.
So. Grandpa. I'd choose you. Not because I loved either of you more or less or because either of you are better or worse. You were both amazing grandparents, and I know a grandchild probably doesn't see the whole picture and blocks out some of the bad things out of love, but I know you both genuinely loved me and you never failed to show it. I choose you because you died when I was in 4th grade. I felt old then, but I know now how young I was. I felt you'd shown me all the love you could then, but I know now how much you missed. Seeing me graduate high school, hell, even St. Barnabas. Seeing me drive. Seeing me go off to IU, your favorite, and something I never thought would happen. Every time I think of that little melty-bead IU thing I made you and think of how it all turned out, I smile. It's funny that way.
I wish you could see me now. When you saw me last, I thought I was finished, but God. I was so so far. I still am. But then I was just potential. Now....I feel like I've become something, at least a little. I wish you could've seen my report cards and seen me go in high school and seen me swim like you watched me play kickball. You would've been happy. I wish I could've visited and learned more about who you were. I wish you could see me graduate IU (you would've been the 1st one there) and maybe get married and maybe give you grandkids. Maybe on those last two.
Thank you for playing Little Mermaid with me and letting me "fix your hair" and putting up with the barrets I clipped in there and letting me sit in your massaging heat reclining chair. And for taking me to Schewan Garden when it was still good and letting me eat all the baby corn out of your food and mine. And for showing me the dollhouses and the magic forest. I took someone I loved there once, and I thought of you. It's special.
I still feel bad about that time we were driving and you said "Oh, they took that little liquor store out up there" when they replaced it with that water store or glass store, I don't remember. And I said in a mocking tone, "Oh, they took that little liquor store out up there." And it hurt your feelings and you told mom and you were sad. And it still pricks my heart when I think about how my other grandma would always say how you were the first one in the waiting room at the hospital and you were pacing and pacing and how you wanted to be the first to hold me but someone pushed in front of you. I would've chosen you.
And it still makes me smile when I think of that IU bead thing or how trac-tor was one of my first words because of how you'd give me rides on it and I know I already said the bead thing, but it's seriously one of my strongest associations.
I used to be able to still hear your voice in my head saying "Goddammit." I remember when it started to fade. I'm sad I didn't go in to the showing when they had it. But I'm also kind of not. And if I think about it, I know you'd be proud. Or are. You don't have to be present, anyway.
Thanks for leaving me with such an impression.
Love,
Lauren.
Dear deceased person I wish I could talk to,
I guess if I really did have just one chance to talk to someone dead and gone forever, and I was the world's one chance, I should use it in a more productive way. But I wouldn't. I don't really have a STRONG answer. And I feel kind of...bad for answering at all. The only two people I know who have died are my dad's mom and my mom's dad.
So. Grandpa. I'd choose you. Not because I loved either of you more or less or because either of you are better or worse. You were both amazing grandparents, and I know a grandchild probably doesn't see the whole picture and blocks out some of the bad things out of love, but I know you both genuinely loved me and you never failed to show it. I choose you because you died when I was in 4th grade. I felt old then, but I know now how young I was. I felt you'd shown me all the love you could then, but I know now how much you missed. Seeing me graduate high school, hell, even St. Barnabas. Seeing me drive. Seeing me go off to IU, your favorite, and something I never thought would happen. Every time I think of that little melty-bead IU thing I made you and think of how it all turned out, I smile. It's funny that way.
I wish you could see me now. When you saw me last, I thought I was finished, but God. I was so so far. I still am. But then I was just potential. Now....I feel like I've become something, at least a little. I wish you could've seen my report cards and seen me go in high school and seen me swim like you watched me play kickball. You would've been happy. I wish I could've visited and learned more about who you were. I wish you could see me graduate IU (you would've been the 1st one there) and maybe get married and maybe give you grandkids. Maybe on those last two.
Thank you for playing Little Mermaid with me and letting me "fix your hair" and putting up with the barrets I clipped in there and letting me sit in your massaging heat reclining chair. And for taking me to Schewan Garden when it was still good and letting me eat all the baby corn out of your food and mine. And for showing me the dollhouses and the magic forest. I took someone I loved there once, and I thought of you. It's special.
I still feel bad about that time we were driving and you said "Oh, they took that little liquor store out up there" when they replaced it with that water store or glass store, I don't remember. And I said in a mocking tone, "Oh, they took that little liquor store out up there." And it hurt your feelings and you told mom and you were sad. And it still pricks my heart when I think about how my other grandma would always say how you were the first one in the waiting room at the hospital and you were pacing and pacing and how you wanted to be the first to hold me but someone pushed in front of you. I would've chosen you.
And it still makes me smile when I think of that IU bead thing or how trac-tor was one of my first words because of how you'd give me rides on it and I know I already said the bead thing, but it's seriously one of my strongest associations.
I used to be able to still hear your voice in my head saying "Goddammit." I remember when it started to fade. I'm sad I didn't go in to the showing when they had it. But I'm also kind of not. And if I think about it, I know you'd be proud. Or are. You don't have to be present, anyway.
Thanks for leaving me with such an impression.
Love,
Lauren.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Day 9: Someone you wish you could meet.
Dear someone I wish I could meet,
I don't know. I don't know what to do with this letter, because it's not one I feel a pressing need to write.
There's NOT someone I wish I could meet. Sure, it'd be nice to meet Jesus or the president or Chace Crawford (and jump his bones), but I don't NEED to. Maybe my answer to this question/day/letter should be to meet the person I NEED. The one person I need to push me to become who I need to be, or "the one" to sweep me off my feet or the person who'd put it all into focus. But you know...that person doesn't exist. There's no perfect solution. It's just me. I've got to do those things myself. And hey, I already know me. Even if I need to change before I can see everything better.
Plus, I've got enough people in my life to deal with already, am I right? And I love them.
The End.
Lauren.
Dear someone I wish I could meet,
I don't know. I don't know what to do with this letter, because it's not one I feel a pressing need to write.
There's NOT someone I wish I could meet. Sure, it'd be nice to meet Jesus or the president or Chace Crawford (and jump his bones), but I don't NEED to. Maybe my answer to this question/day/letter should be to meet the person I NEED. The one person I need to push me to become who I need to be, or "the one" to sweep me off my feet or the person who'd put it all into focus. But you know...that person doesn't exist. There's no perfect solution. It's just me. I've got to do those things myself. And hey, I already know me. Even if I need to change before I can see everything better.
Plus, I've got enough people in my life to deal with already, am I right? And I love them.
The End.
Lauren.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Day 8: Your Favorite Internet Friend.
Every day I do this, I feel kind of...meh. Because I guess it makes me feel internet obsessed and self absorbed and vague and silly. But you know, I'm really kind of in love with the idea. Because 1. I love letters. 2. These are turning out to be extremely honest and raw, and I love that. 3. It keeps me writing. And I love that too. So. Onward. I'm not sure that today's will be that compelling.
Dear my favorite internet friend,
This is kind of hard because I'm not sure this exactly applies to me. So. I'm going to write this to you from the perspective of my favorite people to stalk online.
I think we all have those people. The ones you look at every time you sign on even if you don't want to. I think of it as my Facebook rounds, even if that makes me pathetic. Which it probably does. There are about...oh, I don't know...5-7 of you that I stalk relentlessly. I'm sorry. But I really think that there are people like that for everyone...maybe I'm even one of them for some of you. In fact, I'm pretty sure that I am. In fact, you may be reading this right now. If you are, just know that everyone has people they look at for random, real, or even reasons they don't know. Here are mine.
For some of you, especially some of you, I do it because you either have been a threat to me in the past or you're a threat to me now. Rewal or perceived. If it's in the past it's most likely just a habit now. I don't know why I don't stop. For another few of you...well. How could I not? You're in my life and always will be. And finally, for some...you or your lives just interest me. I don't even KNOW you, seriously, like, at all. It's weird, but you're just one of my PEOPLE. As in...someone who interests me because I don't understand some aspect of the person they are and I just watch to try to put my finger on the intangible. That might be you.
But anyway, I think it's interesting. The people who look at you and watch you and listen to you and what you write and know when you're having a hard time or a great life and never say anything. It's kinda nice to know there are probably more people who care about you than you know. Or, I don't know, it's creepy. But I wonder who that is for me. It's you guys that I look to, and in some way, in your own ways, you give me something through that. So thanks. Even if you never know.
A total creeper,
Lauren.
Every day I do this, I feel kind of...meh. Because I guess it makes me feel internet obsessed and self absorbed and vague and silly. But you know, I'm really kind of in love with the idea. Because 1. I love letters. 2. These are turning out to be extremely honest and raw, and I love that. 3. It keeps me writing. And I love that too. So. Onward. I'm not sure that today's will be that compelling.
Dear my favorite internet friend,
This is kind of hard because I'm not sure this exactly applies to me. So. I'm going to write this to you from the perspective of my favorite people to stalk online.
I think we all have those people. The ones you look at every time you sign on even if you don't want to. I think of it as my Facebook rounds, even if that makes me pathetic. Which it probably does. There are about...oh, I don't know...5-7 of you that I stalk relentlessly. I'm sorry. But I really think that there are people like that for everyone...maybe I'm even one of them for some of you. In fact, I'm pretty sure that I am. In fact, you may be reading this right now. If you are, just know that everyone has people they look at for random, real, or even reasons they don't know. Here are mine.
For some of you, especially some of you, I do it because you either have been a threat to me in the past or you're a threat to me now. Rewal or perceived. If it's in the past it's most likely just a habit now. I don't know why I don't stop. For another few of you...well. How could I not? You're in my life and always will be. And finally, for some...you or your lives just interest me. I don't even KNOW you, seriously, like, at all. It's weird, but you're just one of my PEOPLE. As in...someone who interests me because I don't understand some aspect of the person they are and I just watch to try to put my finger on the intangible. That might be you.
But anyway, I think it's interesting. The people who look at you and watch you and listen to you and what you write and know when you're having a hard time or a great life and never say anything. It's kinda nice to know there are probably more people who care about you than you know. Or, I don't know, it's creepy. But I wonder who that is for me. It's you guys that I look to, and in some way, in your own ways, you give me something through that. So thanks. Even if you never know.
A total creeper,
Lauren.
Friday, July 9, 2010
If I lay here. If I just lay here...
Day 7: An Ex.
Dear Ex,
I knew there'd be hard, awkward, weird-to-write-online letters in this series, and this is one of them. I don't know what to say because there's been a lot already said between the two of us. Face to face, on the phone, and in real letters. A lot in real letters, like the one I've written to you recently but which I won't send. You're welcome.
Hello. That's more than you've been saying to me lately, and I guess it's more than I expect you'll say to me for a while. I hate it, and it sucks, and it hurts me. It makes me sad. All I want to do is call you and text you infinity times, and write cryptic things everywhere, and remind you of our good times, and "accidently" skype you and make you remember that I'm here and that you like me, but I can't. Because I now realize that I can't make people love me. I can't control how people feel about me at all. There's nothing I can do but be what I am and let it go. If someone is supposed to be in my life, they'll be there in the end. And if you're supposed to be in my life, this won't stop you, and you'll come back eventually. I always did. I've always expected that you would. I guess I felt you'd be in my life always, in some way. I still do.
But I won't push. Maybe I was wrong, and maybe you're not the one that should be there in the end. And if not...well, maybe I just haven't seen it the right way yet.
I feel like where we are now is not that different from where we've been in the past, except the roles are reversed. And now I understand how you felt better than I ever, ever thought I could. You had a point then, but I just couldn't see it. Maybe you'll understand a little how I felt then. And have a little understanding...maybe.
The rest I want to say....well. I've said it before. And well. I can't really say it here, can I? This is already more honest than I thought I'd be. But you know...it's really eye-opening.
Please don't shut me out completely. Please don't make it forever. Here's hoping.
-Lauren.
Dear Ex,
I knew there'd be hard, awkward, weird-to-write-online letters in this series, and this is one of them. I don't know what to say because there's been a lot already said between the two of us. Face to face, on the phone, and in real letters. A lot in real letters, like the one I've written to you recently but which I won't send. You're welcome.
Hello. That's more than you've been saying to me lately, and I guess it's more than I expect you'll say to me for a while. I hate it, and it sucks, and it hurts me. It makes me sad. All I want to do is call you and text you infinity times, and write cryptic things everywhere, and remind you of our good times, and "accidently" skype you and make you remember that I'm here and that you like me, but I can't. Because I now realize that I can't make people love me. I can't control how people feel about me at all. There's nothing I can do but be what I am and let it go. If someone is supposed to be in my life, they'll be there in the end. And if you're supposed to be in my life, this won't stop you, and you'll come back eventually. I always did. I've always expected that you would. I guess I felt you'd be in my life always, in some way. I still do.
But I won't push. Maybe I was wrong, and maybe you're not the one that should be there in the end. And if not...well, maybe I just haven't seen it the right way yet.
I feel like where we are now is not that different from where we've been in the past, except the roles are reversed. And now I understand how you felt better than I ever, ever thought I could. You had a point then, but I just couldn't see it. Maybe you'll understand a little how I felt then. And have a little understanding...maybe.
The rest I want to say....well. I've said it before. And well. I can't really say it here, can I? This is already more honest than I thought I'd be. But you know...it's really eye-opening.
Please don't shut me out completely. Please don't make it forever. Here's hoping.
-Lauren.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Day 6: A Stranger.
Dear Stranger,
I've actually thought about this a lot. I think about it every time I'm walking on the street to work or on campus to class or at a stop light or in a restaurant or at the mall and I look up and take a second and look into your eyes. Whatever you're doing or thinking or however you're acting or whatever your mood or whoever you are, I always want to say one thing. Just one thing.
You're gonna be alright. We're all gonna be alright.
And send you little invisible signals of strength and that's it.
Love, Lauren.
Dear Stranger,
I've actually thought about this a lot. I think about it every time I'm walking on the street to work or on campus to class or at a stop light or in a restaurant or at the mall and I look up and take a second and look into your eyes. Whatever you're doing or thinking or however you're acting or whatever your mood or whoever you are, I always want to say one thing. Just one thing.
You're gonna be alright. We're all gonna be alright.
And send you little invisible signals of strength and that's it.
Love, Lauren.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
I thought this one was today, and I kinda dreaded it.
Day 5: Dreams.
Dear Dreams,
I'm going to keep this one kinda short and maybe not-so-on-topic, because I came to a realization today and that's what I actually want to talk about. But come to think about it, maybe it is true what they say...inspiration only comes after writing itself. Smart.
Anyway, Dear Dreams...
You terrify me. Mostly because I'm scared that you're impossible. And I worry about it all the time, and I think I just end up running frantically in circles because of that. But it's like this song I have on a CD that I've been playing in my car: "Wouldn't you agree? Running always slows you down?"
Today I came to this realization (mostly about a completely different situation, but thinking about it now, I guess it relates a lot to my dreams). You know, the life I have planned in my head is not my life. And I really just need to learn to let go and let the life that is mine (or will be) come to me. There's nothing more I can do than what I CAN do (there's not NOTHING I can do; I can try my best and do everything I know to try to make it what I want...or think I want). And there IS a point, a line in the sand, where I just have to stop and let it ride. I can say all I want, but I can't make someone love me or the book get published or everything work out right. And maybe if I've said all I can and it's still not turning out the way I want, maybe I'm just not seeing it the right way. Maybe he's not the one or that's not my dream job or I'm not supposed to go abroad and I am supposed to have something I just. can't. see yet.
See, the thing is, things have always worked out, and I know that no matter what, even if nothing is what I think it will be from my naive, 20-year-old perspective right now, I KNOW I will be happy in the end. And really, that's the only dream I have.
Hey, maybe it's really like you said, and everything will be alright. Ah, thanks for that.
Love, Lauren.
Dear Dreams,
I'm going to keep this one kinda short and maybe not-so-on-topic, because I came to a realization today and that's what I actually want to talk about. But come to think about it, maybe it is true what they say...inspiration only comes after writing itself. Smart.
Anyway, Dear Dreams...
You terrify me. Mostly because I'm scared that you're impossible. And I worry about it all the time, and I think I just end up running frantically in circles because of that. But it's like this song I have on a CD that I've been playing in my car: "Wouldn't you agree? Running always slows you down?"
Today I came to this realization (mostly about a completely different situation, but thinking about it now, I guess it relates a lot to my dreams). You know, the life I have planned in my head is not my life. And I really just need to learn to let go and let the life that is mine (or will be) come to me. There's nothing more I can do than what I CAN do (there's not NOTHING I can do; I can try my best and do everything I know to try to make it what I want...or think I want). And there IS a point, a line in the sand, where I just have to stop and let it ride. I can say all I want, but I can't make someone love me or the book get published or everything work out right. And maybe if I've said all I can and it's still not turning out the way I want, maybe I'm just not seeing it the right way. Maybe he's not the one or that's not my dream job or I'm not supposed to go abroad and I am supposed to have something I just. can't. see yet.
See, the thing is, things have always worked out, and I know that no matter what, even if nothing is what I think it will be from my naive, 20-year-old perspective right now, I KNOW I will be happy in the end. And really, that's the only dream I have.
Hey, maybe it's really like you said, and everything will be alright. Ah, thanks for that.
Love, Lauren.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Not in the mood.
Day 4: Sibling
Dear Sibling,
We grew up fighting, pulling hair, scratching, locking each other (read: me locking you) in the chokey.
I'm so glad we've grown up. Because now I actually feel like we're in a good place. A place where you can call me crying and ask for advice, or where I can just walk into your (coughMYcough) room and lay on your bed and talk about nothing. You're the only one who can know what it's REALLY like, and you're the only one who knows all the memories, and you're the only one that shares that language with me. You're closer than any friend I have solely because of that stuff, and even though we still fight and annoy each other and disagree sometimes, we're sisters. No one can replace what you give. And you'll always be there, through everything. You'll be the maid of honor at my wedding, the aunt to my kids (if these things happen, and isn't it weird to think of us being old? Yes). My life wouldn't be the same without you.
The End.
Dear Sibling,
We grew up fighting, pulling hair, scratching, locking each other (read: me locking you) in the chokey.
I'm so glad we've grown up. Because now I actually feel like we're in a good place. A place where you can call me crying and ask for advice, or where I can just walk into your (coughMYcough) room and lay on your bed and talk about nothing. You're the only one who can know what it's REALLY like, and you're the only one who knows all the memories, and you're the only one that shares that language with me. You're closer than any friend I have solely because of that stuff, and even though we still fight and annoy each other and disagree sometimes, we're sisters. No one can replace what you give. And you'll always be there, through everything. You'll be the maid of honor at my wedding, the aunt to my kids (if these things happen, and isn't it weird to think of us being old? Yes). My life wouldn't be the same without you.
The End.
Monday, July 5, 2010
3
Day 3: Parents
Dear Parents,
You are great, and I am not always. Seriously, you're the best. I know I don't always tell you that, and you definitely get the brunt of my bad side. After all, who sees you at your worst more than the ones who love you the most? Because they have to love you no matter what. And you do. You do, and more than that. It's in the way you overreact and ground us from everything for a week and then come appologize and reduce it after an hour. Or how you embarass me by yelling at the boys across the field before church. Or how you bring me a candy bar even after I've said I don't want one just cause I'm in a bad mood. You see right through me, and you know everything about me before I even do it. But what can you expect? You've known me even before I knew me.
Really, you're the epitome of putting your kid first. You've sacrificed everything for me, and I know you always would if I needed it. Sports practices, vacations, camps. Money, time, driving back and forth. You've been to almost every game, competition, award ceremony. It's amazing. I'm terribly, terribly lucky to have such amazing support and love, and terribly, terribly unappreciative.
But it's not just that you've shown me love; you've also given me the discipline and tools I've needed to be able to step out on my own. You haven't handicapped me. Isn't that the goal of parenting? To do such a good job that your kids will eventually leave you? Even though I don't always open up, and even though our relationship isn't from the movies, and even though I have flaws, I couldn't imagine anything better. I see myself become more and more like each of you every day. And that's terrifying. But I just hope someday I can do half as good of a job as you have with my own kids. To give them memories of Easter egg hunts and Christmas trees, kickball coaching and apple orchards, makeovers and playing Little Mermaid. And to love them so well that they eventually leave and go do it themselves. Thanks.
Love, Lolo.
Dear Parents,
You are great, and I am not always. Seriously, you're the best. I know I don't always tell you that, and you definitely get the brunt of my bad side. After all, who sees you at your worst more than the ones who love you the most? Because they have to love you no matter what. And you do. You do, and more than that. It's in the way you overreact and ground us from everything for a week and then come appologize and reduce it after an hour. Or how you embarass me by yelling at the boys across the field before church. Or how you bring me a candy bar even after I've said I don't want one just cause I'm in a bad mood. You see right through me, and you know everything about me before I even do it. But what can you expect? You've known me even before I knew me.
Really, you're the epitome of putting your kid first. You've sacrificed everything for me, and I know you always would if I needed it. Sports practices, vacations, camps. Money, time, driving back and forth. You've been to almost every game, competition, award ceremony. It's amazing. I'm terribly, terribly lucky to have such amazing support and love, and terribly, terribly unappreciative.
But it's not just that you've shown me love; you've also given me the discipline and tools I've needed to be able to step out on my own. You haven't handicapped me. Isn't that the goal of parenting? To do such a good job that your kids will eventually leave you? Even though I don't always open up, and even though our relationship isn't from the movies, and even though I have flaws, I couldn't imagine anything better. I see myself become more and more like each of you every day. And that's terrifying. But I just hope someday I can do half as good of a job as you have with my own kids. To give them memories of Easter egg hunts and Christmas trees, kickball coaching and apple orchards, makeovers and playing Little Mermaid. And to love them so well that they eventually leave and go do it themselves. Thanks.
Love, Lolo.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Day 2: or, The 4th of July.
Day 2: Crush
Dear Crush:
I don't really know who I'm writing to with this one. I guess because I'm not really sure who my crush is. Or maybe I don't have one. It's probably that. And rather than just being vague and cryptic and leave you hanging, I'll tell you why.
It's because I have more-than-crushes. Nothing in my life right now could be considered a "crush" in the "I-like-you-but-we-haven't-talked-but-I-hope-something-happens-even-though-it's-far-fetched" sense. I haven't had that in a while.
And I don't really know where I'm going right now. So I can't really figure things out. I'm just kind of...waiting to figure it out. Not really in a position to have a crush, exactly. Maybe someday.
And, you know, just where I am right now, I don't know what I hope will happen. That's another thing I think is missing from the crush aspect. When you have a crush, you hope he'll notice you. You hope you'll get that 5 minutes by the locker, that dance at the party, that random text, I don't know, however crushes work when you get older. But really, I don't know what I hope.
I hope to be happy, and that's all I hope. So, crush, here's to that. Someday. Or maybe not.
Love, me.
PS: This was a bad letter. Oh well.
Dear Crush:
I don't really know who I'm writing to with this one. I guess because I'm not really sure who my crush is. Or maybe I don't have one. It's probably that. And rather than just being vague and cryptic and leave you hanging, I'll tell you why.
It's because I have more-than-crushes. Nothing in my life right now could be considered a "crush" in the "I-like-you-but-we-haven't-talked-but-I-hope-something-happens-even-though-it's-far-fetched" sense. I haven't had that in a while.
And I don't really know where I'm going right now. So I can't really figure things out. I'm just kind of...waiting to figure it out. Not really in a position to have a crush, exactly. Maybe someday.
And, you know, just where I am right now, I don't know what I hope will happen. That's another thing I think is missing from the crush aspect. When you have a crush, you hope he'll notice you. You hope you'll get that 5 minutes by the locker, that dance at the party, that random text, I don't know, however crushes work when you get older. But really, I don't know what I hope.
I hope to be happy, and that's all I hope. So, crush, here's to that. Someday. Or maybe not.
Love, me.
PS: This was a bad letter. Oh well.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Day 1.
So. I saw this somewhere, and if you know me, you'll know how into it I'd be. It's called the 30 Day Letter Challenge. You write one letter per day for 30 days. And...normally, I'd say that's a pretty big committment to something kinda trivial when I am so so busy and have so much else going on/that I could do. But, since I'm kind of in a place right now where I don't exactly know who I am or where I'm going, I figure it might give me some direction or perspective or something on my life. What's important? What lurks in the corners I haven't explored lately? Maybe most importantly, who will these letters be to? Ah, here it goes.
Day 1: Best Friend.
Dear Best Friend:
This isn't really a hard one to decide who to write to, but it is kind of a hard one to decide what to write. Mmm, but I don't think it'll be like this forever. I think it's just how it is right now.
You're my best friend. We've been through a lot a lot. And I thank you for it. I don't know what I would do without you....or how I'd have gotten through some of the stuff I did. You're pretty much the only person I feel I can just TALK to.. Without a filter...say how I really feel, be ugly, tell pretty much everything to. I think that's something special, the bond we have in that way. I don't know...we just GET each other. Or at least that's how I feel. I don't think there will ever be anything quite like that, at least for me. It might be different for you. And I think it's been kinda different lately. I mean, we've both been really busy, and there's been a lot of new beginnings and brand new endings in our lives and we're kinda on different pages right now. But I just feel like I don't really....GET you. I mean, I can't track things, I don't know what you think or what you're doing, I feel like kinda a constant...burden? Intrusion? on the life you're living. I feel like I've done something wrong or maybe you don't approve of how I'm steering my life right now or something...but I think you'd tell me if that was true. I guess I just feel a little lost right now, and I feel like you haven't really been in my orbit enough to be reachable. You're there for me all the time, though, so I guess I feel like I should take this one on on my own, and learn to just suck it up and be ok. Honestly, it hurts me a little, but only a little. I'm fine. Like I said, I get that we're busy and on different pages and focusing on new beginnings and things like that. I just worry that things have actually changed for real after college this year, and that the dynamic will be completely different when school starts again and lots of other people enter our lives. I kinda feel like it HAS changed.
But that's ok too. Things change. It's really not that big of a deal because you're still my best friend. And that sounds too simple and lame to counterbalance all the stuff I just said, but it's actually the only thing that's important, and it weighs more than anything else. I know it's just time and age and change, and I know it's just summer, and I know that it's all ok. For reals. The End.
Love,
Me.
Day 1: Best Friend.
Dear Best Friend:
This isn't really a hard one to decide who to write to, but it is kind of a hard one to decide what to write. Mmm, but I don't think it'll be like this forever. I think it's just how it is right now.
You're my best friend. We've been through a lot a lot. And I thank you for it. I don't know what I would do without you....or how I'd have gotten through some of the stuff I did. You're pretty much the only person I feel I can just TALK to.. Without a filter...say how I really feel, be ugly, tell pretty much everything to. I think that's something special, the bond we have in that way. I don't know...we just GET each other. Or at least that's how I feel. I don't think there will ever be anything quite like that, at least for me. It might be different for you. And I think it's been kinda different lately. I mean, we've both been really busy, and there's been a lot of new beginnings and brand new endings in our lives and we're kinda on different pages right now. But I just feel like I don't really....GET you. I mean, I can't track things, I don't know what you think or what you're doing, I feel like kinda a constant...burden? Intrusion? on the life you're living. I feel like I've done something wrong or maybe you don't approve of how I'm steering my life right now or something...but I think you'd tell me if that was true. I guess I just feel a little lost right now, and I feel like you haven't really been in my orbit enough to be reachable. You're there for me all the time, though, so I guess I feel like I should take this one on on my own, and learn to just suck it up and be ok. Honestly, it hurts me a little, but only a little. I'm fine. Like I said, I get that we're busy and on different pages and focusing on new beginnings and things like that. I just worry that things have actually changed for real after college this year, and that the dynamic will be completely different when school starts again and lots of other people enter our lives. I kinda feel like it HAS changed.
But that's ok too. Things change. It's really not that big of a deal because you're still my best friend. And that sounds too simple and lame to counterbalance all the stuff I just said, but it's actually the only thing that's important, and it weighs more than anything else. I know it's just time and age and change, and I know it's just summer, and I know that it's all ok. For reals. The End.
Love,
Me.
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