Brand New Day

It's been a journey, and today I fell off the bus.
I'm not sure how what I'm about to type will come out...usually I kinda have these things planned out...usually they're something I've been wanting to say for a long time. Maybe this is something I've been wanting to say for a long time, and I just didn't know it. I'm going to say it anyway, and let it be as it is.
Or delete it tomorrow, whatever.

Today I had a weepy day. For me, at least, when I haven't cried in a certain amount of time, a blow up is inevitable. It never used to be long before it happened...in fact, I got to a point last year and senior year where I felt like I was just continually breaking down. A mess. But something happened this summer...and I'm not really sure what. But I know it's different. I've assumed more of the "listener" role. I don't always need to be the one talking. And I don't need to always be the one breaking down. I can listen and console and pretend to be the strong one even when I'm actually breaking down myself. It's this strange turn inward with a new ability of holding things in and handling them quietly. Less selfish, more selfless. It's healthy.
That was a complete tangent, but one I felt was necessary.
Anyway, I haven't broken down in a long time. But today..I just couldn't. And of course, The Notebook was on. It's like TV Guide times its airing perfectly with my sad days. Incredible, really. I almost didn't have a choice.

First love.
First real love.
I was thinking about it today as I tried not to cry in my car. (And as I try not to cry now) When was yours? You should KNOW. It should jump to your mind immediately, and there should be no doubt. If you don't KNOW, then you probably haven't experienced it yet. At least not love to its greatest potential.
I used to think my story was special. That it was something worth telling. Some epic saga of ups and downs and complications few could understand. But (as I was thinking about it in my car, driving home from The Time Traveler's Wife and choking out the words to Miss Delaney by myself) I realized that it's not unique. Sure, it's special to ME. It will always be that way...always have meaning. But I'm not the only one.
Overcoming first love.
Overcoming first love is HARD. But it always is. The journey is different for every traveler that finds himself there, but it's just as hard on a personal level. Maybe we all deal with it differently, but I think that if it's that first REAL love. Real, IT. That it's just as hopelessly twisted in one big throbbing knot of hurt and complications, and you have to sort it out.
For some it takes longer than others, perhaps. But it's still the same rubiks cube. Prodigy and dunce alike.

I went to the track to run out my emotions. Contrary to what every runner in the world ever has ever said (I am NOT a runner) I like running on the track. Even though it's endless circles of the same thing, I like knowing how far I've gone and how far there is left before I can stop (I bet that says something really deep about my personality, huh?) When I thought I was going to cry, I ran faster. When I thought I was going to die, I slowed down. This song came on my ipod.

--It's a brand new day
The sun is shining
It's a brand new day
For the first time
In such a long, long time
I know
I'll be ok--

And you know...that's how I feel. Truly. I hit a speed bump today. I was sad. I acted on it. I'm going to have more days like that. But I'm still looking ahead, and I finally (finally FINALLY) feel GOOD about where I am. I'm excited to see what's to come. I feel deep down it's going to be something really good for me.
Maybe I've sorted out my rubiks cube after all...
But how should I know? I've nothing to base it off.

(I'm going to stop now. But as a sidenote..This all makes me wonder if this is just the kind of person I am. The kind that has trouble letting go and getting angry and moving on. Or if it was the situation. Or...And it makes me wonder. If THIS is the kind of thing I choose to write about..what exactly is my...blogging...personality? More on that later. Maybe.)

We live on front porches and swing life away..

I'm in the mood to atone for my past.
I want to do something that scares me every day. I want to not take life as seriously. I want to be less worried about what other people think and just go with my gut.

And all of that is fine, and it's good, and that's where I am. But what about this:
It's good to want to fix your past mistakes, but what if your past mistakes just want you to leave them alone and let them move on with their lives?
I think a lot of times we're more self-centered than we realize. Even in the times we think we're being LEAST self-centered. Sometimes I think it's those times when we can be the most hurtful.
We think--and when I say "we" here, I'm mostly saying "I"--that other people's lives hinge on our own person. That when you hurt someone or burn a bridge or make the executive choice to move on from someone or some situation, they are eternally hurt or confused by the power your just exerted. And that when you finally have some perspective and can come back, cool and calm, mature and ready to make amends, they should see the great favor you are bestowing upon them and be happy.
But they don't have to accept your olive branch...and sometimes, just the very presence of you trying to rehash old issues does more harm and brings more pain than if you had just stayed out in the first place.
So where do we draw the line...? How do we decide when we have the RESPONSIBILITY to take action and when we just have to accept the damage that has been done and actually do something BETTER by just leaving it and walking away?

Sometimes, I guess I just realized...Sometimes forgiveness, apology is more about YOU than the other person. And something--making amends--that we normally consider a GOOD thing can actually be far more painful than doing nothing at all.

Sadly, I think this question has been more relevant to my life lately..I've needed a lot of forgiving.
This kinda came out of nowhere..but I think that's sometimes how I stumble upon my greatest truths.
I want to write something about home and how I've changed...I'm getting there, too.

There's always someone cooler than you.

I've changed a lot this summer.
Camp has changed me a lot. I can't sum it all up now. There's too much in the way of personality. But I think the biggest change has come in an attitude.

I don't believe in mistakes anymore. I'm just after experiences. The rest, I've come to believe, will fall in to place.

I don't know how permanent these changes are--camp world and real world are radically different--but for now, this is where I am.

More to come later.
One week left. Bring it on. Soak it up.

You can't save everyone.

I've been writing a lot at camp.

I haven't forgotten this, but it's basically a black hole of technology there, so I've been writing things out and will post...when I can.

It's an entirely different world...one I don't know that I can fully explain yet. I'm learning a lot about myself and a lot about life and I'm seeing things in a whole new way. Just...being away from everything...cut off and forced away...and becoming part of this...community. A community like I've never experienced before. It's...awe inspiring. Also running around all day outside, being a role model/being thought of as cool, and not caring what you look like...It's...yeah, I can't quite put it into words yet.

I'll just say it's one of the hardest and most amazing things I've ever, ever done.

Anyway, this is something I wrote while at camp.
I'm actually kind of proud of it.

Love is unconditional. It is watning something for someone else and wanting nothing in return. Nothing for yourself. Love is hoping someone else is happy even if it means you are not. Offering yourself up on a platter--everything you have and everything you are--putting it out there, throwing it all down on the table and not needing to hear anything back.
Maybe there are different types of love or different levels of love but I think truly--at the very core of them all--is this total and complete sacrifice of self. It's the only true gift a person can give or offer. And you can't just grasp it by saying this or reading it or even understanding it. Knowing this fact comes hard-earned. You have to reach this conclusion yourself before you can embrace it truly. Love is sacrifice. Love is unconditional. Learning is the journey. The personal journey. Like faith. But once you know it--it's one of the greatest and birghtest truths there is.

My titles don't related to what I have to say.

All humans make mistakes.
But the thing is, no matter how bad they seem, we can almost always overcome them.
I was thinking this today in the shower. No, I don't know why.
It's not the mistake ITSELF that has the power to destroy you--it's YOU. It's the inability to confront it, own it, and accept it as something you did. Reconcile it with who you are. Take it in and make it something that makes you stronger. And let it go. Move on.

I think I have a problem with that last part. Letting go. Moving on. I let my mistakes haunt me. It's hard for me not to constantly let it wash over me, pushing me down and down. To not get feeling hopeless and stuck and like nothing will ever be normal again. I've learned lately that if it's something I chose to do, I have to be ok with it. And I have to be ok with myself for making that choice, even if I've come to see it was the wrong one. I still fall into the trap sometimes, though...of blamign myself. And that's what does a hell of a lot more damage.
But I think some people must have a problem with the confronting, owning part too. Because if you just shove your mistakes under the rug, minimize them, or dissociate yourself from them, you can't really ever move on either...and worse, you're not getting the STRENGTH that comes with overcoming them. In fact, I think you're weaker for it.

I'm not saying you should just do whatever you want--hurt people, act immorally, whatever--and then just FORGIVE yourself for it without feeling remorse. Maybe it's coming off like that. I just mean...you can't let yourself slip into the endless cycle of blaming yourself and hating yourself when you end up somewhere you never thought you'd be.

I just think it's strange because it's so opposite of how we (or at least I..) think of mistakes in general. That what you do dictates where you end up. That's not true. It's what you DO with what you do...with the choices you make
The bottom line is this:
It's not your actions or your past or the choices you make that bring you down and do the damage, it's your ability to forgive yourself.
And if you can't find that ability...well, then I guess you've made the only real mistake you can make.

So much better...?

It's May.
This Friday, one year ago, I graduated.
A year ago I was finishing finals, passing out the senior issue, reveling in mini-o.
Preparing for summer, wondering about fall, and pretending June 2 did not exist.


The background of my computer is this picture that was take after graduation rehearsal.


Every time I open my laptop, it stares back at me.



And it reminds me just how far I've come in the past year. I think I've really grown up. And being away probably does that to you...having to take responsibility for everything. (Even if I'm not FULLY there, making money, worrying about rent, and even if there's a snadwhich place that takes meal points so I won't STARVE etc.) If I don't DO it, it doesn't happen.

I've opened myself up a lot. I think I'm more easy going.

Mostly...I think it's that I feel more like an adult. And the scary thing is, the reason is because I'm half way there. I've got one foot in the door.

I've lived with another person for a school year in one room. Spent, what, 30% of my time at a desk that so many people have used before me and so me people will use after me (which is weird to me, because it felt so intimately MINE. And in a few months it will be so throughly someone else's) And I'll probably never see her or that room again. Or the stairwell I spent much of November and December crying in on the phone to Erin, working through things. I won't sit there again.



I feel a billion years away from what I was.

I don't know if I even feel like the same person. And I don't think that's a bad thing. I've kept the parts I like, but I've improved and changed some of the others. And isn't that what life's about? A continual re-drafting of ourselves.

But...I like who I've become.

It's weird to be back in the same place. But sometimes that's the only way to compare where you were then with where you are now and to see how far you've come.

Whoa, two posts right away. Don't get used to this.

Isn't it ironic?

This isn't going to be bold and deep, but it is what it is. Sometimes life isn't bold and deep.

Here's what life is, and follow me here, this metaphor is going to be weak:

Life is having a phone. One you like, with which you are perfectly happy. All contacts in place. That goes sailing into a mug of hot chocolate.
So you go back to an old phone. That you liked. And you adjust. Get new contacts, get things in place. But just as you are, it falls of a shelf.
Stranded.
So you get a new one. And learn how to work its stupid backwards buttons, and get the contacts sorted out. And just as you're getting comfortable, right after a BIG turning point in your life...you turn it off. And, at the most critical moment, it won't turn back on again. Or really...it WILL turn back on again, but all it will do is play the opening music in a loop.

(I didn't even THROW it this time. It's all by itself.)

But here's life, right here: You've end up back with the original phone. In which you just deleted all the contacts and all the memories. 4. days. before.
With a voicemail.
And 5 text messages with no way to fix what they've thought.

And life is:

Planning a trip to Normal, Illinois. Only to have a broken down car and spend 7 hours in a village tow shop with a cat. Named Lucky.

Full circle, eh?

This isn't a pity party. I just can't shake the feeling that these things mean something more than just a cat and a phone. And I'm treading water trying to figure out some kind of deep meaning or lesson or reason WHY life works this--because they're just too perfectly disasterous to be anything but significant, right?
Maybe I can't know...maybe we can't know? Maybe it'll reveal itself somewhere down the road and all I can do is keep living until I feel that final click when everything snaps into place and it all makes sense and I realize it's all for a reason. I can't know.

I'm going under.
Drowning in Irony.