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.)
Thursday, July 29, 2010
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
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