Life
Things change and people change and life gets harder daily; but not the bad hard - the kind of hard that makes like worth living. The kind of hard that makes you a better person because you're actually motivated by the desire to be more. Not just some spoiled brat whose recieved everything on a silver plater.
The hard that makes life great.
Honestly.
I've reread some of the past entries that I've written - oh... years ago - and life seemed so different then. I can't even remember what a life like that was like. I think I was too sad and too lost and overriden with hormones. And that's a lame excuse for sounding as suicidal as I once did - but it's the only one that pleases me. Hormones. Otherwise, I might get suicidal again thinking about how depressing I was.
I'm glad that part of my life is over.
Thank you, God; in the name of the father, the son, the holy spirit. Amen.
I'm glad I got through it - you know? Those weird stages of puberty and adolescence. I have three weeks left of being a teenager. Three weeks left of being able to use 'teen' as an excuse for suicidal behavior.
After that - I'll be a 'young' woman. The kind that you see on reality TV shows like the real world. And girls gone wild. And MTV's springbreak.
Honestly.
I don't know what happened, but I think I bypassed all of that - getting plastered and doing a triplefrenchkiss with two other people with tongue piercings. I think one night of bad decision SUMMER 2004 was the only night I ever felt like some sort of partygirl. Some sort of ho.
I'm glad. I have more to think about than partying every night. But I am human - you know - I do have the occasional drink. Everyone's entitled to a good time. I'm just saying I'm different from what happened to my highschool friends.
They're all sorority girls. 'nuff said.
And I miss them. A lot. And I want to see them and relive the old times. And when I think about it - I get all icky with sentimentality. They've changed. I've changed.
We lead completely different lives now.
And Scott.
Scott is still beautiful with his hazel eyes and brown hair and goofy grin. And September 2 feels like my birthday - it feels so good.
:/
But we're different now too. And on late night phone calls at 11:11 at night we have nothing to say because we have nothing in common. And two years of being apart in a long distance relationship has put a strain on who we are as people. And sometimes, I forget that we have five years under our belts.
But, I love him. Love him.
To the depts of every part of me. To the part of that I don't remember ever being. To the part of me who I am now. And to the part of who I want to be so bad in the future.
But things change there too. And we're still together and happy, but different because life goes on. And people change. And I have three weeks - and counting down - to able to act suicidal and have an excuse.
And in those three weeks, I should act as young as possible and wear black nailpolish and listen to emo music. And turn off all the lights in the bathroom and listen to Connor Oberst. And just suck these last three weeks for all their worth.
Sometimes, I want to be a kid forever. Not the suicidal stage - kind of kid. The kid that likes to cut out paper hearts and build sandcastles and laughs too much and runs too much. I want to be that kid. Forever. Forever. Forever.
Saying something three times makes it important. I know from experience. Repitition makes something real. And all you have to do is repeat exactly what you want and you'll get it. Like a prayer.
So close your eyes and (insert prayer); the name of the father, the son, the holy spirit. Amen.