Wednesday, November 30, 2011

No good life is led on maybes.

"Here's my palm; care to read it?"





Because, who knows, maybe you'll learn something.
Maybe you can tell my why I'm so constantly on the verge of tears lately, for no good reason; I've seen my two best friends more in the past three days than I have in the previous two weeks, I'm understanding my math, and I've been reading more often.  Why am I on the verge of tears?  And why can't I seem to talk to him about it anymore?
Maybe you can tell me how I feel; what I think and what I don't.  You could see, possibly, what I think of him and what, hopefully, he thinks of me.  Why I think I have to act a certain way when I don't and why I can't seem to talk to him anymore.
Maybe you could tell me how he really feels, from looking at the hand he once held.  Maybe it left something, residue, for lack of a better word; maybe from that, you can deduce why he's doing what he's done and why he's said what he said.
Maybe, also, you could decide how long my life will be.  But don't tell me; I don't want to know.  I prefer living in my dream of forever young; after all, we only grow up when we stop having fun.
Maybe I miss how we were.
Then again, maybe you can't.
But I know we can never go back.  So thanks, Mitchell, now I'm alone again.
Maybe you'll see a tired hand, fingernails painted some off color that you know I hate, but that's all.  Hands really don't tell you much.  If you really want answers, look at my eyes.  Eyes will tell you everything.
For one thing, if they're green, you'll know I've given up holding it back.
love always, laura.

Saturday, November 26, 2011

She likes the way he sings.

oh, if life were made of moments
even now and then a bad one
but if life were made or moments
you'd never know you had one






And yet, life is full of moments.
Moments are all around us, waiting for us.
So many moments could be taken and so many moments are missed.

Sometimes, you can't fully appreciate a moment
until it is a memory.

love always, laura.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Sometimes people leave you, halfway through the wood.

Life is a funny thing.






It's funny how when some people shoot up, others fall down.  It's funny how when something falls apart, other things fall together.  It's funny how when your something falls apart, someone else's something begins to fall together.
But Kelsey, I want us to stay best friends.  I always have and always will.
I shouldn't feel betrayed, I shouldn't feel even the slightest bit jealous.  I shouldn't wonder if she remembers.  I shouldn't still be hurt about it.  I shouldn't still give him such a cold shoulder, but I don't know how to reinstate a friendship-especially knowing what I do about him now.  Maybe I overreacted.  But, love, you know my old stories and so did he.  You know why I feel the way I do and you know why I'm acting the way I am.
Have we grown so far apart that you've forgotten?
I know I shouldn't feel like this.  I know I shouldn't wonder and I know I shouldn't blame myself.  I know there's nothing I can do that can make me completely happy anymore.  I love to be a part of something, I love to feel like I'm relied on and loved and that I am a part of it.  I know it could've all been down without me but I also know that I've changed in the eyes of many, and I love that.  I love you still, which is why I'm saying right now:  Be careful.
Be careful when he takes you places and brings his sister, be careful when he winks at you.  Be careful of his arms and how they sneak around you.  I know you may not like him now but I know you have and I know that it's likely you might in the future again, and I want you to be careful.  Because the feeling of being betrayed by someone like him, someone that you would have never expected, is not one I want you to go through.  You may be older than me by seven months, but I have experience and I understand some things.  You're my sweet, innocent best friend and I couldn't bear to watch you lose that.  I ask that you take the time to re-read the card that I gave to you for your birthday again.  I ask that you think and be careful what you say around and to people.  Be careful, and I love you.
love always, laura.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Meow.

I want my own special cliche.






I want one of those silly, cheesy, romantic cliches where the guy notices everything about the girl and whispers about her to his friends and buys her roses when she's feeling down [or taco bell] and she doesn't even have to tell him when she's feeling down because he knows her "isms" so well that he can just tell.
Taft?
I want a guy to randomly wrap me in his arms and give me a cliche bear hug and hold me tight and maybe whisper in my ear that it's all going to be okay because he can tell I'm stressed and worn out and he knows this is just what I need because he will know me so well.
Chaz?
I want a guy to smile every time he sees me or thinks of me and to always catch my eye in that cliche romance novel kind of way, where instead of looking away we both hold our gazes and slowly he smiles or winks or whatever he thinks would make me feel the most special [and he'd know because he knows me so well.]
...Connor?!
I want to be completely oblivious of his feelings [maybe have a crush on him too] and him feel frustrated because everyone but me can see that he's heels over head for me [our head is already over our heels, so I modified it] and it not even to matter that I'm so awkward and say the randomest things and have conversations in Tabby [it's a cat language].  He'd just accept me for who I am.
Darn darn darn I don't even know anyone that would every fit these!
I just want a guy to care.  I want him to want to make me happy and to try in subtle ways.  I want my cliche John or Kent or Harry or any other cliche character that I've read about.
No one would feel this way for me.  Darn darn darn darn darn.
I think cliches can be good.
It's fine I don't get one.
love always, laura.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Before we all fall.

Most of the time you just don't know how and why the threads are looped together, and that's okay.
Do a good thing and something bad happens.
Do a bad thing and something good happens.
Do nothing and everything explodes.

[Before I Fall by Lauren Oliver.  My favorite book.]






How different we would act if we knew it were our last day.

How different everything would be and everything would seem.

Our problem isn't that we're afraid of death, it's that we're afraid of goodbye.  Who wants to say goodbye to the sights and the sounds and the feelings and most of all, the people?  The other people that we connect with because secretly, we're all the same?  And yet, we're all so different.  How could anyone say goodbye to the people that wait for you to get inside of your house at eleven thirty at night, and then let you hang out in your car for half an hour because the garage code isn't working and alex doesn't get home until midnight? [Thank you, Connor.]  How could anyone say goodbye to singing along to songs you don't know and stepping on the bright green moss around your pond?  How could we say goodbye to the sun rising in the morning or the Friday nights where you don't have to worry about what time it is?  There is so much to see if you look for it and so much to hear if you listen for it and so much to feel if you're ready for it.  What does it really matter if he'll never like you back?  At least you know you can feel for someone.  At least you know you have hope.  At least you know life moves on.  So what if he kissed more than you that week?  Does it matter now, when you don't feel for him anymore?  Give more than you get, smile more than you frown, listen a little too less than you should and do more than is neccessary.  Hold tighter before you let go, don't leave too early but don't stay too long either because there's too much to experience and too little time.  No one really lives forever, even though we all live like that.  So worry less and live more because nothing is going to matter when you're dead.

After all, the only reason we say goodbye is so that we can come back again.
love always, laura.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

And suddenly it's November again.

And you lose your mind.
[inside my skull, little elves are running around saying,
"Where'd it go?? IT WAS RIGHT HERE!!"]







Not everything that smiles is nice, not everything that laughs is kind.
Not everything that hugs can be trusted.  Not everything that cries should be pitied.
Not everything that happens is observed.  Not everything that's observed, happens.

Do you ever get worried because it seems like your best friend is upset at you so you wrote her a note about what you found out today and you can't get over it and you almost cried while figuring out some puzzle of a chimney and you're not going to have time to sew the elastics/ribbons onto your second pointe shoe which means you're going to have to suffer yet another class with worn out shoes which will probably make your other toenail fall off, and the guy you thought you liked is just like the one before and the guy you think you like will never like you and it feels like you should have more homework even though you're grateful you don't and you just want to help everyone but you think you're starting to be annoying to all the seniors but you end up texting Davis anyway and he calls you and you don't answer so he leaves a voicemail that makes the heat rise behind your closed eyes and spill out onto your kitten, and you reflect on the strangness of how when your eyes are closed the tears are hot but when they spill out their cold, and your kitten mews and licks your face all over and it makes you feel two dollars better and you read one of your favorite blogs and you're shocked to see one of your biggest pet peeves in the title and you feel strangely let down, and you've been reading and re-reading your favorite book for the past three days because it's just so incredible and you've been sleeping with an extra blanket and snuggling extra close to what would appear to be a teddy bear but what is really the guy you like, and you never texted that one guy back and you're worried that you will see him and not know what to say or won't see him and he'll think you're avoiding him but honestly you feel like you deserve more even if you don't [even if you do] and your feet have two layers of sock on them but they're still freezing and it's someone's birthday tomorrow and you've decided you're going to text him even though it's a little stalkery that you still remember his number and his birthday, and you really just wish that tomorrow all the guys you love will give you a big bear hug, especially Chaz because his hugs make you feel like you're being enveloped in a cacoon of cotton candy and he just makes you smile in general, and also you really really wish that after building tomorrow someone will kidnap you and take you to taco bell because they think you need to be cheered up and you can't stop hoping even though you know it's simply not going to happen and for some reason you can't find one of your favorite shirts so you have to wear something else and you're tired of being frozen, you're tired of the wind, you miss summer and the warmth it brings you and you can't stop worrying about that dang pointe shoe that you know you won't have time for in the coming days...and to top it all off, you just wrote an incredibly long post about absolutely nothing that you know no one took the time to actually read through completely, and you can't exactly blame them.  Also did I mention that this post happened to also be an incredibly long run-on sentence, which secretly you sometimes like?

Yeah.  Me too.

love always, laura.