Finally, a Place to Be

While my mother waters plants, my father loads his gun.
He says, "Death will bring us back to God, just like the setting sun is returned to the lonely ocean."

University can be really hard at times. Sometimes, I just wake up with that feeling like, "Today is going to be terrible. I just want to lay in bed and close my eyes and waste it away staring at the backs of my eyelids. I do not want to talk. I do not want to socialise. I do not want to move. I just want today to be over, now."
Then there's times when I have so much work and I can't even imagine getting it all done. Times when I feel so left out. Times when I feel like I have no one (except Robin, haha). Times when I miss my mom so much, and I regret not getting to know her better when I was at home. Times when I miss my dad, and I miss sitting down after dinner, taking our "15" (more like an hour) and watching a war movie. Times when I can't stop thinking about Zach and how much I love him, and how things couldn't work out, and I think I'll never be about to focus. Times when I'm walking across campus and I feel like everyone's looking at me... in a bad way. Times when I want to drop out and go to New York and become an artist or something crazy. Or run away to Maine. Or just drop off the face of the Earth and have no one to love, no one to worry about, nothing to do.
But I know through all the awkwardness and confusion and worry and nostalgia, something implicit is happening to me. Every time I cry or feel left out or work through my readings when I feel like crap, something is happening inside of me. I know it. Remember who I was at the beginning of high school? I was so different. I was an attention whore, and I treated my boyfriend like crap. I treated my parents like crap, too. I was so immature! I'm still immature, but I'm growing. It's nice to know I'm headed somewhere, at least in my own personal self.
I'm excited about running! After running the 10K Holy Half (less than a month!), I want to run something in the 8-11 mile range (maybe even a half marathon this summer--if I'm ready!), and then work on getting faster. I'm quite slow, but I can run longer than I ever thought I'd be able to. I remember when Coach Hausmann would say, "Okay girls, run 3 miles" and it would sound like SO MUCH! Now that would be a welcome short run break from my usual 5-7 mile runs. Today I ran the Holy Half course. It was great! It even went a little off campus... I felt so *bold*, running off campus by the cars and streets of South Bend! I can't wait to explore the other running trails (though limited...) around South Bend. It'll help me get accustomed to the town before I move off campus. It won't be too long from now... I'm almost a sophomore. Woah! Cool! It'll be fun to explore some new trails, too. Not that I'm sick of the lakes yet. Running around the lakes is beautiful, but there's SO MUCH MUD! And worse, it's an odd ice/mud/water mixture, so when it got in my shoes, my toes were cold and dirty and wet. Bad combination. And it was unavoidable. I'm pretty sure my running shoes are going to be wrecked my March 23... Oh well. I don't know where else I can get nice Asics like the ones I have. Hm. I am so lacking in running supplies. I'm just a newbie! It's fun but frustrating. Also, when I go to San Diego and San Francisco, I wanna find cool running places. Like running on the beach in San Diego! Oh so nice.
Well okay, time to watch something on Netflix and go sleepy bye! Tomorrow will be busy...

I'm Trying So Hard

We strangers know each other now as part of the whole design.

I'm trying so hard to write down something. I'm letting go; that's good. But it seems like words just don't fit it. Why's that?

Stay Young, Go Dancing

We're one mistake from being together.

So I'm sitting in Jeannette and Robin's dorm room (as per usual) listening to popular songs from 2008-ish, 2009-ish, when I was a freshman in high school. Such nostalgia. Although I didn't really like the pop music (I still don't like today's music...), it's weird to hear it and think, "Oh wow, that song is so *old*!" I remember when Soulja Boy Tell Em was a super-hit and the lame school DJs (AKA an iPod or some older students) were playing "Shake It" by Metro Station and it was hip! Now I hear it and I'm like, "Oh I remember that Valentine's Day dance in freshman year when blah blah blah happened!" It's funny how my time spent with Joe wasn't as special as my times with Zach. I guess after all is said and done, I didn't like Joe that much. Weird, because at the time I thought I really did. I guess in the future when I meet another guy I can fall in love with, I'll be like, "Oh this is so different from Joe and Zach!" I know that's a long ways away though. I really don't mind being single, actually. I remember when I was younger (like 13) all I wanted was a boyfriend. I was so curious about how kissing felt or how it would feel to have a guy's arm around my shoulder. Now that I'm a bit older and I know how these things are (though not that much... I've only "been with" two guys...), I know that it's really nice to kiss and hold someone's hand and slow dance and be romantic, but it's worth waiting for the right guy. I could never be one of those girls who has a new beau every month or even every year. I'm really serious about it. I know that Zach is wonderful and pretty much everything I want in a guy, but if he cannot love me then he cannot love me. It's just that simple. And I shouldn't disrespect myself by trying to be with someone who doesn't want to be with me. If he changes his mind and still wants a relationship, well, cool (as long as I still do... Depends when this would happen...). But if not, I shouldn't hang on to foolish hope. So I'm just fine being single. I actually like it. I've learned a lot from Joe and Zach. I'm glad that Joe and I are all cool and stuff and not hating each other (it's been 4 years--why would we??). Right now things are awkward-ish with Zach, but it's okay. I don't think it'll last forever. I kind-of swerve back and forth between being really upset about it and wishing he could love me, and then I just tell myself it's all right and it'll end. I really do want to be his friend, though. He's really cool and we have so much fun together! It'd be a shame to lose such a good friend just because we couldn't overcome a hard time. I know Jenna and I went through a lot of hard times together, but we've stayed friends. Even when we were really mad at each other. Things seem bad-ish (I'm saying -ish so much!) right now in this moment, but who knows, maybe they'll get better over the summer? I hope we get to do some of the cool things on our list... I also want to go to our house again and hang out and just talk. That's one thing I've always liked about Zach: we can just talk for hours and it doesn't get boring or old. It feels like time goes so fast when we're together, which is sad because I like our times together. I'm excited, though, to hang out. And hopefully he'll be able to drive, too, so it'll be a bit easier. We'll see. Can't wait! The thing I did learn from briefly being with Zach is what it feels like to be with someone I really love. It's amazing... There's no way to describe the excitement of it. Even the simplest thing, like going to the mall, becomes an adventure! And Zach is actually a nice guy and a gentleman (Joe wasn't as much... I mean, he was nice, but he was kind-of immature), so I'm glad I got to learn what it's like to be treated well. He also wouldn't really tolerate excluding people just because we're together, which I've learned to like (to a point). I know when I meet a nice guy next, I won't want to become like *that* couple. You know, the one that's always together and they're each other's lives and other people feel awkward around. I'd want to be more like Kyle and Jenna. They're fun to hang out with and they have separate friends and lives, but they're also really good together. I used to think that it was "cute" to be the always-together couple, but that'd be creepy and annoying. Hmm. Maybe that's why Zach didn't want to hang out so much. I don't know. The reason I wanted to spend more time with him, though, isn't because I felt like I *should*, but because I just wanted to! We have fun, and why not have fun when you can, right? We'll see how this summer goes. I know I want to paint more... Take an art class with Jenna! I want to go to the beach with friends at least once... Do music camp again maybe... Work at the Container Store? Run more! (Holy Half 10K is in a month! AHH!)... What else... Go to the pool and the lake... Watch movies... Sleepovers... Drive all over town, and out of town... Go downtown... Austin has so much more to do than South Bend, that's for sure! All I have to look forward to here is Eddy Street Commons and Hobby Lobby--which, by the way, I am excited to go to this weekend to buy PAINT!! WOO!! Ooh, I could also write more music this summer. I don't have much of a chance to here.

Let's see... This blog post is pretty normal. Woah! Well I should be reading Philosophy. It's a long reading and I *hate* reading for Philosophy... But of course I am procrastinating! Let's see... Tomorrow I have to walk to Club Hes in the morning (ew that means leaving for class 10 minutes earlier than usual... like, 9:10! So early!) and then I have Contemporary Topics (YUCK YUCK YUCK) in Rolf's (so at least it's close... Yay?) and then lunch at 1:45... Then... running! So I'll be done around 4 PM... Then a bit of homework (maybe) and dinner, then more homework, relaxation time, and sleepy time! Sounds fun... sounds normal. Hmm. Well, the good news is that after this week is done, there's only two weeks until SPRING BREAK! YUSS! And then I'm halfway done with the semester. Then there's only a quarter left of FRESHMAN YEAR! NO MORE BEING A FRESHMAN! YESS! I hate being a freshman... I want to be a sophomore. The best is being a senior because you're all settled in and nostalgic. Can't wait.

So I started this blog post to remind my future self who might read this: GO DANCING WITH YOUR FUTURE SIGNIFICANT OTHER, AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE (AMAP)! Also, make sure he can play guitar or something so you can sing together. And... that he likes to exercise so you can go on long runs (on the beach, how sweet!) together... What else.. Yeah, I'll think of more later. But definitely go dancing. !!! SO IMPORTANT! Okay, should I read for Philosophy now? Yeah? Oh well, okay.

Slices of the Curtain Provide a View to the Construction of a New Hotel

Will you stay with me? Will you be my love?

And then you realise:
It's all just minutes round a clock.
The goal.
Minutes that fly without a handle, no reality to hold him back.
A goal you had as a young man.
The hours they come so lightly, so flippantly,
as if it were of no matter.
The goal.
The goals you had when the sun was full of lust,
When spring was full of a fluid
To drip below the noose,
Dry your neck of blood like a tired mother.

And then you know:
You can't stand their touches,
You memorise the feel of a fingernail on an eyebrow
You rehearse the sound of laughter appropriate for only a parlor at noon.
You kill the love that I put inside of you.
And you kill me, too.

I didn't realise I knew you
It's of no matter
to say
after you've gone,
That I cannot stop loving your loveless heart.

I could make it better, did you know that? I could teach you, and I could hold you when you're tired. I could not hold you when you want to run away from it, so fast that your feet blur in with grass and dirt. If you want to run away, I'd carve the path; I'd set the clocks and the stops; I'd bring you water at the end of the long, wicked trail. You know I would.

But, once again, it's all a loveless heart that got put into your chest.
[I could lay my head down there some days back.
Could I once more?]
Who put it there, I do not know.
It's wrong and vile that you should have it.
It's wrong and vile that I should not have it.

You don't want me,
so I go.

I can walk at night amidst those minutes I waste,
I waste words on my agenda
I waste wisdom on practice
I waste my life away on impossible fancies.

....

Jeannette is putting on make-up
A small mirror in her hands.
I can see books and clothes sprayed like the sky of
a moment in a life in a tiny lovely town
I can see her eyelashes now.
Robin sits behind me
She is quiet and focused
Drinking tea, on a happy sunny Sunday.

And when all I could think about is you
For a small, wonder part of this day,
I forgot
And I sipped at tea from Ohio
With a strainer
In a Styrofoam cup
Warm
Snow melting outside in Indiana
Music in my ears
Eliot's words in my eyes
I felt okay then.
I felt fine.

Oslo in the Summertime

I like that song.

I should try writing again.

What can I write about?

Oslo in the Summertime?

There's a cold wind coming from another town, but I ignore that. I'm not there; I'm not where they wear jackets with little feathers and let the children slide around in the ice. I'm not "Up North," where kids with big sweaters carry around books and feel okay about their futures. Nor am I in the South, deep down where big fruit hang from small, leafy trees. Here I am, right in the middle of it all. In the middle of home. And it's here where the cold winds reach a crossroad and greet each other and move on into the next, next town. It's quite nice to sit in the middle of the city square, the foreign winds exchanging foreign greetings amidst the scene of my hair, and between my fingers they ride. I have the power to direct them. I have the power of a nation; to send the South to the West and the Northwest further North. It's not freedom, though. Freedom and power could never coexist.

I see the boy about a hundred yards away, kicking around the leaves. Mrs. Oslo always picks them up, one by one, and stacks them into sweet little piles. Then she quiets down, picks up the phone, and dials her daughter in a far off country, adding up her bills to great sums. She sits on her porch and talks quietly about politics and the weather for hours. She talks so much that I wonder if her daughter is even on the other line, or if she is just talking to herself. Maybe she talks to ghosts, is what Danny Riverton said. That kid's a hoot.

The boy is new here, I know that much. I can see it in his green eyes, which shine with wonder as he looks upwards toward my familiar sky. He counts the clouds, lays in the grass, touches the shops' windows. As he does this, he gets closer to me. I can see his brown hair and his skinny shoulders as they navigate themselves in my town. He belongs here, or he will one day. I say hello.

Hello.

It's quiet for a while until he responds.

Mrs. Oslo is full of good ideas. She told me once that if we just killed all the houses and put up tents in the city square, we could all understand each other better. She says her daughter went away to a place where they did that.

He looks at the back of his hands for a moment. Did you know that when I was little, I burnt the backs of my hands so badly, they gave me new ones? New backs on my hands, I mean. They couldn't get me new hands.

 Yes, he'll belong someday.

Well when I was little, I nearly died of a disease. No one's heard of it, so there's no use in telling you. I sit down in the wet grass and touch the spot next to me. He sits.

For the next three weeks, we talked about how we got hurt when we were little. For the two following, we talked about pets we owned that ran away and got run over, including the mysterious case of my pet fish Lolly. In the month following that, we discussed the towns we had traveled to that we wished we could have stayed in forever. After that, we couldn't find anything nice to talk about, so we just played 20 Questions.

He was a good friend, if I ever had one in a town like mine.

I learned his name after knowing him for four months, and it changed everything. He decided to tell me on a windy grey fall night. Don't you ask people's names when you meet them? 

No, why would I?

'Cause. How else could you call to them in a crowded room?

I figured out everyone's the same. Everyone wants to hear their name called out in a crowded room, so if you call something loud enough, everyone will turn to look at you.  

Well I wouldn't. I got pride. I got a name, and if you don't call it, I won't look at you.

I sat there, looking up at the emerging starlight. I saw the Big Dipper, but doesn't everybody?

It's Jady, by the way. 

The North Star is so bright that sometimes I think the sun ought to quit its job. Jady looks over at me and shakes my shoulder. He thinks I want to hear my name called out in our room, crowded with starlight and the stories Mrs. Oslo tells, but I don't. I want to keep quiet and sit still until he falls asleep and I can see if his hands are really burnt. But he keeps shaking my shoulder.

That's a good name for a kid like you. It's pretty foreign.

He's satisfied with the answer, so he picks up his body with a hop to the feet and carries on home, somewhere I don't know. Since I was little I supposed that everyone had a home to go to when conversation stopped. I supposed that there was a hiding place for everyone, if they don't like to feel to winds like I do. But when conversations stopped and Jady had to take his leave, he didn't have a hiding place. Instead, he had Mrs. Oslo. He would walk away from me slowly and toughly, skinny shoulders up high around his brown hair. He would take this old path down by the creek, and it would lead him up to a high bank where he could sit and think about me. And he would. He would think about me for a good long time, and I know he would wonder what my name is. Then, every night and every day, he would should his little brown hairs at the creek in solitude and step back to the cit square. If he spotted me sitting there, he would watch me until I left. Then when I left, he would go to Mrs. Oslo's and sleep on her couch. He did it every day.

I never got tired of his conversations, even though they would last for years sometimes. He'd stop and break and carry on the next day. But the topic would continue relentlessly for the longest time. One day I see him on the phone on Mrs. Oslo's porch.

One second please. He says to the person on the other line. He walks over to me and I see he is tired. He has been talking for too long. Who does he talk to? What ghosts? I want to ask him but he is so tired; you need to understand how tired he was. Near the point of death. So I hold him like a friend for a while, and then like a boy. When he rests against my arms, he is longer a human. He becomes a shapeless bag of ideas, a bodiless soul searching in the wrong town at the wrong time. I cannot give him the things he wants from the foreign winds. He thinks I can, I know he does. He thinks it because I have felt the winds move my body, and he think they have told me their secrets. What he doesn't know, though, is that I never listen to anything but the hum of the starlight in my ears. I didn't listen to any word he had ever said to me, and now I am glad I didn't. Mrs. Oslo, who hears nothing, listens to it all. I don't know how the lady knows what she knows, but she gave Jady the phone because he needed a ghost right then. The hum of stars is my life, there right in my bones, but Jady needs a ghost. So I hold him. I stay silent; so does he.

It's not a love story just because there's love in the nights and days we met. It would be too much to say that I ever miss him now. He lives somewhere where the cold winds come from, and he sends them off my way. He waits for me to send one back some day, but I just can't do that to him. If I did, he would come back. He would start to talk about the funny sweaters his grandparents wore or the bad habits he tried to break, and I can't hear that anymore. So I sit in silence, feeling his cold wind, wishing I could have been a ghost a long time ago.

If I Know Only One Thing

It's that everything that I see in the world outside is so inconceivable often I barely can speak.

Fuck. It's all so true. What am I even waiting for now? When I get back for the summer, will it be the same? Can I make it the same? It sucks to know that one of the only things I've ever cared about may just not work out. I can't erase the fact that I love him. It's useless. So I'll have to accept it. Yeah, I love him. Now what? What do I even do with that? Everything would be just fine if he would wait until summer. If he could just wait for me to come home, I'll be there in 3 months. I'll come see him, and we'll spend some days together and laugh again like old times. We'll get into trouble like old times, have adventures and make fun of everything popular together. We'll talk for hours on the phone, we'll tell each other how our days are going, and about the run we went on in the morning, about naps we take, yoga lessons we go to, stupid things that make up lazy summer days. We'll talk everyday, because we want to, and because we can. We'll hear each other's stories and drive around town with the windows down, messy hair. We'll go dancing. We'll anticipate and worry and love and cure and smile. We'll be amazed at how our lives are. You see, I'm still at that point. I still want all of that, and I want it with you. No one else will do. I wish I could forget you, for both of our sakes. You deserve freedom and clarity, and I deserve peace and stability. But can't you see? I can see it. I can see that no one is like you, no matter where I go. No one does to me what you do. No one... No one can replace the things we've done, the talks we've had, the brief but wonderful history we've had. Sometimes I wish someone closer, older, more possible would swoop down and take your place. George won't do. He just won't. I want someone just like you. Someone I can be in love with. Why can't you be in love with me? I know right now is a horrible time, considering I'm literally 1,000 miles away from you. I'm in a different time zone. I am in college, you are in high school. You're so young, and I'm trying to figure out my life. But the core of you and the core of me; those fit together so well. When we talk, I know it. I've never been more sure of anything... That you're for me. Maybe I'm not for you? The more you push away, the more I want you. I could make you happy. I am a good person when I'm around you. I make friends and I feel hopeful and happy and like doing new things. I feel like I'm full of life. I feel like I can care about someone and love... I feel fine! I feel like dancing! We have such wonderful times. I just want to tell everyone about us. I'm so excited about you. It's been almost a year and I'm still head over heels for you, just as much as I was in the beginning. It hasn't lost its luster. So I've decided the only thing I can do is to make you love me as best I can. I can't give you up. If you tell me to, oh well, okay. I'd leave you be. But I'll be good to you, I'll be your friend and all, but I'll make you love me! I don't know how, but damn it I'll do my best. I feel like such a boy.

Why don't you love me!!

So I found out today that that guy's name in my Psych class is Richard Hamilton. He looks just like Sufjan Stevens and he's adorable. I want to be his friend. I asked George to become his friend so he can become mine. Yes, I am using George. No, I don't care. I hate who I am when I'm with George. I become this cold, talkative, calculating thing. I hate it. I am different with different people. I think new sides of me come out. With Zach, I'm warm, somewhat mean, friendly, laughing, sarcastic, adventurous, helpful, caring, loving. With George, I become the opposite. I really don't like him. Poor kid. I wonder if Zach think I'm annoying and weird. That's why I'm giving him his space. If he wants to be friends with me, he will. He'll come to me. He did it before, and if he wants, he'll do it again. I'm just so impatient! I need to remind myself of what I'm doing. I'm not giving him up, I'm just gauging his interest. So I'm playing games? Not really. I'm just curious. Let's see if I can do this.

Warning to self: I will get sad. I will want to talk to him. Just don't do it! Try this for the rest of this week and for next week. We'll do weekly check points. This week? Minimal texting, but still some. None Sunday (long,long talk the day before)... Some Monday and Yesterday, don't know yet for today. We'll see how that goes. We'll see if he calls.

Hmm this is so interesting! Yay! :-)

My life has become more complicated. That's why I should have focused on homework.

Something Now About Lauren

Ijustwanttogetoutofthisplaceandrunaway.

Yes, I am feeling that again. The restlessness of wanting to GO somewhere, BE someone. I went on over to Eddy Street and explored Urban Outfitters (for rich hipsters) a bit, and walked back. It's not enough. Nothing's ever enough. Duck Island wasn't enough. I am a fun junkie. And going to parties and getting drunk? That isn't fun. Then what is?? I have this insatiable desire to just LIVE. I don't know why, but I'm just busting out of my seams with it. I want to have an adventure. I will die if I don't! But what is there to even do? And who can I convince to do it with me? Hm. Those are the questions. If I could decide, I'd go and do it. I would! I always have this bit of wanderlust in me... But where to go? And I know I'll get lonely. I don't know what to do tonight. I just feel like I'm supposed to *do* something. BUT WHAT? What CAN I do? We need to run away sometimes. But how? I need to figure that out.

Peaceful Alone

Pretty soon you'll find it's the only little part of your life that you're keeping together.

So yeah. I am gaining some insight on how it feels to be Zach and George. Why? Well, if I feel for Zach what George could feel for me (which I doubt it, because I have the unlucky fortune of being headoverheels, whatever they call it), then I know how it sucks to be interested in someone who is not in you. It really, really does.

And then I know how Zach could feel, having someone interested in you and not being into them. Yeah. I could never be with George. It's harsh, but I just don't see him like I see Zach. He doesn't fascinate me, he doesn't engage me, he doesn't make me want to get in my Honda Accord and speed around the countryside at 80 miles per hour, blasting Sweet Disposition. He doesn't make me want to drive across town to see him. He doesn't make me dream about him and think about him. He just doesn't. He's just himself. Whatever, you know? It's weird how you just cannot force yourself to love someone. You can't! If I was with George, I know I'd be unhappy. Maybe I'd even be unhappy with Zach, because I'd know he doesn't love me in  the same way. I'd always have that doubt, and the pain that I'm holding him back from doing what he wants. I feel like I'm in some sort of a fucked up sandwich. But it is helping me gain insight, and I'm thankful to George for that. He may not know it, but what he's doing is actually helping in the oddest way possible. I never imagined this.

It's funny because with Zach, I remember all of our first long talks we had. They were so exciting. But with George it's like, yeah whatever, just like with Robin. Nothing special. Probably even worse than with Robin, because at least with her it's pretty fun you know? She's my first real best friend, so it's really fun and all. But nope. It's just not happening with George. Maybe if he started playing guitar, writing songs, singing better, running long distances, got green eyes and blonde hair and taller and muscles and less dramatic and more dramatic in a quieter way and calmer and less funny and more funny in a dark way... Basically, if he became Zach, then I'd go with him.

Sad, isn't it?