I wanted time to speed up. Everything seemed like it was moving slower than a tortoise going for an afternoon stroll. I wanted everything to end. It seemed like those 4 years would drag on and would take up my whole life. I always thought that those 4 years would be filled with tears of stress and sadness. I really believed they were going to be the worst 4 years of my life.
But, now, I’m sitting in my last class of high school and all I’m asking for is five more minutes. Everything flashed by in the blink of an eye. I want to relive so many things. Those 4 years went by too fast and seemed like they were one of the smallest parts of my life. The years were filled with tears of stress and sadness, but they were also filled with happiness and love. So far they have been the best 4 years of my life; I made so many friends, had so many new experiences, and really learned who I was. I just want to live in it for five more minutes.
When I look in the mirror, that is all I see. Fat everywhere. I always look down and wonder how I got like this.
Over the summer, I worked out every day and ate well. People could actually see the difference and I was happy.
Now, I sit in my dorm doing nothing but gaining weight. I can’t even look at my prom photos because of all the fat I see on myself.
My friends and boyfriend don’t understand what I mean when I say I am fat. Somehow they don’t see it, but that’s all I see.
I mean, maybe I am the problem. Maybe my brain is messed up and that’s why I see myself the way I do. I have never been able to see myself as anything but fat since fifth grade. But, now, when I look back I know that was never true, so maybe I can only ever see myself as fat no matter what I do.
I wish I could look at myself and just see how I truly am to everyone else around me.
Maybe this summer once I go back to the gym everything will be different, but I don’t know if I will ever really see what I look like when I look in the mirror.
I know the saying: “If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours. If it doesn’t come back, it was never meant to be.” It’s true for some people and perfect for them, but it’s shit. Why should I have to set you free to know that you’re the right one?
I love you and I don’t want to set you free to know that. When I look at you, I don’t doubt anything about us, so why should I let you go?
At the same time, I don’t want to hold you back. I know it’s four years and that’s too long to stay in a long distance relationship, but I want to be selfish and keep you.
There is a big chance that you will come back, but how do I know that is going to happen? Four years is a long time, we both could meet new people or become new people.
Part of me wants to ignore every guy I meet in college to make sure I am single when you move to Tennessee, but what if you meet someone that makes you happier than I ever could?
The other part of me wants to move on and date many guys so I am not the one stuck in the past hopelessly in love with someone who found somebody else, but I know that I won’t be able to do that.
I love you so much and I don’t want to hold you back. I wish that this relationship didn’t hold you back, but I guess if it does I will let you go.
I never thought those numbers could ever mean so much to me. I have five weeks, twenty-five weekdays, and thirty-two days left of my senior year. I will be free once those are all zero.
I will officially be done with school. I will be a college girl. I still can’t believe I am almost done with the four years I dreaded the most my whole life. The four years I wanted to be done are almost that: done.
I am a very different person from who I imagined myself to be and I know I am not done growing and figuring myself out, but I love who I’ve become and don’t want to change anything. I almost wish I could pause these last few weeks and live in them for a little while longer.
I can’t wait to get away from here. To start my life with no boundaries. These weeks are something that can’t go by fast enough.
I wish these weeks would pass by in the blink of an eye, but I wish I could look back on them and remember everything I am feeling now.
“Easter-worshipers.” What does that even mean? Yes, we were at church on Easter, but, no, that does not mean we are Easter-worshipers. It means we are the scary C-word.
We did not go to a service to worship Easter, we were there to worship the day Jesus Christ did the unthinkable, unimaginable, impossible, and rose from the dead.
I did not sit in those pews to talk about the Easter bunny and think about the Easter egg hunt I would be helping out with later. I sat in pews to talk about and worship my savior.
Those people whose lives were taken from them did not go to church that day planning to worship Easter. They went there to hear about Jesus Christ and how he died on the cross for our sins. They were there because they were the C-words or at least interested in learning about the C-word.
The C-word is not a bad word and I am tired of feeling like it is. True C-words are the most loving people. We are taught to love everyone and forgive everyone like God does. Yet these past few years I have started to feel as though being a C-word is wrong and I am a horrible person. And this past week, holy week, has made me scared about my future as a C-word with all the attacks on C-words. The media can’t even say the C-word.
We are Christians and proud, so don’t be afraid to call us what we are: Christians.
I’ve written so many drafts trying to talk about this, but no matter what I write nothing sounds right. This is not something I can write in one sitting. The words have to be perfect.
It seems like no matter how many times I write it, it still sounds horrible. I can’t even write this post where I don’t say what the other post says.
I can’t bring up what is in the other post because just bringing it up is not right to me. Everything about it has to be perfect.
It will probably be the last blog post I write because that is how long it will take to perfect. The thing I want to say is probably one of the hardest things I have ever written. I don’t know how to not sound naive when saying it.
I hope that I can actually put it into words and that it is enough for him.
I sat in my chair sitting not believing what I had just heard. Another student had just told me that you cheated on me the whole relationship and he’s pretty sure you left me for her.
I know it’s been a year and I happy in my current relationship, but for some reason, it stings a little.
Actually, it stings a lot. I am no longer in love with you and still wonder why I ever was, but I still can’t believe it was all a game to you. You were the first person I gave my full heart to, the person I trusted everything with, and the person I was ready to do anything for.
I wish you just told me so I didn’t find out from someone else or that you left me before you cheated because honestly, that would have hurt less.
If I would have found this out before I found my current boyfriend, I honestly don’t know how I would have been able to trust anyone again. I am happy that I moved on and my current boyfriend taught me how much better men can be, but it stings to think about what you did and it’s going to be something I will carry with me in every relationship.
Although I am beyond happy now, I still feel that hurt and betrayal from you, like you stabbed me in the back.