Category: friends

One Year

maydaygaskarthLeave a comment

One year ago I remember clearly.

I had my guitar on my shoulder, leaving the warm dorms to trek across the chilly campus to my weekly music lesson, but the air was different than usual.

Everyone was huddled outside, talking as they saw smoke in the distance and hues of red burning in the sky that felt so distant at that moment.

“Are you really going to your lesson right now? There’s a fire,” my friend asked me.

Of course I would go to my lesson. It was my favorite part of Monday nights. Plus, the fire was nowhere near us, nothing would happen, and nothing would change.

Oh, how I was wrong.

Everything changed.

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Yet, so many things stayed the same.

One year later, I’m getting ready to go to my Monday night guitar lesson.

I have a new guitar, but it means so much more now. I appreciate it more now.

I’m still in a dorm room, wondering what I’ll be getting for secret snowflake tomorrow.

But I’m in a new dorm room, with a new roommate, on a new part of campus.

I don’t have the same clothes I had a year ago. The same photos, yearbooks, or blankets.

But, I have the photos I’ve taken since then.

My stuffed animal and All Time Low pillow I saved from the fire.

I still have the memories of the fire.

The ones that haunt me.

The ones that bring me to tears thinking about what I lost, what my friends lost, and what the whole school lost.

But, the memories remind me of how I became a stronger person since.

How my friends became stronger.

How the school became stronger.

How the county’s stronger.

More united.

More appreciated.

I still remember the day I returned from Christmas break and stepped on to campus and moved into the new dorms.

Being welcomed by overwhelming support, welcome back goodie bags, and hugs from my friends.

Seeing my horse for the first time since the fire and knowing he was safe and healthy. That all the other horses were safe.

The fire was so destructive, so horrible, but so many things came out of it that I’m more thankful now for than ever.

It’s been one year and I’m still sensitive to the scent of smoke and fire, to the sound of news about other California fires on the TV.

But, one year later, the mountains are a little greener.

My home is still stronger than ever.

And that’s the most beautiful thing of all.

What I’m Grateful For

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So many things happened in 2018. Shootings, wildfires, and many other tragic events. In the midst of all the chaos and catastrophe the world is facing right now, it’s the small things in life that make me the most thankful and make life enjoyable.

My horse who always waits for me at the end of the school day.

For my roommate, who deals with me screaming in confusion and frustration at Criminal Minds and who also deals with my annoying rants and constant requests for food.

Being able to go home after being away at boarding school and knowing it wasn’t destroyed by the California fires.

For my friends, who are always there for me even if I’m not the nicest friend at times.

Seeing my top three favorite bands in only three months.

And that all those bands have recently released new music.

Opening up my mail box and seeing my first college acceptance.

Getting a $20,000 annual scholarship for that accepted school.

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Seeing my dog when I drive back home today, knowing that he’ll be wagging his tail and running towards me when I arrive.

Still being really close friends with the girls from my old school.

That my back fracture doesn’t affect me from riding.

In two months, I’ll be eighteen years old.

The stars that put me to sleep and the sun that wakes me up.

For broadway musicals, that it’s almost been one year since I’ve seen Hamilton.

For living so close to Disneyland and living on the beach.

For getting to learn something new every day.

For becoming a better version of myself every day.

For finally accepting myself for every physical quirk, every mental flaw and knowing that my days where I’m at rock bottom last temporarily. That when those days end, there are still so many things I can be thankful for.

To My Best Friend, Some Things I Will Never Tell You.

faithfulomnivoreLeave a comment

If you’ve ever wondered how it feels to see a person become someone else, it’s sort of like trying to hold water in your hands. You can keep your hands cupped together for a little while, but more and more of it begins to trickle through your fingers. You panic, try to hold back as much as you can, but, eventually, there’s so little left in your palms that you just let the rest fall to the floor.

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That’s how it felt with you. It was like I was watching everything in slow motion. I tried to catch you, but now I know that you didn’t want me to.

I didn’t believe you when you told me you were leaving. I think in the back of my mind, I had been expecting it.

You’ve been my best friend, one of the most important people in my life, for as long as I can remember. But, now, I can’t remember the last time I saw you.

It still hurts. I’m still mad and I still don’t fully understand why you chose to go. You told me you needed to do it for yourself, that you needed to be selfish.

But I never thought you were being selfish. I just thought you were wrong.

You mean so, so much to me. I miss you more than you know.

I wish I could still see you everyday. I wish you were still the one who I went to before anyone else, the person I told everything to. But you’re not anymore. I know it could still be that way if we tried, but most days I just don’t feel like trying.

I think the reason I’m still mad is because it felt like you chose them over me. It still feels that way.

It hurts to see someone change, to see them become someone different.

But what hurts more is to leave them behind, to accept that your time together has come and gone. I’m not ready to do that yet.

 

 

An Ode to My Adolescence

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photo credit: pinterest.com

An ode to my adolescence.

An ode to self-discovery. To the once-in-a-lifetime opportunities that I hope to experience over and over again.

To the sunsets and the waves.

To driving with the windows down, blasting music and singing along.

To the late nights. To the stars.

To always being tired.

To the pile of work that seems to grow bigger and bigger no matter how fast I dig through it.

To the boy who doesn’t call anymore.

To my constant need to impress people, to earn their approval.

To not caring at all, then caring too much.

To my hopes and dreams, which are always changing, but always becoming more exciting.

To my fears. To making mistakes.

To being sixteen years old, an age that I’ve been waiting to be for a very long time.

To my best friends, who make every day worth while, and who are some of the greatest teachers I’ve ever had. I couldn’t imagine better people to spend this time with.

To living in the moment.

People tell us these are the best days of our lives. They pass too quickly.

 

 

 

The Middle Layer

localdreamerwithapenLeave a comment

I have never been the smart one in a group. In my close friend group, I definitely am not. Out of my siblings, my sister has always had better grades than me. In most of my classes, I tend to be just about average.

I’m not saying that I am stupid, because I know that’s not true. But, I usually feel like I am, as I said, just average.

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I haven’t ever really had an issue with that in the past. I’m fine not being the best, the smartest, because that always gives me a reason to improve. I think it might even be good for me to control my competitiveness.

But, this is my senior year. This is the time for me to apply to the colleges I am dying to go to. This is the time for me to show them that I deserve to get that acceptance letter and hit that enroll button on May 1st. But, how do I deserve that, when I am just average?

My grades are okay. My SAT is less than I would like it to be. My essays are a little whack. Will that be enough? Will the college readers recognize some unique spark in my application or will they, with no second thoughts, throw me on the mediocre applicants pile?

I know that instead of complaining about all this, I should probably work on my college essays, study for the next SAT, and maybe start that assignment that’s due tomorrow. Even if I do, well, I will probably still be average.

Man’s Best Friend

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My life started with Jeannie. She was a yellow lab and she was the sweetest thing. She’d let me sleep in her bed; dress her up; and race her through our garden, without ever questioning me. I was the tiny human she was protecting.

I don’t know how often I’ve heard the story of me sleeping in my crib in the garden when I was a baby and a delivery guy walked in, apparently too close in Jeannie’s opinion. She got protective over me and bit him in the butt, chasing him straight out the door. What a good girl.

Two weeks before her seventeenth birthday, she had a stroke. I remember that morning so clearly. It was a Saturday, blue skies already so early in the morning, which is rare. I saw Jeannie lying outside in our garden, my parents sitting in the grass next to her. They looked so sad, so upset. They told me she had a stroke, but eight year old me didn’t know what that meant. I told her it was all okay, that she’d get better. I promised her. But, my dad had already called the vet to put her down.

Later that day, we went to my grandparents’ house to burry her next to Lea, another yellow lab who had died years earlier. I remember the last time I saw her, my dad told us to say goodbye. She looked so tired and ready to go to dog heaven.

My parents said they wouldn’t want to get another dog for another five years, but  a few months later, we got Pepper.

When we visited Pepper and his brothers for the first time, I’d never seen a dog get so competitive over food. He was just a little, black dumpling with fur, so clumsy and already so, so sweet.

I can’t believe it’s been seven years since we got him. We taught him everything you would expect children to teach a dog: we taught him to jump, hop on tree trunks, roll over, play dead, balance food on his nose, shake, sit on chais, and probably so much more that I just can’t think of.

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One thing you must know about Pepper, that I’ve just mentioned, is that he would do anything for food. But, also, that he would eat anything in this world. When he was four months old, he ate my sock straight from my foot. A year later, he ate my toy horse, some tape, and another sock. He ate an entire mango, including the pit, and a whole loaf of bread, making him so sick that we had to bring him to the vet. One time, he wanted to eat the raspberries in our garden, but,, instead swallowed an entire branch of the bush, which obviously got stuck in his throat and had to be surgically removed. He still has a scar from it, that idiot.

When I left to go to boarding school, the thing I missed the most was him. I begged and begged my parents to bring him with us to California and they did. Right now, he’s 10,000 kilometers away from home. He loves the beach, the American food, the attention he gets for his shiny coat, and his smile. What a dog.

I don’t know how many more dogs I will have throughout my life, but I sure hope it’s a lot. I can’t imagine myself without a dog and I hope I’ll never have to. They certainly deserve to be called man’s best friend.

Forgetful

faithfulomnivoreLeave a comment

I like to talk to you when life gets overwhelming. You help me forget about everything else for a while.

I know you don’t try to be, but you’re selfish sometimes. I like that, though.

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You talk about yourself most of the time, but that’s sort of what makes you so easy to talk to. I don’t have to worry about what to say because you don’t ask me about myself very much.

I’m always so wrapped up in everything going on with my own life. Problems with family, school, friends – there’s always some different worry bouncing around my head.

When I’m with you, they all slow down for a while. Sometimes, if I’m lucky, they disappear completely. It’s nice to get a break from myself.

I don’t think about anything else when we’re together. You’re so, so distracting, but always such a welcome distraction.

It’s sort of worrying, the way I forget about myself when I’m with you.

But like I said, sometimes I like to forget.

Hindsight 20/20

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My parents tell me that I broke your heart… but I deny it.

Sometimes, I think about how we used to be. I remember that one night when I texted you asking if you knew any good places to get my guitar fixed. We hadn’t really ever talked that much before this so I was shocked by your answer. “I can fix it for you, what’s your address,” you replied. You drove half an hour to my house to come pick up my guitar. You didn’t just pick up my guitar; you played my piano, talked to me, made me laugh, and told me I had a beautiful voice and you would love to play music with me.

From that night we became closer. I remember how excited I got when you would text me, how nervous I was when you would come over, and how happy I would be when we played music together.

Weeks went by and, even though you lived half an hour away, we’d hang out almost every night after swim practice. I remember my best friend saying how perfect you were for me. At that moment, I agreed. You were an amazing guitarist who was looking for a singer in your band. You were funny and entertaining. You were an amazing swimmer. And, you actually paid attention to me, something I had never really experienced from a guy.

One night, I heard a knock on my door. There you were with a guitar case, my guitar case. I opened it to find my guitar clean, polished, and fixed. I thought you were just going to replace the string that I had snapped. I was shocked. I offered you money, but you wouldn’t take it.

That night, you kissed me. I had kissed people before in dares, spin the bottle, or other stupid party games, but this was my first real kiss. My heart beat a million times a minute, my cheeks were probably bright red, and I remember thinking how perfect that moment was. It’s crazy how much things have changed since then.

I remember how you would surprise me with flowers; how we would sneak into your guest house when your parents were home, so we wouldn’t get caught; the guitar lessons you gave me; and the food you would buy me. I met your whole family. We did a triathlon together. You finished way before me, but as soon as you crossed the finish line, you ran back to do the final stretch with me. When I ran my marathon, you woke up at five am to drive to the starting line and cheer for me and you were their when I crossed the finish line. Then, there was the time you told me you loved me, I said it too.

It seems like everything happened so fast. I had so many firsts with you. I had so many good memories with you. Before this, guys always ignored me, wanted nothing to do with me, and would never want to be part of any relationship with me.  I never thought I would be the one hurting you.

I was happy in the beginning, for the first couple months, but as time went on, something changed. You didn’t change though, you continued to so many nice things for me and be the amazing person you are. You wrote me a song, comforted me when I was down, wrote me letters when I went to sleep away camp, went on hikes with me, and told me I was beautiful. You didn’t change at all, but my feelings did.

I started acting weird. I became a bit distant. I don’t know why I stopped feeling the same for you, it just happened. The day I told my parents I wanted to break up with you they said not to. “He’s so perfect, stick with him,” they said. My mom would get mad when ever I asked her how I could break up with you.

I tried to feel the same way about you again, I really did, but I just couldn’t. The day I broke up with you, you cried. You said you were okay and that it wouldn’t change our friendship, but we both knew that was a lie.

I cried too. I felt like such an awful person. My mom would tell me I deserved to feel that way, because of what I did to you. My best friend would say it too.

It’s been over half a year since we dated, yet its almost like whenever you look at me, you seem sad.  We’re in the same friend group, so I see you sometimes when I’m with my friends. A couple weeks ago, I asked you what was wrong. “Whenever I see you, I just get sad. I get so jealous when I see you with other guys. I still love you,” you said.

Now, we barley talk. It’s awkward when people say your name.

Sometimes I think about how we used to be. My parents tell me that I broke your heart… I don’t deny it.

 

Heartbroken

maydaygaskarthLeave a comment

A couple days ago, my friend said to someone that it triggered her seeing couples affectionate in public, because it reminded her of how her ex wasn’t around anymore.

I added onto the conversation by saying that’s how I felt the past three years, not the missing an ex, but about being affected by seeing couples in public.

She responded by saying it wasn’t the same and I understood it wasn’t the same; that I haven’t experienced letting go of someone you’ve loved for so long.

But, being alone the whole time sucks just as much and I wish she understood that, because she pushed my feeling aside as if it didn’t matter how I have been feeling for most of my high school years.

The last three years, I watched my best friends fall in love and have boyfriends who loved them just as much and I was all alone. My subconscious constantly reminded me that they would always choose their boyfriends first, that they would always love them more. I don’t really blame them, though. If I had someone like that and a relationship like that in my life, I’d probably feel the same way, act the same way, and be the same way. It still hurts being the fifth wheel, instead of simply being a friend. It still hurts knowing no one would feel that way about me. I knew they were happy, though, and I supported their happiness. But, all I wanted was that they knew the slightest bit how it felt for me.

I’m always the one to say I don’t care about relationships. I say that I’m not clingy enough to be a girlfriend or that I’m too focused on friendships, academics, and equestrian to even think about being in one. In reality, that was a big, fat lie. I guess it’s not the relationship itself I craved, but wishing to be someone’s treasure or world, to have someone love me as much as I love them, even for a short period of time. I hope they’re thankful for it forever, even if it wasn’t permanent, because it’s something I’ve never experienced yet.

And something I’m scared I never will.

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Emo Nite Day

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Maybe it hasn’t been my year, but it has definitely been my weekend, because, on Saturday, I got to see my favorite band for the fifth time.

This time was the first time I’ve ever been to Emo Nite Day. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to happen, but the experience was way better than I ever could’ve imagined.

First of all, I never thought I’d be in a room full of hundreds of people jamming out to iconic emo songs, like I Write Sins Not Tragedies and Welcome to the Black Parade. The crowd during those DJ sets was just as exciting and wild as when the bands came on. It was an incredible feeling to scream all the lyrics with people who were screaming along with me and weren’t judging if my voice was horrible or not (sorry to the people near me because my voice was, in fact, horrible and really, really loud).

Saturday was the first time I ever got to see 30H!3 live. I only became a big fan recently, but their songs were still a big part of my childhood and I went crazy when they went on stage.

Then, I saw Mayday Parade. The last time I saw them was in seventh grade, but my friend and I continuously joked about how they never came to So-Cal. The times they did decide to come on their tours were weekdays or vacations when we were both out of town. Mayday Parade was one of my favorite bands during middle school, but I lost hope of seeing them live again.

But, I screamed when I heard they would be playing at Emo Nite Day alongside All Time Low and my middle school dreams were coming true. I was finally seeing Mayday Parade again and I got to hear Jersey, my favorite song by them, for a second time.

At the end of the night, after standing for six hours for the moment I’ve been waiting for since I bought tickets in August, All Time Low came on stage. The set was only an hour long, but they played all my favorite songs including Stella. Saturday night was the first time I ever heard that song live and I have the video to prove it, though my voice was louder than the singer’s voice in the microphone. Besides that, I finally checked off sitting on someone’s shoulders at a concert (Shoutout to my friend for keeping me on her shoulders for that long. Sorry I killed your neck, oops).

I know it’s biased because they’re my favorite band, but All Time Low performs the best concerts ever. During one of their songs, they released giant glow-in-the-dark beach balls into the crowd. There were always crowd surfers and people kept head-banging, singing, and jumping up and down during the choruses. Then, during Dear Maria, Count Me In, Luke from 5SOS came on stage and, while I’m not the biggest fan now, they were my favorite band alongside All Time Low in middle school. My former emo self was having the time of her life. They have the most unproblematic fan base, zero drama involving the band, and their concerts possess an energy that is always positive and happy.

I’m thankful for that night. For being able to head into LA for the night and let go of all the stress and drama of senior year and hold on to only good vibes from the evening. I know Emo Nite Day is only once a year, but I can’t wait to go again in the future.

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