Stop and stare.

People don't always know how to tell someone how they feel. For some reason, it's hard. Probably because of rejection. We hide our true feelings because we don't want others to make fun of us or make us feel stupid. We don't want to be hurt. But sometimes, it needs to be said. Sometimes, the other person needs to hear it. I need to hear it. I need to know how he feels. I need to know what he's thinking and what he wants. All of a sudden, I'm relying on him and waiting for him to say something. That's not usually how I do. I'm usually the first to say something about anything. I like to get it out in the open, to be dealt with. But not this time. This time I'm waiting and it's hard.

I always go back to that one person at times like this, when I'm confused. I don't know why. It doesn't make sense to me because of all the bullshit that it really is. Because I know he's forgotten me. Forgotten, but not forgiven. So why should I remember him? I shouldn't. And it hurts. And I don't need it.

Dismantle me down.

Everyone in the world is scared. Every second of every life is full of fear. Most of the time, we unknowingly block it out with other feelings that are more prominent at the time because of the situation. But the fear is always there, inside of us. When we don't face that fear, it just builds and grows until it destroys. It can destroy by killing or just by being too much to handle, leading to what is known as depression. But what happens when we face our fears? When we are courageous enough to stand up and fight? Courage is not the act of facing fear just to say it can be done. Courage is facing fear because there is no other way. One is still afraid while being courageous. Yet, one pushes forward despite that fear of facing fear. Being afraid is natural and human. It's one of the many things that bind us all together and make us the same. Love is another. Yet we are all afraid of loving. It's like a two-in-one. We all want to love and to be loved. But we are afraid to give our love to another because of rejection and because of the pain that can be caused. Yet in the end, it is worth it. Facing the fear of loving another can have so many rewards. First, there will be pain and heartache and tears. But it's been said that "tears mean you cared about something. Even tears of loss mean that you know what it is to win," and "you don't weep unless you've been happy first; tears always mean something enviable." But I don't want to talk about tears. No matter how many times one feels the pain of loss and heartache, it is possible to stand again and try once more until it feels right. And it's best to stand again. We grow stronger by getting up and trying again. We grow stronger by facing our fears. We grow stronger by being courageous. We grow stronger by loving. Love keeps us alive. The hope of love, actually. The hope that someone will care so deeply that nothing can shake it. The hope that someone sees us as perfect, even when the word sees us as flawed. The hope that we won't be alone in the end. The hope that love can heal. It's what keeps us going. It's what helps us to be courageous and to face whatever the world throws in our faces. Fear, love, hope.

Fear is an emotional response to tangible and realistic dangers.
Most fear is usually connected to pain.
"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear."
"Fear is essential for courage."

Love can describe an intense feeling of affection, an emotion or an emotional state.
Studies have shown that mental scans of those in love show a striking resemblance to those with a mental illness.
"Loving each other is half of wisdom."
"True love doesn't come to you; it lives inside of you."

Hope is a belief in a positive outcome related to events and circumstances in one's life.
Hope is a confidence in something desired.
"There is no worse death than the loss of hope."
"Beware how you take away hope from another human being."

Why is it that we love those we hate? The more we hate them, the more we love them as well. The more they hurt us, the more we love them. The more tears we shed over them, the more we love them. The more they don't love us, the more we love them.

So sick.

I'm so sick of not knowing what he's thinking.
I'm sick of him not telling me how he feels.
I'm sick of fighting about the dumbest little things.
I'm so sick of not knowing what to do.

It's kind of ridiculous. When he tells me all these things about how he wants to be with me and see me every day [of course, he told me these things drunk . . ] and then suddenly it's like, a complete change in his attitude. I have no idea what's going on. I don't know what to say to him. I want to see him and tell him in person that he's the only one I want to be with and how much I really do like him. But when will that happen? Obviously not tonight. And tomorrow? I have no idea now! Then I'm leaving for my parents house on Monday for a few days. What if he changes his mind? What if he decides that he doesn't want to be with me anymore? I let myself fall for him way too much I guess.

Ugh I'm so sick of the rain! I want it to fucking snow already. I'm used to it snowing in September and here, it doesn't snow until maybe November. And when it does, it's for like, a day and then it melts. It's ridiculous. It's driving me crazy. Luckily, I'll be at my parents' house for Christmas so there's a much better chance that it will snow Christmas morning =] And hopefully Christmas Eve.

I owe you every day I wake.

I don't like making decisions that can hurt people, including myself.
I don't like caring about him as much as I do because it makes letting him go difficult.
I don't like wanting more than I can have.
I don't like how I can't seem to trust him, no matter how perfect he is.
I don't like how he can trust me so easily.
I don't like that he is so far away, even though he'll be here in a few days.

I love talking to him on the phone every day.
I love how I can tell when he is smiling, even though I can't see him.
I love that my life is starting to make some sense.
I love that I don't constantly think about him anymore.
I love being able to count on someone no matter what is going on.
I love my job.

It's almost Christmas time =] I love Christmas. It's so much fun. All the lights and the special decorations. Sadly, we don't have a Christmas tree in our apartment. And last year at my house, we had a fake tree. But I remember when I was younger, we would go out and cut down a real tree and put it up in the house and my mother and I would decorate it and my dad would criticize it [because that's what he does] and the whole house would smell like a forest. I wish that I still believed in Santa Claus. It's such a nice fantasy, that someone cares about all the little children and brings them all presents. But of course, that fantasy can't last forever because we all have to grow up. But that doesn't mean we can't lose the Christmas spirit. It doesn't mean that we can't give to others without expecting something back.

How do you know when you've grown up? Everyone is immature sometimes. When you're young, you're immature most of the time. So how do you know when you've lost that immaturity? Is it something you feel? Or does someone have to tell you that you've changed, you're more mature? Maybe you can just tell. Maybe it's how you act around others and how you can suddenly make the right choices, even if it's hard. Maybe it's when you realize that in the end, everything will be fine. All your choices will make sense eventually and there's not much you can do about the choices that others make. You realize all these things and you're willing to admit when you're wrong and not feel silly do so. Maybe it's when you don't feel the need to impress anyone. I think it's all of those things that I've just listed and so much more. More than I can explain because I haven't reached that point where I'm fully grown up. I'm still immature. I'm still learning. I'm still growing. And I'm ok with that.

Drunk

Ugh I hate drunken phone calls. Whenever I get them, I can't be sure if the drunk person is serious. And then the next day, they apologize and I'm afraid to ask if everything that was said the night before was for real because what if they say no?

The Magic of Macy's

So my new job is at the women's fragrance counter at Macy's. And I'm loving it. I always smell pretty =] I guess that's just a plus though. But I love the girls I work with. They're all really nice. I'm learning all these things about fragrances that I've never even heard of and that smell so amazing. Of course, there are the ones that smell not-so-nice and if a customer asks me about it, I get to lie! Because you don't wanna say, "Ew this one is gross. I don't like it." Because then they won't even want to try it. So I get to pretend that it's not that bad, even if it's really bad. Possibly my favorite thing about it is the freedom. There's no set time to go on a break or to take your lunch. As long as there is someone else there, you can go on break whenever and take your lunch whenever. Not only that, but it's really just easy. It's not stressful. One bad thing is that I'm on my feet for about eight hours a day. And when I decide to wear heals . . . ouch! But I can't help but wear my heals because then I look really nice and I just feel better when I look nice. And when I feel better I'll smile and be nice to people and actually mean it. Anyways, I just really like my new job =]

Controversy?

Ok so here's the thing : I'm not a racist person. I grew up in a very white community, with about three or four black [African-American? which is politically correct? I think it's African-American, but because "black" is easier to type, that's the one I'm gonna use] kids in my high school between my freshman and senior year. It was never a big deal, they were popular kids with awesome personalities. The fact that their skin color was darker than mine and nearly everyone else's didn't matter. So then I move here and it's still relatively white. Of course, a hell of a lot more diverse than where I'm from. And I love it. It's so cool to be driving or walking downtown and seeing different cultures. I'll see an Indian [and I mean from India, not Native American] family and the mother will be wearing that head scarf thingy that they wear in India. And no one even takes a second look at her.

So moving on to my point. One of my roommates came back from her evening educational class tonight, totally irritated. And I don't blame her. In her class they were talking about censorship in school, like banning the book Huck Finn because of the word "nigger." Well obviously it's a derogatory term, but back in that time period, it was said frequently and the book accurately portrays that. Apparently, there's one black girl in my roommate's class and she totally agrees with banning it because she finds the term offensive. She said something about "because I'm black" and right then and there I would have gone off on her. Luckily, my roommate has better control over her temper, and she waited until the girl was done talking to say anything. My roommate then went on to explain how she grew up in a Mormon household and a very non-Mormon community. Swearing does indeed offend her, but she's not asking anyone to ban books with swear words in them. If that's how it is, let's accurately portray it, right?

Ok next. [keep in mind that I'm not racist. note : hot black guys are ten times better than hot white guys. what's the opposite of racist?] I don't understand why we still insist on giving special treatment to blacks. I also don't understand why some blacks still insist on us feeling sorry for them just because their ancestors were slaves. Are they slaves themselves? No. It was their ancestors. And it was our ancestors who kept them as slaves, not us. Are we slave-holders? I don't think so. So what the hell?! And those special scholarships for blacks? I get the ones for the underprivileged who have no chance of leaving the "ghetto" without help [of course, there are whites in those situations as well], but not the ones for just any black person. Can I get a scholarship because I have blond hair and blue eyes? Seriously people. Stop trying to get people to feel sorry for you just because at one time, your ancestors weren't treated right.

Now I feel the need to move on to the whole feminist idea. About how women fought for so long to have the same rights as men and yet many still want society to help them out and feel sorry for them [us?]. But . . . I'm not going to. I think I've exceeded my typing limit for the night.

""Best Poem Ever""

I'm not really into like, feminism and shit, but I really like this "poem." It was written by Maya Angelou.

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
enough money within her control to move out and rent a place of her own, even if she never wants to or needs to.
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
something perfect to wear if the employer or date of her dreams wants to see her in an hour.
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
a youth she's content to leave behind.
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
a past juicy enough that she's looking forward to retelling it in her old age.
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
a set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black lace bra.
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
one friend who always makes her laugh and one who lets her cry.
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
a good piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in her family.
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
eight matching plates, wine glasses with stems, and a recipe for a meal that will make her guests feel honored.
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
a feeling of control over her destiny.
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
how to fall in love without losing herself.
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
how to quit a job,
break up with a lover,
and confront a friend without ruining the friendship.
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
when to try harder... and when to walk away.
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
that she can't change the length of her calves,
the width of her hips, or the nature of her parents.
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
that her childhood may not have been perfect, but it's over.
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
what she would and wouldn't do for love or more.
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
how to live alone even if she doesn't like it.
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
whom she can trust, whom she can't,
and why she shouldn't take it personally.
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
where to go, be it to her best friend's kitchen table,
or a charming inn in the woods, when her soul needs soothing.
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
what she can and can't accomplish in a day, a month, and a year.