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Hey internet.

Since my last update entry, things have been fine. Last weekend, I went with Jazz, Best Friend Rose, and Kassie to see Megamind (so funny, I swear.) and then we went to Panera afterward. For some reason, though, that weekend had been pretty moody for me, which is what resulted in the Letter to Ricky Bobby entry.

Something else that resulted in the last entry was really stupid, now that I think about it, but I guess considering my fragile attempts at getting over RB lately, it just pushed me over the edge.

Let me start at the beginning. One day, maybe about two weeks ago, I logged onto Facebook. I look at my News Feed, reading everyone's status updates, including numerous ones with those stupid annoying sideways smiley faces that look like this (: because apparently, those are cooler than the ones that look like this :).

Then, I happened upon a picture upload from Johnny, and the album name of the picture said, specifically, "just for ricky bobby to sarah".
So, understandably, this catches my attention, right? So I click on it. And it turns out that the picture is a super zoomed-in picture of the snow on the mountains. Curious, considering my last status update before then had been about snow.

But, it was just a coincidence, right? I mean, I didn't see why Ricky Bobby would send me a picture, none the less through Johnny's facebook, instead of his own, and none the less a random picture of snow on the mountains.

But, it totally bothered me that I didn't know what it was really about. It bothered Rosie too, and we spent some time speculating about it. I even put an innocent comment on it, one that just said, "?".
Then, the night of the last entry, I finally found out.

Rose casually asked Johnny about it, and he said something about RB's friend (also named Sarah) from Pennsylvania wanting to see our mountains, and uploading it on Facebook because she didn't have picture mail on her phone.

And that was what pushed me off the edge.
I felt SO stupid. And it really wasn't a big deal, and Rosie told me that it was completely reasonable for me to think that it was about me, considering that I'm the only close friend named Sarah that Johnny has.
But I was humiliated. I went and immediately deleted my comment, hoping that RB hadn't seen it. Considering my past feelings for him, and him knowing it, I'm always paranoid that he still knows. Knows how much energy and tears I wasted on him after he left.

Rationally, I know that there's no way he could know. He's no mind reader. But, like when we went to Noodles & Co. and he kept staring at me across the table, I kept getting this spine-chilling feeling that he knew. Sometimes it felt like he saw through me.

So, this paranoia decided to rear its ugly head then, and I went on to rant to Best Friend Rose about why did it have to be him and when was I going to get over this and yadda yadda. And then I came on here to rant some more, thus the birth of the last entry. And then I went to have a good cry.

And then after all that, I felt perfectly fine. I felt fantastic, actually.
I just had to get all of it out, and after I did, it was like a weight off of my shoulders. I hope I didn't worry any of you with the last entry. Believe me, I'm fine now. But I gotta say, I think that entry broke the record on the highest level of emo-ness.

So now, I'm getting back on the path of where I was before, moving forward with my life. And I'm good with it.

Buuuuuut, I do have new non-Ricky Bobby news. And this time, it's about...drum roll, please...Phil.

Dun dun dun.

I might have to make a new tag for him, because gosh darn, this guy just doesn't go away. You'd think it would have ended with the whole I'll-tell-you-I-love-you-and-then-take-it-back-immediately-after-I-say-it-causing-you-to-hate-me-and-ignore-all-my-text-messages-for-forever-afterward, but apparently, dude can't take a hint.

Mind you, that whole deal went down exactly a year ago tomorrow. Last Thanksgiving. And to think that this is all happening an entire year later.

First, let me say this: the last time I talked to Phil was September. He sent me a private message on Facebook (the place starting to become the source of all my problems), and we proceeded to have a--quite literally--six line conversation, which took over the course of 3 days. It went a little something like this.

Phil: Hey havent talked to you in ever whats up?
Me: Haha yeah I know. Not much, what's up with you? (*because there are only so many ways you can respond to 'what's up', and the majority are not what people are willing to listen to. I loathe that phrase.)
Phil: Just school and crap haha u should text me sometime at (enter cell number here)
Me: Haha alright then. (*which is not a yes, obviously. Yeah, I'm gonna text you because you directly told me to. Way to lay on the moves there, pal.)
Phil: Haha cool I am going to (enter college name here) football game tomorrow!!! I can't wait (*and he told me this because I'm obviously a huge college football fan, right? I mean, I just reek of team spirit. Paint my face with the team colors, put me in a jersey, and watch out, because I'll be the loudest person in the stadium. Obviously.)
Me: Oh, that's cool. Have fun! (*otherwise translated as, 'Dude, I really don't give a crap.')

And that was all. Literally, that was the last time we talked, and what we talked about the last time we talked. The same old Phil-going-on-and-on-about-sports-or-cars-or-his money-and-me-straining-to-keep-myself-from-bashing-my-head-in kind of conversation that we always used to have. He really hasn't changed. At all.

Now for the really fun news about Phil.
Yesterday, I log onto Facebook. Again. And this time, it isn't an update from Johnny I see on my homepage. This time, it's Phil's newest status update that I see. It says, word-for-word, 'I'm in love with someone'.

Not a big deal yet, right?
But then, I read the comments. They all go a little something like this, "Hmm. Let me guess. Sarah?" or "Does it start with an S...then an A...then R..."

Oh, hell.
I know I shouldn't immediately assume it's me, but just...come on. Considering how he stalks my life, and apparently he thinks that if someone says they like you freshman year of High School, they wanna get married and have lots of babies and TRU LUV 4EVAH.

But, God. Let's all hope not. Let's all hope that, by some miracle, it's some other Sarah (because, hey. Sarah may as well be the female version of Ricky Bobby. Sarahs left and right.) I suppose we'll see, shall we?

xo Hopeless Romantic

(ps. Happy Thanksgiving!)

Labels: junior year, phil, ricky bobby

Dear Ricky Bobby,

Hello. Remember me? I'm the chick who's friends with Johnny. You know, the girl who liked you in eighth grade.

The girl you never gave a chance. The girl you'd completely ignore on some occasion, and then worse, on other occasions, talk to and then go and flirt with another girl right in front of her. The girl you'd never even try to get to know. The girl who'd never get a second glance from you. The girl who you'd catch staring at you in eighth grade History class, and you'd give her this smug look, as if to say, 'Just watch. You'll never get over me. Grovel, bitch.'

I don't think you realize just how much I liked you. Just seeing you across the hallway was enough to fry my nerves. It would take an entire class just to summon up the courage to talk to you, and some times, I still couldn't do it. I could hardly look you in the face, it was almost too much for me to bear.
Hell, I didn't like you. I was in love with you.

Unrequited, yes, but none the less, that was it. It happened so fast, and I was so young, but people say that when you love someone, you just know. And I knew.

I loved everything about you. The way you'd suddenly say something so profound, and it would catch me off guard. The sarcastic, thoughtful way you'd respond to some thing someone said, and I'd wonder how someone could be so interesting. The way you could wear a big red Elmo shirt, and not be embarrassed or even abashed. The way you'd sway from foot to foot when you were nervous. Everything.

You were close friends with Best Friend Rose, and I was pretty good friends with Johnny then, but I still felt a million miles away from you.

I was just this awkward, shy, plain girl who you barely knew, a girl with absolute zero chance of ever being a beautiful, tall blond cheerleader like Sissy, who you dated, by the way. (I know you said recently that you didn't go for her type anymore, but that's not really the point. The point is, you dated her, period.)

And when you found out I liked you, nothing changed. I tried my hardest to get to you, without trying to seem desperate, and it was without avail. I was just another admirer to you, and nothing more, even though I opened up to you and made myself completely vulnerable.
And on the day of eighth grade graduation, I suppose you were humoring me. Am I right? The super long hugs, the lingering looks, the smiles. 'Oh, hell, why not? I'm moving away from this place tomorrow, anyway. I'll just humor the poor thing. After all, she did give me a t-shirt.'

Fast forward two and a half years later, and I'm pretty much at the same place.
I thought I'd come far, but wow, was I kidding myself, or what? For two years I've tried and tried again to stop thinking about you, to stop wondering about you, to stop thinking about what could have been, but never was. But I can't.

You're like a mouse trap. You're like nicotine. You're like poison. You're so bad for me, and yet I keep getting lured in. I keep coming back, like a fatal addiction.
Why?

And meanwhile, you have no idea. You have no idea about how much you've ruined me. You go about your life, free as a bird, never being weighed down by your past walking in front of you on two legs.
You experience life free of heartbreak, going from willing girl to willing girl, while I sit aside and watch and die a little more inside.

I've gotten better than before, I'll admit that. I'm coming a little closer to letting you go. But I keep letting myself hope, hope that something could still happen, hope that one day you'll look at me and go, 'Wow. What have I been thinking? It's you. It's always been you.'

But you won't. I know you won't, because my hopes get crushed every time.

Despite all of this, however, I do have one thing to thank you for.
Thank you for being reasonably nice to me. Even though I was way too into you, and you obviously weren't into me, you didn't curse me out or call me names or treat me horribly, like most guys probably would have. There were some days that you blew me off, or pretended like I wasn't there, but at least you weren't cruel about it. So thanks, I guess.

And even though things have been slightly different lately, what with you and me talking and hanging out at two football games, and almost going to have coffee, I know that it all still means nothing to you. I'm just a friend, if that(as of right now, I don't think so), and that's all I'll ever be.

I'm starting to be okay with that now, and I'm not as sad about it anymore. I just hate how much time I've wasted on you.
Most people don't spend this much energy on something unrequited, and heck, some don't even spend this energy over broken requited love. I know that it isn't typical, and it probably isn't normal, either.

Maybe it's because I feel like you were the one person that I felt like I could've really connected with, and now that I know can't/won't ever have you, there'll be no one else that can even come as close as you did.

So.
I know you'll never read this, but if by some off chance that you do, and you know that it's about you and you know who I am, at least now you know.

Despite all I've said about you, I do want you to be happy. I care about your happiness. Please don't ever settle. You may have some issues to work out, hell who doesn't, but you're really something, you know that? You deserve someone who's good to you and loves you and you love back with every inch of your heart. Be happy.

Signed,

Sarah, the girl who loved you, and the girl who's in a long standing, painful journey to get over you.
(xo Hopeless Romantic)

Labels: life, ricky bobby, secrets

Hola, Internet.

Since the last time I wrote you, nothing in terms of romance (for lack of a better word) has happened. BUUUT, there was last weekend, which sucked bad.

Why did it suck bad? Well, I'll tell you.

The first part was great. I went with Best Friend Rose and her oldest sister Ashley to the nearest city to their fantastically huge mall. I actually had money to spend (which rarely happens for trips to the mall), and BFR had just gotten compensated for her good grades for 1st quarter (all A's and B's, a first for her!), and she had $250 to spend (maybe over-compensated would've been the better word).

We all went to Forever 21 (my new favorite store, officially), and I got a new knit hat, which lately, I haven't been able to stop buying, knit leggings, a big snuggly sweater with a dog on it, and a cute headband. BFR got 26028453 different things and I don't even remember half of them. Pfft. Rich people and their rewards for good grades. (But really, I just tease her about it to hide my jealousy. So. Many. Cute tops.)

Then, after that is when the evening turned awry. We went down to the food court to get some eatings, and while we were walking to the Panda Express at the end of the food court, there was this guy from another restaurant trying to get people to take free samples of chicken. I love free samples, and I felt kinda bad for the guy, because everyone was walking past him, so I went and took one. I said thank you, and he said, "YOU'RE WELCOME SWEETHEART." (I used caps because he kind of shouted it, even though the food court wasn't that loud, and I was right in front of him. Still not sure why he was shouting...)

I stood in line with BFR while she got her orange chicken, and after she got her food and sat down, I decided I just wanted a smoothie from Orange Julius. So, I went over, and after having an unnecessary discussion with the girl at the counter about whether Fiber and Protein taste the same in smoothies, I got my smoothie, paid, and went to sit down with Rosie.

Soon after that, it was around 9, so we all decided to leave. On the hour long drive home, I started to notice that whenever I drank more of my smoothie, my stomach started to feel weird. I couldn't explain the feeling. It wasn't nauseous, or a stomach ache, just...weird.

Turns out, after Ashley dropped me and Rosie off at Rosie's house, fifteen minutes later, I was puking in Rosie's bathroom. I was going to sleep over at her house, but Best Friend Rose insisted that I go home, and she and her mom were pretty worried about me.

So, my dad came to pick me up, and on the way home, I start having chills. After about ten minutes of being home, I throw up again. We live right by a Walgreens, and my dad went to go get me ginger ale, but by now it was 11, and it was closed, so he had to get a 7-UP from a corner store.

My mom knew just by me telling her what I ate and by my symptoms that I had food poisoning. She gave me Pepto Bismol, but I ended up throwing it up anyway.
That night was hell.
The whole time, I was either puking, sitting up and staring at the TV, or trying to fall asleep on my bedroom floor with a pillow because for some reason, sleeping on my bed felt like trying to sleep on a cold boulder.

I couldn't fall asleep until 6 am, and then when I tried to get up to my parent's room to tell Mom about how I felt like I was dying, I had to run to my bathroom to puke again. I spent that whole day practically a vegetable; in between sleep and sipping on water, and cringing every time a fast food commercial came on.

(Sorry in advance to any guys that might read this part.)
I started to get better on Sunday, but then my monthly time decided to come as well, and I was back to feeling awful again. (My cramps practically debilitate me every month, they're terrible. I've been thinking about getting on a low-dose birth control just to get away from them.)

(Okay guys, you're safe now.)

So after my weekend in hell, I thought it would make school even harder, considering I was still so weak that I couldn't even get out of bed. But, surprisingly, so far this school week I've done better than I have for the past month, so I guess being a vegetable gave me more motivation...?

Anyway, lesson here: I beg you guys. PLEASE be careful about free samples. You never know how long that food's been out, or how it was handled. I'd never gotten food poisoning before, and I wouldn't wish that crap on my worst enemy (even though I don't have any. Maybe. Hopefully.).

I used to love free samples from places, but I think it'll be a long time before I have any again. And I'm never eating in that food court again (although I won't count Orange Julius, because HELLO, it's Orange Julius.)

I'm much better now, and I'm eating normal food again, but damn. Worst weekend ever.

And as far as the getting-over-Ricky-Bobby thing is going, it's good so far. I think it's actually working this time.
Maybe it's because before, there was always the 'what could have been' thought in the back of my mind whenever I tried to get over him before he moved back. 'What if he hadn't moved?' 'What if he comes back and he remembers I like him?' 'Did he ever like me back?'

But now that he's back, and I have spent time with him and saw who he is, and saw how he was nice to me, and how he has changed as a person a little bit, I can see the truth clearer. He never was interested in me, and he still isn't. And that's just how it is.

So now, there's no regrets, no what ifs, no more questions holding me back. And now that I know the absolute truth, it's easier to let go.

It's still a little hard, but I'm doing it. Like I said before, day by day.

xo Hopeless Romantic

(Picture by meppol from deviantART.)

Labels: crap, junior year, ricky bobby

Hey Internet.

Well, as it turns out, there was one last football game the day after I wrote my last entry. Jazz told me, and we went together. I spent the usual fantastic amount of time I take to get ready for football games, and I even bothered to use the flat iron on my hair (gasp!), which I hadn't last done since August (I'm a hair care freak now. Buuut, it's paying off, my hair reaches the end of my bra straps in the back now! The longest it's ever been!).

I even left the house late again, though not as late as a few football games ago. But, in the end, it was kind of pointless, because Ricky Bobby and Johnny weren't even there.

The whole time, I hung out with Jazz and Colbie, and this nice girl named Kassie, who was nice enough to lend me her mittens, because I was an idiot and didn't wear a coat or gloves, even though it was -39148275 degrees outside. We had fun, and we talked and walked around and found this cute little park with swings and a merry-go-round behind the football field.

One time during the game, though, I texted Johnny just to make sure he wasn't there/coming there. He called me and told me that he was on the freeway, and he could swing by and and come and say hi. Sweet, right?

I didn't know if Ricky Bobby was there with him or not, but I didn't ask. But when I went out to the parking lot to see Johnny, I found out that no, Ricky Bobby was not there. However, Johnny did have another friend with him. Let's call him Lenny. He seemed pretty nice, and he shook my hand twice, one after introducing himself and one when him and Johnny had to leave. Nice kid.

They were leaving to go back to Johnny's house, and I told them not to party too hard, and then they left.
Not going to lie, I totally hoped Johnny would mention something about Ricky Bobby not being there, since RB and Johnny are together all the time. But hey, I wasn't going to ask. Don't need people thinking things. I'm still trying to move on.

I'm starting to realize that I have a major problem with Ricky Bobbys. Not just THE Ricky Bobby, but Ricky Bobbys in general.

Remember a few entries ago when I said that Ricky Bobby's real name was one of the most common boys names, ever? Well. I've had a few Ricky Bobby issues in my life thus far.
Preschool, there was a Ricky Bobby in my class, and he always chased me around the playground trying to kiss me. I didn't like boys much then, so it creeped me out. Foolish four year old Sarah.
Pre-K, there was another boy named Ricky Bobby in my class, and he had hair like John Smith in Pocahontas, and I had a big crush on him. (Now, he's a total creeper. He's the creeper loner kid with Star Wars action figures you see sitting in a corner by himself in the lunch room, mumbling to himself in various foreign accents.)

5th grade through 7th grade, I had this MONUMENTAL crush on another Ricky Bobby. He was tall and lanky and blonde, and he always smelled good. In sixth grade, we emailed back and forth everyday and talked on MSN, but only as friends. He had no idea I liked him, but I was happy with just being his friend. In the 7th grade, he even invited me to his birthday party with tons of boys and just two other girls, one being Jessica Simpson, who he liked.

The same school year, that Valentine's Day, he asked me to be his Valentine and gave me a teddy bear, but only because Jessica Simpson was dating someone at the time, and I was pretty much a last resort (romantic, right?). Also, unbeknown to me when he asked, he had already asked Best Friend Rose to be his Valentine, causing me and her to get into this huge fight over him, and we didn't talk for TWO WHOLE MONTHS. (The dumbest thing to fight over, but it was our biggest fight ever. Since then, we've sworn that a guy will never get between us again.)

Then came 8th grade and THE Ricky Bobby. Then, after THE Ricky Bobby moved away, and I got depressed and went kind of insane and gave myself an extreme makeover and lost weight and got extensions and bangs(at least I didn't pull a Britney Spears, right?), I met this other Ricky Bobby through Rosie's sister Lauren. He was partially blind, but sarcastic and charismatic, and he asked for my number. He then proceeded to text me 20 times a day, and ask me out over text at least 3 times. (I can't believe I never talked about this on here.)

I'd never had a guy come on to me that strong before(...or at all...), so it kind of freaked me out a little. I stopped answering his texts, but I felt really guilty, because of the whole partially blind thing. But at the same time, I didn't want to take pity on him just because of his disability. If we weren't compatible, we weren't compatible, blind or not. (Still feel guilty, though.)

So. The conclusion I've come to is this: The next Ricky Bobby I meet, I'm running for the hills.

I think I'm cursed to have problems with every Ricky Bobby that has come my way. I think I'm destined to have problems with every Ricky Bobby, for ALL OF ETERNITY.
No, really, though. I need to break the cycle.

Meanwhile, even though I didn't start liking THE Ricky Bobby again (though maybe a little bit, because if I didn't like him at least a smidge, I wouldn't be this bummed about it), I'm finding it a bit difficult to move on. Understandable I guess, because 2 years of liking someone isn't that easy to get rid of.
Plus, he was the last guy I really liked, and since I haven't seen/found anyone else yet with the potential for another crush.
But I'm doing my best, and I've made some progress. One day at a time.

I think I'll talk about my friends and studies for a while, just to keep my mind off of things. I'll try my best this time, Internet. I promise.

xo Hopeless Romantic

Labels: junior year, past stuff, ricky bobby

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