♡ the life of a 25 year old hopeless romantic ♡





"This song is talking to the person you haven't even met yet. Maybe they're rolling around in the hay with someone else, but they're not as good as you're gonna be. You just have to wait your turn. He's out there, she's out there. They're just learning what to contrast you against."






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Well that was quick.}
Saturday, October 22, 2011 | 9:42 AM | 0Comment

Guess who just texted me?

Jazz. To tell me that she was coming over to talk today. In person.

.....Well, shit.

I'll update as soon as she leaves. Somehow, I have the feeling that this won't go well. Let's hope I'm wrong.

xo Hopeless Romantic

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Frustrations.}
Saturday, October 15, 2011 | 9:16 PM | 0Comment

Hey Internatz. Guess what I didn't go to tonight?

That's right. Homecoming.

Due to a chain of unfortunate timing and planning, I was unable to get a ticket, therefore not being able to go. (I spent a good few days pissed off at Best Friend Rose for it, but by now I've gotten over it.) Kinda disappointed, but today I got a shopping trip, pizza dinner and a family movie night to make up for it. Beats spending a night with my best friend and 200 something other people that I barely know or sorta like. And I hadn't gotten a new dress this year, anyway.

It's been an interesting few days. For one, you know that letter to Jazz from last entry? Well...here's the thing. I sent it to her.

Mind you, I only sent it after sitting down and editing it to sound generously less...angry. And accusing. Because I know that problems never get solved when both sides or one side is spewing angry accusations. But I still kept the main idea, still kept enough so that I felt like I was getting my point across.

It started off with me asking if I could be honest (hence the 'Can I be honest?'), her saying "yes?", and me telling her I've been avoiding her, because I was upset with her. And when she asked why, I told her there was so much that I didn't even know where to begin (just like in the original letter). And she said, 'How about the beginning? I seriously had no idea'.

And I sent the whole rest in a Facebook message, just to get it out there and done with, so she could know all at once.

I'm sure this overwhelmed her, but I'm just glad that she knows everything now. It feels like a huge weight had been lifted off of my shoulders, because this whole schpeal had been nagging at me for months now. I'm just glad it's out there now, it's a relief.

After a whole day after I'd sent the whole thing, I still had no reply. I admit, it was making me anxious. So I said, "...So? Do you have anything to say?" I felt like she was writing off my personal feelings as attacks and was ignoring it. Plus, Rosie told me that Jazz had actually talked to her about it, saying that 'it had come out of nowhere' and that 'she didn't even know what to say'.

Admittedly it was pretty out of nowhere, but it annoyed me that she hadn't even bothered to reply. And on top of that, Jazz told Rosie directly that 'she never talked about her behind her back' and that she 'totally loves her', therefore making me the bad guy who's apparently making shit up, which made me even more angry.

So anyhow, after I sent that, today I got a reply from her back, saying: 'nope. I need process time.'

Which I somewhat get, because it could probably be a lot to process when she thought everything was peachy keen. But I just wish she'd talk this out with me now, just so we could work it out and everything would be okay again.

I know it seems hasty of me, but I really do hate conflict. It makes this huge knot in my stomach, makes me queasy. I hate it.

And as much as I needed to tell her all of this, I just want us to be close again. I didn't want this huge confrontation, but I just want us to be comfortable again. That's all I want.

So I told her, "Okay. Just let me know when you're ready to talk."

And I hate thinking about how it might be awhile until she can talk to me. I don't want it to take awhile. But I realize that it might. And if that's what it takes to fix our friendship again, then I'm okay with that. I just want my best friend back.

In the meantime, I'll stay away from Facebook (as I've done a lot lately, contemplating deleting it, actually. Cannot stand it these days, I swear. More than half of those people in my Friends List I haven't talked to for three or more years anyway) and I'll focus on school. Especially AP, which has been whooping my ass lately (curse you, Homer! And The Odyssey in general!).

This'll be sorted out soon. I just have to give it time and patience.

xo Hopeless Romantic

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Letter to Jazz. (Secret #6.)}
Wednesday, October 12, 2011 | 3:54 PM | 2Comment

Hey Jazz, can I be honest?

Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I’ve been avoiding you. Because I’m kind of upset with you, actually.

There are so many things that have gone on the past few months that have stacked up, that I don’t even know where to begin.

Here's one. I don’t appreciate the way you talk to me. It really bothers me when you say things like, ‘let’s get you out of the house’ and ‘we need to get you out dude’. I know we used to joke about that during sophomore year, and back then it was funny, but now it’s not. Now I find it pretty patronizing, to be honest. I used to joke like that during sophomore year because it was true and I was still getting used to online school, but I’m happy now. Maybe if you talked to me more often, you’d know that it’s different now.

I’ve learned how to balance my school and everything else, and I live normally, not like some hermit you sometimes make me out to be. I’m perfectly fine with the way my life is now, and you should accept that.

I know it might not make sense to you because you’re always busy with stuff for school and hanging out with people and stuff, but that’s what makes you happy. Not me. You’ve got to understand that I’ve grown to love my life the way it is, along with my everyday school life and being inside my own skin, and when I hear you say things like that to me or about me it really offends me.

Honestly, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, and I don’t appreciate being treated like a socially retarded 12 year old. I’m happy hanging out with you, at least I used to be. But I hate it when you say things like that. I want you to want to hang out with me because you want to, not because you feel like you owe me a field trip out of the house. That makes me feel like your obligation, not your friend.

I also don’t appreciate the way you talk about Best Friend Rose around me. I really haven’t said this until now, I know, but I just need to say it. I get that you don’t like her, and even though I have no idea why you don’t, I’ll leave it at that. But don’t talk crap about her around me. Please. She’s my best friend, didn’t you realize that it would bother me? I know you think she’s this awful person, but try to understand. I’ve been best friends with her for almost 14 years now. Since preschool. And while you’re my friend too, I really can’t stand it when you talk about her to me like she’s this mustache twirling villain. I get that you don’t like her. But that’s your business. Don’t involve me in it. Plain and simple. And for the record? Best Friend Rose had no problems whatsoever with you before, and I know you find that hard to believe, but she didn't. She really liked you. And I would've known if she had felt otherwise, because she tells me everything. Now the only problem she has with you is the way you've been treating me. Just so you know.

Something else that’s been bothering me happened a long time ago, and I should’ve said something about it then, but I didn’t. Remember the day before New Year’s Eve, when you spent the night, and there was that huge blizzard? You had been invited to a New Year’s party at someone else’s house, but you were worried about driving in the storm, so I offered that you could just stay another night if you really were concerned about driving all the way across town in the snow.

We entertained the idea, so much to the point where I was under the impression that you really were going to stay for New Year’s Eve, and I was excited. I was really happy because I never really get to do fun things for New Year’s, considering my parents never stay up until midnight on New Year’s and Rosie was on a trip, just like she had the year before, so we couldn’t do anything together either. So after we started talking about the stuff we could do until midnight, maybe a half an hour passed.

And then you left.

No apology, no excuses, you just left. And pretty quickly, too. Jazz, I would have completely understood if you just wanted to leave and go to that party, which I’m sure you did. But you could have at least told me to my face. I’m a big girl. I would have understood.

Even if you had said, “Sorry, I have to go to this party, bye!” it would have been much better. But you entertained the idea of staying over, and even got excited with me. It would have been much easier to handle if you hadn’t humored me like you really wanted to stay, just to leave hurriedly a half an hour later.

Nobody’s ever done that to me before. It really hurt my feelings. I was honestly so hurt that I cried. I thought that maybe I’d get to be with one of my closest friends for New Year’s, and that I wouldn’t have to be by myself, sitting in my room, watching the ball drop on TV, but I was. I was alone on New Year's Eve, and I cried myself to sleep.

And it felt like maybe I only had one best friend, not two.

And the time I told you that I was very serious about taking writing seriously, and I even wanted to get published? You were doubtful. I could see it in your eyes that you really didn't believe that I could get published, that I was good enough to be published. And honestly? I know that. Of course I know that. But I was telling you expecting to get some support, knowing that I'll get skepticism and doubt from everyone else, but the least I was expecting was to get it from you.

You know, these days it just really feels like you don’t give two craps about me anymore. You used to let me know what was going on in your life, talk to me about stuff that was bothering you. We used to talk for hours, and I liked that. And I used to talk about my stuff with you and I felt like you cared, but lately I don’t. Even when I told you about Drew the last time you slept over, I thought maybe you’d be happy for me for having my first date ever. Or that maybe you’d be more sympathetic when I told you that it didn’t work out. But it didn’t seem like you cared at all. You seemed kind of bored listening to my problems, actually.

It looked like you would have rather left with Nate* and (the other)Sarah to go do whatever, instead of hanging out with me and actually talking with me for the first time in 8 months. I guess maybe I'm too boring for you now.

The thing that gets me the most is that you slowly drifted away from me, and I get the feeling that it's mostly because I don't go to your school anymore. And that's the exact thing that we both promised wouldn't happen.
To sum it all up, I just don’t even feel like I’m your friend anymore. And that really makes me sad, but I just don't feel like you care either way. And that makes me even sadder.

Your Ex-Best Friend Who Has Apparently Already Been Forgotten,

Sarah

(xo Hopeless Romantic)

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College? Oh, yeah...that.}
Friday, October 7, 2011 | 5:59 PM | 3Comment

This week was a bit of a rollercoaster, Internet.

First off, being a Senior, as you can imagine I've been getting an influx of brochures and letters from colleges, and ones from all over the place. At first it was only a few, and now it's at least 3 or 4 different ones a week.

And not only that, but I've also been needled and prodded by my parents for the past few months too, understandably. After all, they are paying for it. But I suppose I wasn't quite prepared for all of it at once.

College has been something I've been stressing about since the end of Junior year. I keep thinking over and over about how I would handle living in dorms, going from just myself in my little schoolroom to literally thousands of other students around me at once, and college life in general. Every time I'd get a new college brochure, I would bite back a grimace and these thoughts would arise again.

But I hadn't said anything about it to really anybody, I'd just kept it inside with everything else.

Until this Monday.

That day, I had just finally finished going over what I'd write for my Oedipus Rex essay. It was one that I was putting a lot of pressure on myself for, considering it was my first official essay for my AP class. And it didn't help that I've had ginormous writer's block for the past month and a half. Along with that, I'd been thinking a lot about the whole Jazz thing (I'll make a separate entry for this, promise) and that's been weighing heavy on me. And ON TOP OF ALL THAT, I had literally gotten no sleep the night before thanks to my period cramps, of which I was on the third day of (which, I've learned from the past, is my most moody day).

All of these together do not a happy Sarah make.

So I'd basically woken up early, eaten breakfast, and sat down to work, perfectly okay. (Well not 'perfectly', but certainly okay compared to how I ended up later.) Getting two lessons done and out of the way pretty sufficiently, I decide to listen to some music while I write my essay, since I always do my best writing when I listen to music.

So I go to my favorite music streaming site and lo and behold, I start playing Set Fire to the Rain by Adele. When I get in my writing mood, I get very serious and even emotional. And Set Fire to the Rain made me flat-out cry the first time I heard it.

Listening to the (amazingly written, emotionally sang) lyrics of this song, I start thinking about love and relationships. (Sound familiar?)

And I think to myself, 'god, if something like love is so beautiful, how can it cause someone--anyone--so much pain?'

I start thinking about everything that can go wrong in relationships. Someone cheats, someone falls out of love, both fall out of love, someone dies. And I just think, why the hell would someone put themselves through that kind of misery?

Sure, everyone says there's always good with the bad, that it's all worth it. But is it really?

So. I'm thinking about stuff like this, feeling my mood dip to ridiculous lows, while listening to this heartbreaking song on repeat. And then before I realize it, it's been an hour that I'm sitting there, just thinking about this. I stare at the clock, knowing full well that I'm wasting precious work time, but I cannot stop thinking about this. It's like my mind is stuck on it.

Soon, I go from thinking about relationships to how I've never been in one, and how much I'm beginning to detest the idea of being in one. I wonder if I'll become one of those toxic girls that break up with the guys they're with just because they're afraid of commitment, and afraid of being hurt. I wonder if I'll become one of those unmarried swingers in my 40's, still running from commitment, running and hiding from the possibility of marriage and then divorce; crying and screaming and fighting with the one I used to love. I wonder about these women that I saw on this TV special once, ones that stayed a swinger their whole lives and into their 80's and ended up never having their own children and grandchildren all because they were afraid of being loved.

And I start to cry. Nothing hardcore, but I legitimately tear up, because that train of thoughts made me so overwhelmingly sad that I literally hurt inside.

And before I knew it, soon it had been another hour I'd sat there doing nothing. I turned Adele off, wiping the tears off my face, feeling absolutely ridiculous. I needed to do an essay, and I was sitting there crying for no reason.
So I straightened up. And I stared at that blank white Word document for at least fifteen minutes, trying to make words come out, staring at that short little dash waiting for my typed words, watching it blink on and off, on and off. I flipped through the pages of my copy of Oedipus Rex and stared at the ones I'd put post-its on.

And then...nothing. I could not even think of where to begin. My brain felt like melted chocolate. I was so tired my muscles felt like jelly, I was growing increasingly frustrated, and now because of my Adele-intense-thinking-session, I was sad.

And. I just started crying.

Not even the tearing up like last time, I'm talking full-on, hands covering face crying. Those tears just poured out of my eyes like they'd built up in there. And I threw down my copy of Oedipus Rex and stormed out of the room, because everything in that moment was so overwhelming that I had to get away.

I went downstairs to where my mom was, as she'd just gotten home an hour before, and I just stood there blubbering while she tried to ask me what was wrong, getting answers like "I...(hiccup)I just....(sob)....I CAN'T(sniff hic)....(sob)" And since she'd known about my lack of sleep the night before, she tried telling me to go take a nap, with which I answered "(sob) but it's too hooooot (WAIL HIC SOB)", which she then replied that I could sleep in her and dad's room, because it's infinitely cooler than my room and my office for some reason. She also told me I could take a sick day, so I could just rest for the rest of the day.

So I promptly went back upstairs to my parents' room, spread out a blanket on top of it, and proceeded to weep some more.

I was too upset to even go to sleep, even though I was exhausted, so I just laid there and cried over everything. Over love, over my stupid freaking essay, over Jazz, over college, over change, over money problems, over my self esteem, over everything.

I just basically had a meltdown of epic proportions.

After 3 hours of just laying there and crying and crying and crying my eyes out, my mom finally came in, pretty bewildered that I was still crying. And I told her about everything that was eating me up inside, because I had to tell someone, or I'd explode (or my tear ducts would rupture, whichever came first).

I told her about I felt like I couldn't write anything. I told her about how I felt at that moment like my confidence had dropped through the basement. I told her about how I'm scared of relationships. I told her how scared I was about college, because I am. And I didn't realize how terrified I was until I started sobbing even harder after I told her.

I'll be honest. I'm scared of leaving the security of my school room for learning, being surrounded by complete strangers after 1. knowing everyone at my old private school and 2. after just having to be home for school, without other people's drama and judgments. I'm scared of having a roommate and living in a dorm with communal bathrooms, meaning, my 2 hours for washing my hair alone? Gone. Goodbye long hair, goodbye privacy.

I'm scared of leaving my dog, who has epileptic seizures and means the absolute world to me, and how when I go to college, I won't see her as much, and when I finish college she'll be old, and I won't be able to play with her anymore.

I'm scared of leaving my younger cousins who I love to death, especially the youngest of them, who is almost one and a half, but who might not remember me if I'm never at home anymore.

I'm so scared of college.

I hate change. And college will be the biggest change of my life so far.

So I told my mom this. And you know what she said? "Why don't you just take some time off before college?"

Had I even thought about this possibility? No. I'd heard about kids taking a semester or year off before, but I never thought it was an option for me. All my cousins on my dad's side of the family all graduated high school with honors, all went to Ivy League universities. I just assumed this standard was expected of me, too.

But as soon as she brought it up, so easily and simply, the knot in my stomach began to loosen.

We started talking about it even more, and I realized that it's what I think is best for me. Not just because of my anxiety, but my situation in general.

Think about it. I've been homeschooled for three years now. When I'm not out with Best Friend Rose, or shopping with Mom, I'm sitting at home, due to not having a license/car or a job. And not only that, but I have pretty bad anxiety when faced with even the smallest change. Throwing me straight into not only a completely new environment, but a completely new environment with thousands of strangers, and even living with a stranger? Holy hell. I'd probably go into shock.

But if I took a year off before going to University, perhaps taking some classes at a community college, finding a part time job, and finally getting my license, the transition might be a little easier to handle when I do leave.

I don't plan on never going to University, ever. I know that I'll need to go, and the sooner I can, the better. I don't plan on waiting 20 or 30 years to go to college like some people. But I feel like this will take some pressure and stress off of me in general. My parents are completely understanding about it, and even a little relieved and proud of me that I'm making this decision for myself and not just doing something because that's the way everyone else is going.

So, that's just it, Internet. I'm going to take a break before college. How long it'll be, I haven't quite decided, but this is what is best for me. I know people won't get it, and they'll probably judge me for it, but they can just deal. It's my future career after all, not theirs.

So after me and mom talked about this, I finally stopped crying, and my face was so puffy that I looked like an elderly woman. And we talked some about Jazz, and then some about love, and then my stomach had finally settled enough that I wanted to eat dinner.

And then I went to bed early and felt loads better in the morning.

I'm telling you, Internet, that was one doozy of a day. I don't remember ever crying that hard in my recent memory, even when I was nervous about meeting Drew. But sometimes a girl just needs a good cry.

The rest of the week went much better, and I finally (and successfully!!) finished my essay, but most of all I feel most satisfied about making this decision. It was an important one, and I'm glad I made it now rather than later.

In other news, no football games lately. There was supposed to be one tonight, but it was canceled. There hasn't been one for a month now, and I couldn't tell you why. Huh. But Homecoming is Oct 15, and I forsure plan on going. More on that soon!

Here's to being being more emotionally stable after breakdowns.

xo Hopeless Romantic

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