♡ the life of a 25 year old hopeless romantic ♡

♡

Welcome \
♡


"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."






Shout |
Questions? Concerns? Random observations?
Leave me a message here, or email me here. ♥



Credit ]
Full credit to the creator of this skin.

©Template make by Adila. Base code Zaty. Some code from Jaera.



refresh profile affies follow?♡

on the dangers of nostalgia.}
Tuesday, July 21, 2015 | 11:23 PM | 0Comment

So, Internet. Ricky Bobby.

It's been a little while since I posted my painfully honest, really humbling and terrifying letter.

Writing that letter, along with the totally raw post I made in January (where I basically finally admitted to myself and to you guys where my mental state was in high school when he moved back), honestly...it felt like ripping back open old wounds. It was that painful for me.

And yet, they were completely necessary. I don't know why it took me nearly 5 years to be able to do it, but I'm glad that I eventually arrived there. Late honesty is at least better than holding onto the lie.

In the months since writing it, I have very slowly began to feel better about all of these regrets. And even though in the end, I decided not to send the letter to him, just getting it there--out in existence, out of my brain--relieved some of the worries and upset about it.

So. These past few months, I've been going about my business. Taking things day by day, focusing on my health, writing my ass off (if you follow me on Twitter, you'll know what I mean).

This month, I've been preoccupied with writing a lot and also pre-friends'-wedding-jitters (why was I so nervous? It wasn't even my wedding! Sheesh!) So I had barely enough time to think about anything else.

But.

The day before Jazz's birthday, it was Ricky Bobby's birthday.

I got the notification for it, right there on Facebook. And to be honest, I already knew about it. I mean...of course I would remember his birthday.

After talking about it with one of my friends (the same friend that advised against me sending the letter), we decided an innocent birthday wall post couldn't hurt. Everyone does that, right? Even if you're not close to that person anymore, it's still nice to wish them happy birthday. I do that for some people I haven't even talked to in years. Some people I went to school with did that for me too, and I didn't find it strange or awkward, I actually thought it was nice.

So. After a small period of panic, typing, backspacing, typing, backspacing again, looking at his FB page and sweating profusely, and typing again, I finally decided to post on his wall.

It was small, unassuming, unimposing, polite. "happy birthday, ricky bobby! i hope you've been doing well."

That's all.

No, "happy birtHDAYI'M SORRY I WAS SUCH A BITCH TO YOU".

No, "happy birthday!!!! god I really miss you sometimes!!!! I've been thinking about you for months!!!!!!!! Sometimes I think about you for so long that I send myself into an absolutely miserable downward spiral!!!!!!!!!! Why the hell didn't I date you?!?! HOPE UR GOOD".

No, "happy bir--did you ever actually like me, at any point?? Or were you even interested in me that way??? Did I ruin my chances with you??? Did I make you hate me forever???? Do you not even give a single shit about me anymore???????"

Nope.

Even though I strongly want to say all of those things to him, it's hit me now that I may never will. And you know what? Maybe I'll just have to live with that. Maybe I wouldn't want to know the response to those things, anyway.

So, I'm sure you want to know how he responded.

He didn't.

Looking at Ricky Bobby's history with social media websites and how he uses them, this wasn't a surprise to me. No reply, not even a like.

It stung a little bit, but you know what? Maybe in a way, that was an answer to all of the questions that plagued my mind the past half a year.

Not responding to my mild attempt at social courtesy, to which other people would probably at least respond with a like(which says yes, I see your reaching out to me, and I appreciate it)...somehow, no response said more than a polite response would have ever said.

If he had even liked that I reached out to him, he would have responded in some way, right? So maybe he didn't like that wall post of mine. Maybe he didn't like that I was speaking to him for the first time in 4 years after blocking him, unblocking him and adding him as a friend again and acting like nothing ever happened. Completely understandable and justified that he would feel that way. It's not that I was even expecting a particularly warm response, either, after the way that I acted.

It's clear that my reaching out was unwelcome. And somehow, finding out this way is easier to take.

Imagine if I actually had sent that letter to him. Imagine the response that would have gotten.
To be truthful, if it had received no response at all, like this had, it would have been like a stab in an old scar for me. It would've felt like one gigantic, final, end-all-be-all rejection of my heart and everything that I felt for him, balled up and thrown in the trash like my letter probably would have been.

So, that's it now. It's time to stop. No more.

I had my regrets, worries, and fears, and for the most part, they've all been answered now. It's time I move on for real now. For good.

He'll become a part of my past that I stop revisiting, a Facebook friend I never talk to anymore, just keep them in my friend's list for the sake of knowing how they're doing. That's enough for me now, just knowing he's doing okay.

I need to stop revisiting him, need to stop trying to bring him back into my life when it's clear that he's not meant to be there anymore. And that's perfectly all right. That's what happens when you grow up.

Maybe Ricky Bobby was my first (unrequited) love. I created this entire blog that testifies to that very possibility.

People don't always get together with or stay together with their first loves, I'd say they rarely ever do. But people do get over their first loves. Maybe it takes them years and years and years, but they do eventually. Maybe they'll always have a teeny tiny piece of their heart. Maybe Ricky Bobby will always be unknowingly carrying around a tiny piece of my heart with him. That's okay.

And that doesn't mean I need to be with him. I never will be with him. And that's okay, too. I realize that now.

These last endless months of dangerous nostalgic feelings may have partly been so severe because, with the wedding of one of my closest friends, now more than ever I have had to face the fact that my life is different now.
I am not the same girl I was in high school, though I may feel that way sometimes. I've changed in so many ways, and the people I used to know have too. Their personalities, their wants, their needs, their entire lives. And so has mine.

The Ricky Bobby I used to know, the Ricky Bobby of my lovely, cherished memories, is gone now. Living his new life. Wanting different things than 8th grade and 11th grade Ricky Bobby wanted. And the 11th grade Sarah of his memories, if he ever stops to revisit them, is gone too.

It's time to live my new life, too. Without getting dragged back by nostalgia and all my memories. I can still cherish the memories, but I need to leave them in the past for good now. Where they belong.



One more thing I want to write down, before I stop blogging about Ricky Bobby for a very long time, possibly (and hopefully) forever, is this:

During these months of self inflicted, nostalgia fueled torment, I decided to revisit Ricky Bobby's old band in high school, the one he was lead singer of before he moved back to my state and they replaced him with another singer.

Well. Wouldn't you know it, Internet. They were signed to a major indie label, and they're becoming popular. Popular as in, SXSW performances two years in a row, touring worldwide, performance at a big music festival in New York this year with huge mainstream artists, interviews with Rolling Stone, along with raving Rolling Stone reviews, interviews in Interview mag, Nylon mag, performances on late night talk shows on TV--that popular.

Yeah. I KNOW. Crazy, right??

They're certainly quite the sensation (I can't name them, for the sake of protecting identities and all that), and the lead singer they replaced Ricky Bobby with is certainly talented, especially for his age. (Though he sounds just like a few other bluegrass/soul influenced rock vocalists of the same genre...just my opinion, though.) But when I was catching up on this band, upon visiting their Wikipedia page...I noticed something. You know that 'past members' section that a lot of bands have on their Wiki page, if they have any past members of the group? They had only one past member listed there, one of the original members that formed the group in high school. And no Ricky Bobby.

I also noticed that in their interviews, when they talked about the formation of the band, they never mentioned him, either. Never even mention that the band had an old singer.

I specifically remember them crediting Ricky Bobby as an old member on their (now gone) Myspace Music page and their Facebook page a while ago. Now they don't. They don't even have record of their old songs with his voice in them, no online proof that they ever even existed (though that may have something to do with copyrights and record label stuff).

Now. Honestly, Internet. If I was a part of a band at some point, even a really successful band, as they're becoming...I would want that credit. Even if it were just a couple words. An acknowledgement that I was a part of that band and I had a hand in creating it. And it seemed wrong to me that they weren't doing that for him anymore, especially when he deserved it.

So. Call me crazy, go on ahead. But I decided to do something about it.

Their official Facebook and website I couldn't do anything about, but their Wikipedia page, I could. So I did. On the spot, I made a Wikipedia account, with some random username that I would never use ever again, and I edited that Wiki page.

I added Ricky Bobby's name to that Wiki page under 'Past Members'. Where he deserved to be. And if anyone every takes it off, I'll put it back on again.

For me, it was...I don't know. The last nice thing I could do for Ricky Bobby, even though he'll never know that it was me. Something nice that I could do after the way that I treated him. A permanent mark on the Internet, symbolizing the permanent mark he left in my life.

Or even an official goodbye, the one we never got to have.

This is it, Internet. This is my goodbye to Ricky Bobby. For real this time.



Speaking of goodbyes and movings on, and non Ricky Bobby things, here's someone I haven't talked about in a while: Brennan.

So, last week, for the first time in a while, I got a snapchat from him. (Thankfully not of his cat this time. Did I talk about his cat snapchats here? I swear, there was at least 3 every week for 2 months straight.) I was surprised to see it, especially since after my icing out of him, he seemed to have finally given up.

After seeing that he also kept looking at all of my Snapchat stories, I decided to snoop around to see how he was doing lately.

We're not Facebook friends, but since we have a mutual friend (a girl I went to elementary school with), he shows up in my recommended friends all the time. So I snoop his page, and guess what?

Brennan has a girlfriend.

Yup.

He moved on pretty fast. It seems to have been pretty recent (they weren't dating earlier this year) and deciding to be creepy, I went onto her FB page to snoop. She's cute, and seems nice. Is a super anime fan like he is (cosplays and everything) and is a gamer as well. And together, they take super cute dates to the zoo and to parks and other super duper cute shit.

Not going to lie to you, Internet, I was a teeny bit jealous at first. And then I remembered that it was me who didn't want to date him in the first place, and me who wasn't even attracted to him, and me who ignored all his invitations to hang and all his friendly messages and cute (and ok, excessive) cat snapchats like an ice cold bitch.

I was just salty at first because how many freaking times does this make now that I almost date someone and then they turn around date someone else right after me?? But this time it is 100% my fault, which I acknowledge and fully own up to, so I digress.

So, getting over my petty jealousy, I decided I was happy for him for finding a nice girl. Who didn't ignore him, like me. Who clearly had more in common with him than me.

Congrats, Brennan and Girlfriend. Have a nice relationship. I promise I'll keep my bitter jealousy far away from the both of you.

So, Internet, I'll be over here, continuing to write my ass off, finishing this 31 day writing challenge, and moving on with my life. I'm very slowly starting to learn how that works.

Wish me luck.

xo Hopeless Romantic

Labels: , , ,


jazz's wedding.}
Sunday, July 19, 2015 | 11:22 PM | 0Comment

Internet. The day I had been so nervously waiting upon with mixed feelings has finally happened.

The closer this day has gotten, the faster the days seemed to go.

As (some of) you might know, I've been participating in the summer edition of NaNoWriMo (national novel writing month). Which means that every day of July, I've been writing my ass off. At the end of July, I will hopefully have a completed full first draft of a story on my hands, which will make the second full, novel-length story I have completed just this year. (WOW.)

So far this month, I've been typing away at my laptop. And between all that typing and plotting and such, I've been thinking about this wedding.

Earlier this month, Jazz has visited twice. Once as a just-dropping-in kinda thing, and another the next week to give my mom a haircut (she's an officially liscensed hair stylist now. So proud of her.) The two visits put some things to rest that I'd been worried about the past couple of months.

The first one: she's definitely not moving. Her and her fiancee (now husband, but I'll get to that in a second, whew!) have bought their first house and have moved in already, and are getting things together in their new house. She even mentioned that after the wedding, we could hang out more. Which meant a LOT.

And the second one: She told me that I was the only person from our old school that she invited to the wedding. The ONLY ONE. She didn't even invite Colbie, who she's drifted away from the past couple of years and then permanently cut herself off from early this year when the aforementioned girl got MARRIED two months after calling off another wedding with a completely different guy, which she had originally asked Jazz to be a part of and made her buy an expensive bridesmaid's dress and everything, yikes. (I hadn't even known Colbie had gotten married! Me and Jazz were pretty tight with her in middle school, and she and Jazz were even closer in high school, so it's totally crazy that she would treat Jazz that way. The girl is nutso.)

Anyway, that told me that she really did value me as a friend, and that I wasn't just some obligation, or something. My worries about being left behind were put to rest.

The day she cut my mom's hair was her birthday. She came in the morning, and I wasn't feeling too hot (monthly gift), but I had written her a handwritten birthday letter.

Basically, the summarized gist of it (because I didn't keep record of exactly what I said, and dammit I should have) said, "Your 21st year will probably be the most important year of your life so far. There will be a lot of changes in your life this year, but I'm certain that if anyone can handle them, you can. Some changes I may not be able to relate to, but that doesn't matter. You're still my friend. I know that I don't act like it sometimes, but our friendship is important to me. I'm trying my best to work on that, though. I hope that no matter what changes we both go through, we'll still be here for each other and remember how important our friendship is. Happy Birthday. See you at your wedding!"

It was basically the simplified version of how I've been feeling, but she seemed to really love it. I hope she did.

So, back to the big day!!

In the days leading up to it, I took extra good care of my skin and hair, wanting to look good for pictures that might come back to haunt me in 10 years (HAH). That morning, I got up extra early to shave my legs, check the results of the sleeping mask I wore as I slept to get plump, flawless glowing skin (a great success!), do my makeup and hair, and I wore the pink dress that I got at that boutique downtown for my birthday.

Me and my parents headed over to the venue, which was a gorgeous, outdoor garden, with gazebos, fountains, statues, flowers, string lights, butterflies and lush green trees. The whole place was straight out of a fairytale book. They offered guests water and coffee upon entering, along with cute pamphlets for the wedding that had a crossword puzzle on the back with facts about the bride and groom.

After talking to Jazz's father (and giving him a hug of course), who was jittery but happy, we went to go find seats.

Determining which angle I would get the best pictures from (after Jazz told me her wedding would have an official hashtag for Instagram, I told her "I'm gonna Instagram this wedding like it's my job."), we sat. After a while of waiting, (and swatting flies with my pamphlet) it was time.

Her sister (her only bridesmaid) walked down the aisle, the groomsman came down the aisle, and then the music for the Jazz started as she came out in her beautiful white dress.

It's kind of strange, I didn't cry that much. Before, I was positive that I would be a wreck during the entire thing, but I wasn't. I only teared up once during the entire ceremony. My mom cried more than me, actually. Thinking back, aside from snapping pictures of all the important moments--her dad walking her down the aisle, her and her husband standing at the podium together holding hands, their first kiss together as man and wife--the whole thing feels like a dream.

I watched in a daze, half wondering if I was imagining the whole thing. In fact, looking back now, I'm crying more.

Even during the brunch reception, seeing them sign the certificate didn't make me cry. I didn't even cry during their first dance, although I enjoyed it and got a perfect, 15 second instavideo of it. (They danced to We Found Love by Ed Sheeran.) I didn't cry during the toasts, either.

It just hadn't hit me, I think. I can be that way with big life events, I'm learning--when something big happens, it doesn't fully hit me until much later. I watched one of the best friends I've ever had get married. I went to her wedding. Jazz has a husband now.

Speaking of their first dance, during it, I got a special surprise.

After taking my short instavid, I was standing there watching them dance when someone tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Sarah?"

Turning, I was facing my middle school nurse, Mrs. R*.

Some background here: Mrs. R was not just the middle school nurse. To me and Jazz, and several other girls at the school, she was a counselor. She was a friend. Our middle school years were our most tumultuous, and when things got really bad, we went to the nurse's office. Not just when we were sick, or when we were injured or didn't feel good. We went there for emotional counseling. Friend drama? Mrs. R had advice. Boy troubles? Mrs. R always had boy advice. Trouble at home? Mrs. R had advice and a shoulder to cry on.

She's probably the single reason that I made it through middle school in one piece. She's the reason I made it through all my Ricky Bobby troubles in the eighth grade, plus all of my other troubles. (I talked to her about him all the time. I remember right around when I realized how much I liked him, I was in her office one day during lunch, and I told her, verbatim, "Mrs. R, I just...I like him so so much. What am I gonna do?")

So, as you can imagine, seeing her was an enormous welcome surprise. I hugged her and squealed (she's shorter than me. Me, who's shorter than everybody.) and we talked for a little bit. She asked how I'm doing, and even though that's always an awkward question for me to answer (because I never know how to answer it. How am I doing, anyway? Am I good? Am I not? And why would I say if I wasn't?) I told her I was doing all right, and that I've been taking things one day at a time. I asked how she was doing, and she told me she doesn't work at the school anymore, and just works part time now. We talked for a little more, and then I told her that me and my parents were just about to leave, but that it was so nice to see her again (Looking back, I think I kind of seemed like I was in a rush to leave, and I feel bad about that. Damn social deficiencies.)

Talking to her again for the first time since middle school really was the cherry on top of an already nice day.

Before leaving, I went over to Jazz to give her a hug and say congratulations again (the first time was earlier in the reception, where I also forced her to take a selfie with me HAH), telling her goodbye and that I love her and that I kept my promise to post to Instagram with her hashtag. (Can you believe I was the only one at that wedding that used the hashtag? THE ONLY ONE. I saw lots of phones out at that wedding, how was I the only one?? But from the looks of it, my pics were the best ones--my brand new phone's high res. camera, crystal clear zoom and cute filters? Pfffft. No question, mine were definitely the best.)

Walking out of that fairytale wedding was just as surreal as walking into it.

I'm still in a daze about it all, although it may be finally hitting me now, somewhat. Seeing Jazz update her relationship status on Facebook may be part of it (from 'in a relationship' to 'married'. Whoa.). When she changes her last name there, it may hit me even more. When I got to their house for the first time, my head just might explode.

One thing for sure, though, is that I feel so grateful that I was able to be even a small part of this major event in her life.

After seeing them together, and seeing how happy she was, I can't believe I ever even questioned her choice. I can see now that this was a good decision, and that they're made for each other. Sometimes I'm such a cynic that it's hard for me to believe that other people could actually be happy together, and genuinely want to spend their whole lives together.

Maybe it's hard for me to believe sometimes because I haven't experienced a relationship at all, let alone that kind of love. I have no idea what that feels like. But seeing Jazz get married, I think I finally have a teeny little hope somewhere inside of me that someday, I could be lucky enough to.

This Hopeless Romantic has gained back some of the romantic inside of her after this wedding.

Congratulations, Jazz. All the best to you and your new husband. As you step forward in this new phase of your life, I'll be here, cheering you on, for as long as I possibly can.

xo Hopeless Romantic

Labels: , , , , ,