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how do emotions work, anyway? (scary epiphanies are scary.)}
Friday, January 30, 2015 | 12:21 AM | 0Comment

And why do they come back to haunt you at the most inconvenient times?

Internet, I need to be blatantly, even bleakly honest with you. In a way that I haven't in a while.

But first, let me tell you about this book that I just finished reading called Lola and the Boy Next Door. (WARNING!!! Many many many spoilers ahead for this book, and if you haven't read it and want to read it and don't want it to be totally and completely spoiled for you, stop reading now!!)

This book is about a few things, but MAINLY it's about a girl named Lola and the guy she has a long, complicated history with, Cricket. I read this book in a few weeks, and the entire time I read it, there were a lot of things I was feeling.

You know when you read a book, and this book just gets you? Like, it brings up all of the things you needed to hear at that exact moment in time, and it takes your feelings, puts a knife in them, and twists it over and over again? That was this book for me. I loved this book, but it was excruciating for me.

You see, in the book, Cricket is the boy that Lola loves. And he lives next door sometimes, but other times, he moves around. A lot. And the biggest part of their past that's brought up in the book is the last time Cricket moves away, and right before that when Lola falls in love with him, hard. When she was 15 years old.

Sounding familiar so far? Well, at the beginning of the book is when Cricket's family moves back from somewhere far away, after she fell in love with him, an entire two years later. When she's 17.

What? What's that you say? No, nobody wrote a book about my life. This is EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED IN THE BOOK. I swear to God you guys, opening this book and reading it was like stepping into my own past.

So. You see why this book was hard for me to read?

And in addition to this: during the holidays, and New Years, for the first time in almost 3 years, I was thinking about Ricky Bobby. A lot.

You guys...this is so incredibly hard for me to admit. So humiliating for me to admit, in fact, that I almost didn't. I've been agonizing over whether to even write this entry. Still debating over whether or not to post it. (I probably will. I'll still be humiliated, though.)

Part of me is hoping that it's partly due to the holidays and such...I tend to get very nostalgic during this time of year. I was nostalgic and sad during Christmas 2013 too, but over entirely different people and for totally different reasons. So I was kinda hoping that it would just go away on its own.

Then I picked up this book with my giftcard I got for Christmas and started it. And got the reality ass-kicking of a lifetime.

To spoil how it ends (sorry), she and Cricket get their happy ending. And throughout their happy ending, all I could think about was how Ricky Bobby and I never had the chance for a happy ending.

This book brought up a whole mess of scary questions for me.

Lola took her chances and went for what she wanted. Why couldn't I have gone after what I wanted? Why was I not honest enough with myself to realize what I wanted in the first place? Cricket knew what he wanted, too. Did Ricky Bobby want me? And perhaps, by running away and breaking off contact with him because I was so scared of being hurt, did I hurt him? Was he going to tell me that he wanted me eventually, but I never gave him a chance? Did my own fear ruin my chances of having a first love?

The whole time I read this book, these questions consumed me. They chewed me up and spit me back out. To the point where I felt like the pressure was building up and up and up and I was going to explode.

In addition to all this, things with Brennan have come to an abrupt halt on my end. After a while of thought, I realized I definitely wasn't interested in him that way at all, and that he was really into me and I wasn't being fair. (Or that he's still into me. He still acts like he is, so...I don't know.) I'm trying to avoid the 'let's just be friends' talk with him for now, especially since we've had it before already and I don't enjoy confrontation. But I know that keeping quiet about it isn't good either.

But this entire thing has frustrated me all over again. Is the dating world supposed to be this hard? Some people make it look so easy. Dipping in and out of relationships with ease. Some being able to have nice, actual serious relationships. And here I am, me, who's never had anything work out enough to even have one single boyfriend. Is it me? Is it my fault?

So under all of this stress in my mind, I don't think I was in my right mind. And I did something.

I sent a friend request to Ricky Bobby on Facebook.

Honestly...I'm embarrassed. This is just like 5 years ago. Why am I constantly repeating myself? Going in circles?

I think I thought maybe that if I added him on Facebook, it would help calm the loud questions in my head, give me peace of mind. So I sent him a request, and he accepted the request, and for about a week afterwards, I felt better. I let it be, and I had some peace.

Until one night I made the mistake of letting curiosity get to me. And I went to look at his page.

Yep, I snooped. Like I was freaking 17 years old again. I think everyone does this on social networking sites, and I actually do this with other people too. But this time...felt different. It was like, from the beginning, I was purposely looking for something. Maybe that's why it felt wrong. (By the way...he's like...hairy. The face scruff has turned to almost a full blown beard now, and his hair on his head is super long. He's just...hairy.)

Maybe consciously, I didn't know what I was looking for. Scrolled through pics of him at his job, party pics, with almost zero emotion. But then abruptly, after I was scrolling for a while, my heart stopped and my breath caught. I'd found it.

Him and his ex. Lots and lots of pictures of him and his ex.

Pictures of them hugging, pictures of them with their faces squished together, pictures of him with his arm around her shoulders. Lots and lots of pictures.

And within all of those pictures, I found something else. Something scary. Terrifying.

I felt jealous.

I felt a jealousy so deep, so intense that my heart was pounding loud in my ears and my face was red and my hands were shaking. At the same time, I was trying to calm myself down. This reaction was crazy, I knew it. And I felt completely irrational.

And staring at those pictures, I could think of only one thing: 'That could've been me.' 

Where was this coming from suddenly? Was it just ghosts of old emotions, coming back to trick me? Or worse, were they current emotions, back strong and real and there? 

 So, as frustrated as I was, the day after this happened, I had a long talk with my mom. And told her everything. About the book I was reading bringing up everything again, about me thinking about him again, about the ex pictures. Everything. And mind you, me and my mom talk about everything. I tell her everything that's on my mind, and during the holidays, I'd brought up Ricky Bobby to her at least 2 different times. But this time it was different.

"I think...I think I felt jealous over his ex." I told her after explaining the request getting accepted and all the pictures to her. "I don't want to be jealous, but it was uncontrollable." I told her that I kept thinking that his ex could've been me. "I couldn't help it, it just came over me and I don't know why."

And then my mom said something that was kind of devastating. "It's because you still have feelings for him."

I sat there, mouth agape. Because she said exactly what I'd been afraid of this entire time. And then I closed my eyes, put my hands over my eyes and started crying. "But it doesn't make any sense," I said. "I haven't seen him in over 4 years."

She said softly, "Emotions aren't supposed to make sense. Sometimes they don't."

I kept crying into my hands. "I feel like I'm crazy."

All she said was, "I know."

Yeah.

Internet............to be totally honest with you, my headspace has scared me lately. And my emotions have scared me lately. My head knows this is impossible, knows that 4 years is entirely too late to think this way, and that he's likely never thought of me once in the past couple of years. My head knows that reacting this way to a book is completely irrational and insane. My head knows that people change a lot in the space of 4 years; hell, I've changed so much that some people might find me unrecognizable compared to how I was/how I looked 4 years ago. My head knows that logically I don't even know him anymore.

But the emotional side of me keeps telling me, over and over, that what I felt for Ricky Bobby was special. And rare. And the more I get older, the harder it will be for me to find it. Maybe I might never find it again.

And increasingly, I'm angry at myself. I'm angry at myself for never letting myself fully realize how I really felt about him. I'm angry at myself for being afraid of taking a freaking chance, for once in my life, and going for something even though it could've ended in utter failure.

Say the Noodles & Co scenario happened now, would I have taken the risk? Absolutely. I would have called Johnny, asked to hang out with him and Ricky Bobby soon, and taken the initiative. I would have finally, finally, told him how I felt about him. I have more confidence and self esteem now than I did then, so it makes sense. But I wish I would have back then anyway, even if he had rejected me again. At least I would have had closure.

Because that's what I think this is. I never had proper closure with Ricky Bobby.

And all this time, I was willfully pushing him to the back of my mind and distracting myself with other things instead of truly dealing with things and truly moving on. Instead of running away. When I still had time, and before it was too late. Before he got back together with the girl he almost dated in Pennsylvania before he moved back, and started a long distance relationship with her.

From what I can tell, they dated from the start of 2012 and broke up late 2013. If he dated anyone since then, I don't know. But I remember thinking how ironic it was that he almost dated someone there before he moved back here, thinking that that could've been me. And then looking at all their couple pictures now, and thinking the same thing.

What kills me the most is thinking that maybe probably the biggest difference between me and her was that she was braver. More confident. Went after what she wanted, just like Lola.

And me? Frozen by fear. Just like with everything else in my life. Letting fear and pride get in the way of what I truly wanted.

So Internet...reaching this epiphany of mine of the past couple of weeks has been truly painful.

Before any of you worry, I won't be acting on this. I definitely won't. Not like I could anyway. Even though he lives in my state still, he still lives hours away, so I won't be running into him. Johnny and I aren't friends anymore. And I have a feeling that Ricky Bobby accepted my friend request out of pity, or because he accepts every friend request, so I won't be talking to him on there either. But at least my curiosity has been cured, so there's that.

Realistically, the only thing left to do now is to try and learn from all of this. I don't know if I'll ever feel about someone else the way I did about Ricky Bobby. But when I do, I hope I'll have the courage to act. Because acting is better than running away from it, which is infinitely worse.

These questions about him and I, and all of the what ifs, will probably haunt me forever. But that's my fault, and I have to deal with it. And I will. I just need time.

So for now, my foray into the dating world may be on halt again. After all, first I need to figure out what to do about Brennan.

Part of me thinks that maybe letting things fade into casual friendship might be the best thing--you know, instead of confrontation that could lead to a big blowout and never talking again. So that may be what I'll do. But if he does ask, then I'll tell him the truth and hope for the best.

And meanwhile, I'll be grudgingly preparing myself for the upcoming Single Awareness Day season. Ugh.

But I'll be all right, Internet. Just give me some time. Don't worry, okay? But for future reference, don't be like me. Be a Lola.

xo Hopeless Romantic 

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Fiddy Update.}
Wednesday, April 11, 2012 | 2:29 PM | 0Comment

Internet, this entry is one of the biggest reasons why I'm glad this blog is anonymous. And it's not even about me.

I've felt this entry was in order for a long time now (after all, I mentioned this in passing in...September 2010? Yeah. That long ago.), but I couldn't bring myself to write about it for a while because it's just...not a terribly happy topic. And I feel like I need to have some tact while talking about this.

Fiddy. Remember him? No? It's okay, he's from a loooooong time ago. Check out these for reference: These and this and these also. Also, excuse the obnoxiousness of those entries. I thought I was hot shit. Pfft. And look at how many times I mention Myspace! Myspace! Bahaha!

SO. Basically, when I left my old school Sophomore year, it turned out that Fiddy left the school too, along with a few of his friends.
He transferred to a public school, and may I mention, a state-wide renowned public school, known far and wide for its high-quality, Ivy-League education, and also.......its infamous drug problem. Funny how those often go hand in hand. At least in my state.

So, he transfers to this school, and I'm just starting out my online school experience, and so I don't hear anything about him for a while, except for this thing where he calls Jessica Simpson one night, drunk and crying, telling her that he's madly in love with her and always has been (which, of course, blows over and is forgotten about between them within a week.)

But then. BUT THEN. By the end of the school year, there comes news that blows my socks off, causes pigs to fly, causes hell to freeze over, and causes the space time continum to rip in half.

Fiddy has an STD. And he's gotten a girl he's just started seeing, Michelle*, PREGNANT.

Mind you, Fiddy was only 16 at the time, and this news came directly from Fiddy himself, to Jessica Simpson, who directly told Best Friend Rose, who directly told me. This was no through-the-grapevine-rumor-conceived-of-boredom.

Shit got real.

To this day, I don't know which STD he'd gotten, but I feel like if it were something as serious as HIV or AIDS this story would have been much more tragic (although it isn't exactly all rainbows and kittens as it is). But, an STD is an STD. And that blows. A lot.

And not to mention the STD, but the pregnancy as well. Michelle was 18 at the time of conception, I believe, which is obviously slightly better than some 15 year old still in High School, but it's still a blow.

You know, the first thing I thought of when I heard it was Michelle that got pregnant was that she was my fourth grade buddy.

I remember in the first grade, we had gotten fourth grade buddies assigned to us at the beginning of the year. We'd gotten fifth grade buddies the year before, but since the fifth graders went off to the sixth grade after that, it didn't last long.

I remember her being assigned to me and thinking that she was the nicest, coolest girl ever. She was always kind to me, and whenever I saw her, I would run to give her a hug. Sometimes I'd see her in passing, and she would be by herself, tailing behind others in her class, or sitting with one other friend. I'm not sure if this is a real memory, or something my mind conjured up, but I'm almost certain that I once saw her sitting by herself, on the playground or elsewhere, crying.

Years later, in the sixth grade, somewhere at the beginning of the year, I happened to see her and her friends in the middle school building, because they had all come back down from the High School to say hi to some of their younger friends and their old teachers. I distinctly remember being shocked by her appearance, something that happened often that year, because I was still getting used to middle school and how everyone seemed to change into different people that year. I hadn't seen her in a long time. She was a lot slimmer, and she had on the fashionable clothes that I saw the other older, popular girls wear, like clothes from the mall. Everyone seemed to want to talk to her, or knew her somehow.

Once I got the chance to walk up to her with a group of friends I was with, I noticed she hadn't really noticed me there. After a minute or two, during a lull in the conversation, I ask Michelle directly, "Do you remember me?"

As I speak to her, she glances over at me blankly. "No," she says. "Sorry, I don't." And then she turns to one of the friends I'm with, who she clearly remembers, to change the subject.

I don't know why, but this fills me with such an immense disappointment and humilation that I don't say anything more. In fact, whenver I see her around after that day, I go to great lengths to avoid her.

As disappointing as this was to be treated like I didn't exist when we were pretty close for a while when we were younger, I think in a way I understand. To me, Michelle always seemed like someone who didn't like to approach her demons, and maybe in a way I was inadvertedly part of that nasty past that she didn't want to remember. Or maybe she just simply forgot about me. Either way, I still sort of get it.

Anyway. I think this is why the news hit me so hard.

This wasn't one of the spoiled rotten teen moms on MTV that I, and apparently a good portion of America, have no problem watching for entertainment value. I have to admit it, before I heard about this news, I watched 16 and Pregnant and Teen Mom and what have you every week. But ever since then, I haven't been able to bring myself to watch those shows anymore.

It was like reality came and falcon kicked me in the face. This wasn't MTV. This wasn't the quirky light-heartedness of Juno (which, by the way, is still one of my favorite movies) brought to life. This was people I know, grew up with, went to school with, dealing with this.

I think to think of it in any other way would be petty. I know people that heard this news and said things like 'it had to have happened to Fiddy eventually' and 'that's what Michelle gets for being a slut' and even got great enjoyment out of it. And that sickens me.

And it makes me feel bad for watching those teen moms on television and not feeling any sympathy for them. Because how is that different from those people who ridiculed Fiddy and Michelle? It's not different at all. As fake as reality TV can be sometimes, they're still real people too.

Even if I don't know those girls, I have no right to mock them for their mistakes. It makes me no better than those others. And even if Fiddy and Michelle weren't my friends, or even particularly people I like, I can still feel sympathy for them. And those that didn't, at all? Well. They're nobody that I want to associate with.

Yes, they made a mistake. But that gives no one else the right to ridicule them for it and rub it in their face.

By now, Michelle has had their baby, and they're actually still together and very happy. Their baby is adorable, and healthy.

And I actually have so much respect for Fiddy because he stepped up to the plate and stayed with his son and his girlfriend, even with faced with something like that while he's still a teenager. From what I've heard, he's a great dad, and he's still finishing High School this year.

Honestly, who could think of a better way of handling a situation like this? It could have gone badly in any number of ways, and instead, they're happy. And that's beautiful.

I won't lie, it feels sort of weird blogging so extensively about two other people that aren't even my friends, but I guess I wanted to because I want someone--anyone--out there to hear this story and to know that teenage pregancy exists, and it's important to confront it instead of ignoring it and pretending it doesn't exist. It doesn't exist only in the next town over, it doesn't happen only to certain kinds of people, it exists, period.

Fiddy's and Michelle's lives have changed for good now, and there will always be those people that will love to never let them live this down, but from the bottom of my heart, I hope they'll always remember that despite everything else, they have their precious baby boy.

And I really, really hope they'll continue to be happy.

xo Hopeless Romantic

(Working on getting pictures on these entries! Sorry!)

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The Ricky Bobby curse.}
Wednesday, November 3, 2010 | 9:15 AM | 0Comment


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

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