There's a few things about my blog that you should know.
I go by Hopeless Romantic for many reasons, but I guess one of them would be to protect the innocent. I'm not afraid to say what I think, so that also might be another reason. Haha. So, if some person I know irl were to come here and read every single one of my entries, they probably wouldn't know it was me. That's also why I make nicknames up for people I blog about.
I'm probably a lot more different than what most people would expect someone my age to be. Sure, I love clothes and make up and I'm a huge sucker for boybands.
But, I've been told that I have an old soul (Google it). Who knows? Maybe I do, maybe I don't. But please, take me seriously. That is all I ask. I'm a girl who's never been in a relationship before, so I don't throw the word 'love' around like a hot potato.
But I'm bound to have many crushes on the way, so, please enjoy reading about my roller coaster of a life.

Name : Sarah

I'm black, age 23.

Waist length hair, baby face, social anxiety.

Likes: Daydreaming, writing, reading, learning, fashion, eating, movies, all kinds of music, the color pink, kpop/jpop, kdramas/jdramas, the hollow heart emoticon, things that are cute, making people laugh, comic books.

Hates: Spiders, clubbing and or partying, really hot weather, close minded people, bigots, extreme sports.

contact:

email : here.
[NEW]twitter: @xohplssrmntc
follow me on twitter!♡


F.A.Q.

"Where are you from?"
The United States, in the western region of the country. I used to say 'mid-west', but just so you know, I didn't actually know what it meant, and I was using it wrong. Haha.

"Who do you think you are?"
Someone who's scared of everything and who hasn't completely figured out how to live yet.

"If you're so afraid of love, why are you so obsessed with it?"
I still haven't figured that out. But aren't we all?

{ ♡ }

imboycrazy I Wrote This for You. Le Love Gala Darling Caroline Calloway Insta-Memoir
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Internet, how was your Christmas? (Or Kwanzaa? Or Festivus? Or Winter Solstice? Or Hanukkah, which is still happening currently?)

As for me, my Christmas Eve and Christmas Day was super low key.

Due to a cold going around, my dad got sick and spent both days in bed. And the day after, my mom caught it, too. I, however, am upping my vitamin intake, drinking green tea religiously, keeping my hands sanitized, and hoping for the best. (I haven't had a cold since 2012 and do not intend changing that.)

So Christmas was mostly spent watching movies and eating, which is what I like to do during my holidays anyway. AND we got a surprise snow overnight! (And I got an IOU for my bed. Still getting it, but it'll probably be early next month instead. Nothing wrong with late gifts!)

But what I want to touch on is the days before Christmas.



So, Internet, I'm sure you could guess this from the tone of my last entry: I decided to message Brennan after all.

Dun dun dun.

Honestly, you guys, my guilt and curiosity was driving me crazy. I decided to go through with this because I finally realized that the regret I felt from not clearing things up between us was greater than any regrets I might have if he ignored me or dismissed my apology. (Because I knew that if he did, I would deserve it, and also there would be no more question of if he really resented me or not.)

So, the day before Christmas Eve Eve, I knew I had to do it, and as soon as possible.

I opened up the memos app on my phone and, after typing up what I hoped was an innocent enough seeming short opener (of the 'Could we talk?' variety, just to give him the option of ignoring me without inundating him with an unsolicited paragraph apology after not talking to him for ages. Not only would that be rude, but also probably pathetic.), then I crafted my apology.

I did my best to make it genuine and made sure that I owned up to my mistakes. I made sure that he knew that I knew what I did was mean spirited and that nothing he did warranted such treatment by me at all. I said that all this time I felt awful about how I had treated him. I also told him that if he wanted me to leave him alone again after this then I would, and that I wouldn't blame him.
Carefully, I also decided to tell him about my anxiety, and that I was dealing with a particularly potent onslaught of it at the time, and it contributed to my treatment of him as well.

After all of this was typed up into a lengthy paragraph, it was the moment of truth.



I opened up Instagram. An old DM thread from literally 2 years ago was there--I had sent him a surprise selfie, and he'd called me cutie and said that I'd brightened his day. Enter sad sigh here.

I resent that I have to do this way, through DM like I has freaking J*cob or something. I still have mighty contempt for that dude, but in this case, I felt some sympathy for him. Sending a DM that might not be received well is super nerve wracking. (But that's where my sympathy for him ends.)

I sent my opener to him, then immediately locked my phone, and left it to charge in another room for an hour and a half.

Unfortunately for me, I'd had a coffee earlier that day, so my anxiousness was off the charts for at least an hour. Skittering heart, shaking hands, churning stomach, nausea, the whole 9 yards.

After that hour and a half was up, I made myself go check my phone. It was now fully charged--but no response from Brennan. I opened up the message, and it said that it had been read.

Swallowing the immediate hurt I felt, I nodded, accepting this like a big girl. I tried to go out on a limb and it had been shot down. This happened to people all the time, and I would have to accept it. I mean, it didn't happen to me all the time, but that's just because I rarely take risks. But whatever, I told myself. Shake it off. At least you tried. And I was never entitled to a response from him anyway. This was what I deserved for acting like such a bitch before.

After I gave myself this internet pep talk, I glanced down at my phone one last time...and there was a new notification in my notification bar. I dragged down the preview.

IT WAS A RESPONSE FROM BRENNAN.



Crap. Crappity crap shit shitty crap!!

Immediate fear. Oh God. What did I do? WHAT DID I DO?!

After I stop panicking and staring at the notification, I force myself to just open the damn message already. It opens.

His response isn't cold, like I had expected. It seemed surprised, for sure, but friendly. He told me (since I suppose he assumed I didn't know) that he had a girlfriend, so as long what I had to tell him was platonic, then it was perfectly fine.

I didn't know what to make of this--I don't know if he thought I was going to send this giant declaration of love or what, but I decided to err on the side of doubt and assume he was just trying to be extra careful. (I assumed he also had told his girlfriend I had messaged him, and that was why it took him a bit to respond. Because yes, Internet. He's just that decent. And I'm a fucking idiot.)

I told him I'd already known he does, and that it was nothing like that. Then I copied and pasted my whole apology, sent it, then sent my phone down and immediately left the room to take an impromptu middle-of-the-day shower. Random, yes. But it helped calm me down and clear my head.

After I got out, feeling much calmer now that I'd gotten the apology out of the way, I picked up my phone to read his response.

He was kind, Internet. Much kinder than I ever thought I deserved.



First he said that he had never had anything against me, and that he had just figured that when I disappeared that I wasn't interested in him, considering how we had met. He also said he hadn't been upset at me for it. He also went on to say that he had no idea about struggles with anxiety, and that he wishes I had told him all this sooner if I felt so awful about it all this time.

Immensely relieved, I respond, saying I would have told him all of this sooner, but I had been positive that he probably hated me and didn't want to hear anything I had to say. Then I thanked him for accepting my apology.

He said that of course he didn't hate me, saying that was ridiculous. Then he asked if it was okay if he asked me how the anxiety affected me. He added that he really couldn't tell at all when we'd been talking, and wondered in what ways it affected me.

Before I go on, Internet, let me make something clear.

For a long time, I had wondered how he would've reacted to me telling him about my anxiety. So in this instance, I decided that it couldn't hurt to tell him finally. Anxiety contributes to the way I handle things in a very large, constantly present way. There are things that I do in my everyday life that confuse and worry people who don't know about my disorder, which is one thing I hate about it. It affects how I perceive others and how others perceive me so often, and it's frustrating.

Most of the time I'm very uncomfortable with telling people about it. In fact, I have told very, very few people about it. Not only is it a taboo to talk about mental illness for a lot of people, but many people are also unfairly prejudice and judgmental about it when they usually understand little to none about it.

Similarly, most people are flippant about things like anxiety and depression. It's written off as if it's just a 'mindset' that you can change if you just look at the world differently, when that's not the case at all. They don't understand that it's just something that happens to your brain and you can't control it.

So, all that being said: Brennan's supportive and understanding reaction was a big deal to me. A very big deal.



He continued asking respectfully about it, such as what my triggers were, and what kind of treatment I was going to start in January, since I'd mentioned it. No one, besides my closest friends, had ever been so...considerate of this before. And had talked to me about it like it mattered. Ever.

After a couple of days, as the holidays were in full swing and we got busy, the conversation faded out. And to be honest, I was glad it did. Not because I didn't like talking to him again. Not that reason at all.

It's just that after that conversation with him--about something that I had kept very deeply hidden inside me for no one else to see, for a very long time--I realized that I like Brennan.

I realized that I do like Brennan, and that I wasn't just spurned because he had gotten a girlfriend after I had ignored him. I was jealous of his girlfriend. Because I want to be his girlfriend.

I realized that Brennan is the first person I've had feelings for since R*cky B*bby.

And that, therefore, that makes this a very big deal.



So when we talked, and he spoke so kindly and sensitively to me, my heart sunk. It made me sad because I realized who I had thrown away just because I was unsure and afraid.

I know he has a girlfriend. I know that likely won't change anytime soon, because as nice as this girl seems, she would be an idiot to let go of him. But it doesn't change my feelings about him, especially since now I'm aware that they're there and I can't ignore them anymore.

I'm definitely not going to act on this, Internet. I won't do anything that would hurt him. And his girlfriend is a nice girl, and she doesn't deserve to be hurt either. I won't get between them. I'll continue staying far away, keeping my feelings completely to myself.

But if--and that's a big if--things change next year, so help me, I will make it known to Brennan that I want him.

And if--another big if--I get another chance with him, I won't throw him away again.

I know, this is horrible timing. Isn't it? But that seems to be my thing, in all honesty. I am just really, really good at having bad timing. For everything.

I'm also really good at wanting things--people, jobs, school, clothes, makeup--that I can't have. I guess I just really live for the pain of wanting and yearning. I crave that shit. Messed up, I know. But I guess it takes me truly yearning for something for me to realize how wonderful it is.



That is definitely something I need to work on in 2017.

And anyway, I don't regret apologizing to him, not at all. I'm quite relieved that I did it. I'm relieved that he knows now that I don't hate him, and that I know that he doesn't hate me, and that the air is clear. The question, now, is whether or not I can deal with what I discovered in the process of clearing the air between us. I guess we'll see with time.

Moving right along.

Speaking of 2017, here's a list of things I want to accomplish during the new year:

1. Therapy. Number one, by far. Miraculously, one good thing that happened during this horrible year was my family gaining health insurance after 8 years of not having it. As you can imagine, in 8 years, you can accumulate several health problems. But one huge thing, one thing I cannot put off any longer, is starting CBT therapy for my anxiety. It's miraculous that I've even gone this far without it, but unfortunately it's not something I can do on my own anymore. I know that I need some outside help, and now that we have insurance, it's finally within my reach to get it. 
2. Wake up earlier. I swear, this was also one of my resolutions for 2013. But you know what? It worked. For someone who loves sleep, getting up earlier in the morning really improves my mood and productivity during the day. So this is something I need to start doing again. I'm still not a morning person, and perhaps will never be, but with my new Keurig, that part might be a little easier.
3. Get knee treated. Hey, remember when I said I injured my knee last February? Well, it's still injured. In fact, it's pretty messed up. I still can't walk without my brace on at all, and my muscles in my thigh above the knee have pretty much shriveled down to nothing. In addition to all that, from walking with a limp for almost a whole year, my hips have started developing problems too. SUPER fun. So, before I get all my other numerous health problems dealt with, this is definitely number 1. I'm honestly just hoping at this point that I won't need surgery.
4. Possible online college. I know, I know. I've said a million times that I would never do online school again. But you know, at this point, I'm pretty sure this is my only option. Considering my glaring continued lack of money, and my growing knee and hip problems, going to college on a campus just isn't possible for me at this moment in time. So if I have to do school this way, then I'll do it. I've done it before, I can do it again.
5. Keep up with all of my writing works in progress. My novel for November this year was a success, as well as the new draft of one of my old stories that I worked on in July. I have lots of stories to work on next year, and I intend to dedicate as much time as I can to them. Researching, editing, revising, all that jazz. And now that I finally bit the bullet and downloaded Scrivener, I can do all that a little easier.

Labels: brennan, christmas 2016, new year, resolutions, scary stuff

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 

Labels: books, brennan, facebook problems, fear, long posts are looong, love, past stuff, ricky bobby, sarah flipping a shit but what else is new, scary stuff

Wow, internet. Where to begin?

This'll be another long one, so bear with me guys.

By the way, yes. It's me. Just me. Don't worry, I won't be writing anymore articles on here, it's just that I felt like I really had to write that, to maybe help those out there starting online school that are as totally clueless like I had been. I know I would have loved any sort of advice, or reassurance, about it.

ANYWAY. Wow. I can't believe it's taken me over a week to write this.

Tbh I think that up until now I was still so freaked out and dazed about everything, and I don't think I would have been able to collect my thoughts adequately enough. I'm still a little dazed about it, though. Sometimes when I think back on it, it just feels like a dream, sometimes vivid, sometimes fuzzier. But I haven't been able to stop thinking about it.

So. June 14th, 2012. I type it out like that because I don't think I'll forget this day for a long, long time.

The day started out oddly. I remember specifically waking up and just being cranky. This generally happens when I go to bed in the wee hours of the early morning, which I'm sure I did, because summertime and all. Even if I go to bed at like 4 but sleep until like 11 or 12, I'm still horribly cranky. I'm not sure why, but there ya go.

So, I wake up at like 12ish, I'm pissy, and maybe 15 minutes after that, my mom knocks on my door. When I answer, 'Yeah?' I'm sitting up in bed, literally still waking up and in my pajamas. And my mom, says in a loud whisper, "Jazz is here."

Now, this bewilders me. Not only because to me, it's still the morning, but also because the last time I saw Jazz, it was at her graduation.

Let me tell you, it was weird going to my old school's graduation. I think that was my final realization that it really was my old school. I looked at that graduating class, saw some kids that I'd know since I was four or five years old, and realized that I wasn't graduating with them.
Up until then, I'd always called it 'my old school' and acknowledged that it was something not in my life anymore, but I think a small part of me (even if it was the most microscopic of the microscopic) still actually believed that I still belonged there. I mean, the friends I met there are basically still my social circle. And like I said, some of those people I've known since I was a really tiny person, like Best Friend Rose, so it's almost as if...as if I've never known anything else. My whole life growing up was that school.


For public schools, it's different. You go to a public elementary school for 5-6 years (if you don't switch schools all the time), and then you leave. And then you go to a public middle school for 3 years, and again, if you don't switch schools, you go to school with those people for 3 years. And then you leave. And then same goes for the 4 years of high school. But for me, from when I was 4 years old to when I left at 16, that place...was my entire childhood. 
And I think I'd had such a hard time letting go of that place because it was like letting go of my childhood, and letting go of all the memories I'd had there. My life revolved around that place for so long that part of me still felt attached.

But when I saw my fellow classmates graduate, it's like that door finally closed. Seeing that they were all graduating, all the kids I grew up with, and moving on from that school, I could finally let go. It's like the attachment that I had to that place has released.

Surprisingly, I didn't cry. I thought if there was any graduation I cried rivers at (besides my own, lol) it would be Best Friend Rosie's and Jazz's and all my old classmates. But I didn't. Not at all. Not even afterwards. Instead I almost just felt this...relief. It sounds awful, I know. And hell, I didn't even go there anymore, so it shouldn't have mattered anyway. But I was relieved, and I didn't know if it was more for me or for them. But one thing I know I was relieved about was this: although there were the select few kids still going there that I'd gone to elementary school with, the rest, I couldn't wait to never see them again. Which is normal to feel, I'm sure. Because as much as I'd liked some of the people that went there, others I couldn't wait to get away from. Adios, bitches. See you at the 20 year reunion.

ANYWAY, THAT WASN'T EVEN MY POINT. June 14th, right. Lol. Sorry!

My point was that when I saw Jazz at her graduation, it was...awkward at best. Considering before that, the last time we talked was before my birthday, which I was kinda upset about because she had not even wished me a happy birthday. Not once. Not even a birthday text. So that whole time we hadn't talked, even though I'd tried to text her. I thought I'd done something to piss her off, BUT, as it turned out, she'd been texting my old number for the whole two months we hadn't talked, and though that I was mad at her. Purely a mis-communication.

So, after mom told me to hurry up and get ready because I had a guest downstairs, she shut the door and left me to scurry around my room, flustered and confused because I hate it when people show up unannounced and I was also still trying to remember my own name. Eventually I figured out how to put some sweats on and I ventured downstairs, a bit wary. When I came into the living room, though, immediately Jazz explained to me what happened with the texting thing, also adding that she'd dropped her phone in the toilet and lost half of her contact information, which explains why she was texting my old number.

So after that I was less wary, but still cranky, which is why when Jazz asked if I wanted to go out for lunch, I almost immediately turned it down. Jazz asked why not, and I really couldn't come up with more of an excuse other than 'because I just woke up' and 'because I look like crap'. Jazz countered all of my excuses, and then my mom joined in, making it two against one and clearly I lost.

I went upstairs to shower after that, put together the cutest outfit I could for the weather (it was blazing hot, but I hadn't shaved my legs, haha. So white jeans it was!) and put my wet hair in a ponytail and put mascara on and sucked it up as we left the house and got into Jazz's car.

I was still pretty prickly as we drove away, but then as we talked and as we pulled into the Panda Express parking lot, I was feeling a little brighter. We walked into the restaurant (and this random guy said hi to us from his car for some reason, idk.) and got some food, and then I was in a much better mood.

We talked about a lot of stuff, basically just catching up on everything we'd missed the past few months, and when she asked how I'd been doing, I decided to just be honest and come clean about everything I'd been feeling and going through the past few months, and I mean everything. Like everything I've been whining about on here for months, lol. And then out of nowhere, we started talking about Rosie, and for some reason I started crying. In the middle of Panda Express. Yeah. Super embarrassing. But Jazz just sat patiently and understandingly, not embarrassed in the slightest. (But what we talked about, I'll save for another entry.)

So after I thoroughly embarrassed myself, and hardly ate any of my food, I got a takeaway box and we decided to go head to the bookstore to look around. After getting in the car, though, Jazz asked if I liked eclairs. I told her I had never had one, and she asked if I wanted to go by the bakery and try one. (But secretly, I know this is mostly just a ploy to get me to meet her boyfriend. I've seen her so little lately, he hasn't even come up on here, but they've been dating for a few months now. Online school kid like me, and he had gone to my old school before switching to online school. But I'd never actually met him before, since he went to my old school after I'd already left. She's been wanting me to meet him for a good while now, so I pretty much saw this coming, haha.) So I say sure, because who in their right mind would turn down a fresh pastry? NOT THIS GIRL.

So we head over to this place, and it's a cute little locally owned Dutch bakery, and as soon as you walk in you're greeted by 3 little table and chair sets and the smell of baking sweets. Super cute. And then while we're waiting while a couple ahead of us orders what they want, Jazz and I looked at everything they have. There's the desserts, of course, but then they have a bunch of Dutch and German candy and snacks, too. Did I mention I want to go back there? Because I do. Badly.

Then a guy who I assume to be her boyfriend, Dan*, comes out, and she greets him cheerfully. They exchange some cute couple-y banter, and then Jazz introduces us. He was slightly reserved, and tall, but seems very nice. It's not hard to see why Jazz would like this guy so much.

After all that, Jazz asks for an eclair, and I actually go for the tiramasu. (I know I know, I copped out. But I LOVE TIRAMASU.) Then I also get two candy necklaces, because they're fifty cents each. I pay for both of our stuff, and after taking to Dan some more, we eat our desserts. My tiramasu was made in heaven and then fell through the clouds and down to Earth. I swear. That stuff was unearthly. And when Jazz couldn't finish the last bite of her eclair, I ate it, and it was pretty dang good too. (A little bit too rich for my taste, though. But still good.)

So after finishing, and saying bye to Dan, we head over to Barnes and Noble. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately for my wallet, I'd spent all of my money at the bakery (though to be fair I didn't have that much on me in the first place), so I couldn't buy anything while we were there. Because, hoo boy. Trust me. Did I want to buy things. I haven't been to the bookstore since my birthday (Yes! You heard right! Since my birthday. Don't know how I've survived this long tbh.) and I've accumulated quite a long 'to buy' book list. I almost had to physically restrain myself from stuffing books down my shirt and making a run for the doors, lol.

While we were there, my dad called to ask me what I wanted for dinner from the place that my mom and dad were eating for their anniversary (yeah, incidentally this was their anniversary, too. 31st anniversary. My heroes.) and I told him as quietly as I could because people were glaring at me because apparently answering phone calls in Barnes and Noble is against the law. So yeah, they'd order for me and just bring it home in a box for me. Outback Steakhouse. (It was delicious, btw.)

So when we were done at Barnes and Noble, and Jazz got a Father's Day gift for her dad, as well as a book I've been wanting for a good while (which I told her that she HAD to let me borrow asap!). And then we got back in the car, getting ready to head back to Jazz's house, where my parents would pick me up.

I remember the drive back to her house very vividly. As we were leaving the Barnes and Noble parking lot, I very specifically remember saying, "This was a nice day, wasn't it? This was fun." and then Jazz agreeing with me enthusiastically, and then we both agreed to do it more often. A few songs came on the radio that we liked, and we turned it up louder and obnoxiously sang along, and as we sang it began to rain, and we pointed out each raindrop as it fell on the windshield, because we're 10 year olds.

Then.

We were driving down a very busy main road, and it was oddly backed up for a good while. We wondered why until we saw a few police cars and an ambulance stopped by a stalled car. I also remember Jazz very specifically saying, "Do you think they hit a pedestrian?" while we gazed out the windows at it.

"I don't know," I said, staring. I couldn't see anyone hurt.

"That's what it looks like to me," said Jazz. "Like they hit a pedestrian."

Maybe 2 minutes later, it happened. We were literally 3 minutes from Jazz house, but still on the main road. Cars were still backed up, so we were going slightly slower than usual, and Jazz decides to get into the turning lane. We're going normal speed now, maybe 5 to 6 mph under the speed limit.

In not even two blinks, it happens.

For a split second I see this man darting through the cars in the lane next to ours. And then he LEAPS IN FRONT OF OUR CAR.

It seriously happens before I can process what's happening, and even when I think on it now, I only remember certain details.

I remember Jazz slamming on the breaks, but the immediate thought in my mind that we were going too fast and we wouldn't stop fast enough to avoid him.

I remember covering my eyes with my hands because I knew it wasn't going to turn out well.

I remember hearing him hit the car and crashing into the windshield, and the deafening sound of breaking glass.

I remember Jazz screaming loudly and then hearing myself screaming too, although I don't remember even stopping to think to scream. It's like it just tore out of me automatically, as a basic primal response, because I've literally never been so scared in my life and for a few seconds I genuinely thought, "What if I die right now?"

It was all over in a few seconds, but it felt like hours. For a moment or two Jazz and I just sat there going, "Oh my god, oh my god."

Then Jazz shouts, "Is he okay??"

And I shake my head and somehow say, "Go check, go check!" And I say somehow because at that moment I was in a huge daze, and I don't even know how I managed to formulate that response.

So Jazz jumps from her seat and throws the door open and then spins around and yells, "Call 911!" And it takes me a second to realize that she's talking to me, because I've never been in a situation where I've had to call 911 before. So after she gets out, I just sit there for another few moments before realizing that I need to take out my phone now and call 911.

I rummage through my purse for a good thirty seconds, almost panicking that I'd somehow lost my phone between then and Barnes and Noble, but I find it and then curse under my breath when I realize that the battery is low. I unlock the screen and stare at it some more, forgetting how it works all of a sudden, and then I remember and figure out how to dial the numbers with shaking hands. Then I forget to hit the talk button after dialing. And then I realize I've been sitting in the car this whole time, and I'm suddenly scared shitless of this car and I jump out of it and slam the door, almost not remembering to stay away from the traffic speeding by mere feet away from the car door.

(After telling my parents about this later, my mom tells me I was in shock, but I really just felt like an idiot. We hit a man with our car, for all I knew his life DEPENDED on me, and I couldn't remember how to use my phone to call 911.)

I walk to the other side of the car where I see Jazz knelt next to the man, who's laying down on the concrete median and bleeding from his head, and there are at least five or six other people there gathered around them both looking concerned. There was also other people stopped in their cars and looking on gape-mouthed in the lane next to ours and on the other side of the median. I briefly notice other random details--one of the guy's shoes right in front of me on the ground, along with his broken sunglasses, his other shoe a good fifteen feet away, and a chunk of his long hair stuck on the jagged edges of the windshield.

Meanwhile I was still trying to figure out how my phone worked. Eventually I successfully dialed it, and it was ringing, but by now there were 3 other people around me, including Jazz, that were on the line with operators already, and the line just kept ringing and ringing and because I wasn't in my right mind I got frustrated and hung up before anybody answered. Not smart, I know. Because in the following hour they kept trying to call me back, but I ignored all their calls. Also stupid. But I felt so worthless at that moment because it had taken me so long and Jazz was counting on me and I'd failed. And I also had the irrational fear that when they did pick up, I would have no clue what to say, because I couldn't think straight. Still pretty disappointed in myself for this, honestly. But I was just so freaked out.

So everyone was standing around the guy and he was groaning in pain(we found out later that he's my age, 19 years old), and there were two men, one in an Air Force uniform and one in a dress shirt and pants (business man?) stabilizing him and talking to him until the paramedics got there. Among the others there was a woman, and younger boy, maybe 13 or so, that looked like her son, and then another man that I can't even remember the face of. Again, they were all gathered around him, along with Jazz, and I was literally standing six feet away with my hands covering my mouth, frozen.

I swear I didn't do this on purpose, or consciously, it was just like I couldn't even make myself move. Adrenaline was still rushing through me and my heart was pounding and I was so scared. For him, for what just happened, and in general. I don't think I've been this scared in my life.

Police came much quicker than I'd expected, but they had literally been just yards away at the other accident, so I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised. Then after the police came, the firemen and ambulance came all at once, only I don't even remember hearing their sirens coming, it was like they just appeared. I think it was around this time when it finally hit me and Jazz, because Jazz started to freak out. Up until then, she'd been surprisingly calm and collected and had handled it really well, but then she started to cry and hyperventilate. All I could do was try to soothe her and give her lots of hugs, and actually the other people there were trying to comfort her too, all telling her there was no way she could have seen him, even though they were complete strangers.

I told her I'd call her dad for her because she couldn't bring herself to do it, and suddenly I could remember how to use my phone again, and I was the calm one. It took a few numbers, but I got a hold of him and told him in the calmest voice I could manage that we'd been in an accident and that the other person was hurt, but we were both home. Thankfully, he was home at the time, and it took him five minutes to get there. After he got there and began comforting Jazz, I called my dad, and told him that me and Jazz would be a little late getting to her house because something happened, but that we were both okay and not to worry.

I didn't tell him right off the bat that I'd been in an accident because I know them so well and I KNOW they would have been worried sick and would have dropped everything to get to me, anniversary or not, but I would have felt awful for scaring them like that, especially after such a nice anniversary dinner. I figured it would just be better to tell them in person so that they could see that I was fine, that Jazz was fine, and that everything was okay. (They thanked me for this later, because my dad said, as I'd predicted, that they would have really freaked out if I told them over the phone.)

Everything else after that happened in a blur. The paramedics took the guy away in an ambulance, and then most of the other people left except for the mother and her son. (I wish I'd gotten the chance to thank the others, though, they were so nice to us.) A very handsome fireman asked us some questions (not even exaggerating. He looked like a model posing in a firemen costume in a calendar, not like an actual fireman.), and then a policeman asked us some questions after that. Another few firemen took Jazz's blood pressure, and then Jazz's brother and his wife showed up. After that, we filled out some forms, and the policeman took some measurements of the scene, and the firemen left while waving at us. Then the mom and her son left after  filling out witness forms, giving us both kind words of encouragement. And then it was all over, and then we left to Jazz's house.

Me and Jazz and Jazz's sister in law all rode in Jazz's dad's car, while her brother drove her car. Needless to say, when my parents saw Jazz's car drive up with a shattered windshield, they were shocked, but I explained everything right away so they didn't have time to freak out.

Since then, we've found out that the guy we hit is fine. Just got a deep cut on the back of his head and some bruises on his legs, which is actually a miracle, because he could be dead right now. I'm still amazed at this. It could have been so much worse. As soon as we'd hit him, I was sure he'd be dead, but he isn't, and with no broken bones to top it all off. You don't see that everyday, and I'm really so glad he's okay. (Also, weird fact--this guy named Brad* that Jazz and I went to school with and were in a band with very briefly, he has his own band now, and this kid--this kid that we hit--is the bassist in his band. I KNOW. What are the odds? Small world, really small world.)

Looking back, I still can't believe it happened. It was probably the scariest thing that I've ever been though. But, in a weird sort of way, I'm glad I went through it. Because that was first ever car accident, and it was Jazz's first car accident since getting her license. And I'm glad we were there for each other for this.

You know, before this day, I was unsure about where our friendship was going, and I was positive that we'd never be as close as we were before. But after June 14th, I'm sure of it: we'll be friends for life. I think this day was a sign that of that, and this whole thing made us even closer than before.

Also in a weird sort of way, I think it was fate. It sounds crazy, I know, but I mean, think about it. What if we had stayed in Barnes and Noble longer? What if we'd never gone to the bakery? What if we'd just stopped at Panda Express and then I went back home? Where would our friendship be? Would it be exactly like it had been before all of this happened?

Maybe it was a coincidence, but it was just the coincidence that our friendship needed. Despite all the crap we'd gone through our senior year, I for sure know it now: Jazz and I are meant to be friends.

And this is going to sound so screwed up and weird, so let me try and say this in the best way possible: Even this accident was awful, and I'll probably never see a pedestrian run across a busy street again without freaking out, also in a way, I'm glad it happened. Because it was my reality check.

For me it was just another reminder of how unpredictable life can be, and how quickly it can change, and why that's why I can't live my life waiting around anymore. (A.k.a., the past three school years.) If I sit around waiting for things to happen, I end up sitting around and wasting my time, time I could have used doing something great. This sounds dramatic, but I've had to consider this: What if that accident had been much worse? What if everyone involved had been seriously injured, or worse? We're lucky that Jazz and I weren't, not to mention there was not a scratch on us. And even luckier that the guy wasn't seriously injured, or even dead.

It's a privilege for all of us to be alive right now. If I had gone having lived my life they way it's been......

I can't even finish that sentence. The thought itself horrifies me.

No more waiting.


No more being afraid to try.


No more living in my room day after day. 


I'm so tired of this. It's time to change. It's time to live.

For a few days after this had happened, I was still freaked out, and I was super sore, so I took it easy for a few days and got my rest. But now I'm okay.
I was mostly concerned about Jazz, considering she was the one driving, and considering her past and all (for  the record, her mom died in a car accident when she was 11) I was worried about how she'd take it, and for a while she was pretty upset, but I think she's doing all right, now. As far as I know, anyway. But I'm still worried, not gonna lie. Jazz tends to bottle things up when something's bothering her, so maybe I'll see when I see her in person next.

In the meantime, it's taking smaller steps to change for me. We found a great house, and it looks like that's the one we'll be moving to. We need to be out of this house by next Sunday, so this'll be the last week in this house. I'm excited about the new house, but I'm also still pretty sad about leaving this one.

I just need to cherish my last days in this house as best I can.

xo Hopeless Romantic 

Labels: jazz, life, scary stuff, summer

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