"What are you, fuckin' new?"

The atmosphere pushes film music to the ends of my brain. I want to people watch. I want to nod my head to the music. I want to think about the rain outside, which makes me think about the most irrational scenarios involving the man of my dreams.

I came here with people, but they've set themselves to studying together...on the opposite side of the room. But that's okay, I'm left alone to my thoughts, which weave in and out to make an extensive unrealistic, but enjoyable nonetheless, daydream.

My cafe mocha flies down my throat, warming my insides that flutter like butterflies, and churns like uneasy prey.

And is there any reason as to why this one guy is taking up a whole fucking couch?

"Um, this is a chips and cheese conversation, nach-os!"

The rain is coming down cats and dogs-or lions and wolves-in a small French town. A girl, just out of college, is waiting for her ride. Her bag is getting soaked due to the lack of shelter in the area. "Great, that's all I need; a soggy laptop and an unreliable roommate," she thought to herself. If she were to come by shelter anywhere near where she was supposed to be picked up, it'd be considered trespassing. The small house behind her did look unoccupied at the moment though. Trespassing it is! The girl ran to the porch of this little, yellow chateau. She sat upon a bench, which was once probably completely white, but the paint had been chipping. Either the bench was meant to rock back and forth, or it was broken. Most likely the latter, but it was still fun. It creaked loudly as she swung. It kind of played the tune of a classic song she loved to sing. The girl looked left, right, then left again to make sure no one would hear her. She began to sing the song, backup brought to you by an old, creaky bench. The song was nothing but a whisper for a few seconds, but her courage-or stupidity-made her sing louder. After a few moments, she was belting at the top of her lungs, until...

My grandfather just turned eighty-six! I miss him. He lives in Montana.

...the door of the silent house opened slowly, but it creaked just as much as the bench. A white face peered through the doorway. "Can I help you?" The man asked.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry...I didn't think anyone was here...it's raining so hard...my laptop..."

"It's fine. You could have tried knocking first though." She looked down and blushed. To interrupt the silent embarrassment, he asked her, "are you waiting for someone?"

"Yeah, my roommate. She was supposed to pick me up an hour ago. Probably held up at work. She should be here any moment, I'm really sorry."

"It's fine. Do you...want to come in?"

Sometimes, new situations arise that give you a feeling. This feeling-your intuition-might tell you, "Avoid at all costs! Get away!" But this wasn't the case and thank God. Her flats were too soaked, the roads were slippery, and she's not fast to begin with. Not to mention her heavy bag weighing down her shoulder. She'd have no choice but to drop it, and the asshole would get a brand new laptop. Good thing he seems trust-worthy....

I don't feel like finishing this daydream, I just got a phone call. Since it is my daydream, rest assured that it ends happy.

Life isn't like a box of chocolates.

A box of chocolates comes with a sheet of wax paper, and on it, the labels of each chocolate morsel you could slip into your mouth. Life comes with no such paper, and we beings have no idea what could possibly be handed to us. We can go on, believing something to be true, and then life shakes us, and we're forced to change. And if it's not a shake, it's a slap of realization that either stings, or gets you running like a racehorse.

With every moment of pain felt by each individual comes this notion of change. With every acceptance felt by a very, patient human comes this immediate contentment. It is said that humans only change when they feel pain, but my change is different. I'll never do things by the book, and this case isn't any different.

I once felt pain, but I didn't change. I hung on with this silly optimism. I hung on so long, the pain turned into a cold numbness. I thought, "what will be, will be," and I waited. What I should have done was accepted the pain, and let go.

And that was it. It was so simple...for me, at least. I'm sorry that you have this life lesson of "not taking those you love for granted" to handle. You'll always be my friend and I love you, but I know now that you're not the one. But, shit, life's told me I've been wrong before. I'm not going to hang on though. Everything is fleeting and ever-changing, so I can't hold on. We have no choice but to let go.

Life can make you believe that you're at the start of where your meant to be, that you are absolutely right. Then it pulls the ground out from underneath your feet. You fall, and my God, it's so confusing. The acceptance of this confusion is the moment the chains disappear.

Life told me I was wrong. Life told me to let go. It keeps telling me about these things called patience and acceptance. And I didn't come to this planet with a piece of paper attached to me saying this. We're all just blind idiots, being guided by feelings we believe to be true. I have to remember that feelings aren't truth. So the feelings inside of me will fester and drive me insane...until I let go.

Goodbye ropes, chains, handcuffs, and everything that ties me to something that might have been "true" yesterday (John Denver literally just sang that as I was typing. Perfect, right?). The song is called "Sweet Surrender". Another song that comes to mind is "It'll All Work Out" by Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers. It's about this guy that was promised to a girl, but he has to let her go because someone else can love her more (Perfect, right?)

Right. It'll all work out. Let go.

My mom's making me go get her Baker's again...

Once in Awhile, True Beauty Comes Along: A Sequel Dedication to Real Friends

And this true beauty is in the form of a friend. A best friend. There is nothing sweeter than knowing I have someone there walking along this path called Life.

There is also nothing more bitter-tasting than finding a "friend" has let me down.

And, we're human! Humans cannot be perfect and it is no one's job to keep me happy but my own. Over the years, I should learn not to depend on others so much, and I've done really well with that concept! Rarely do I ever let myself call someone a best friend, because in my experience, I cannot rely on anyone.

Is authenticity slipping through the cracks just like the act of taking responsibility? It's fucking contradictory to want so much for someone to like us that we let others down. It's the reason for shit talk, which is the reason for terminated friendships.

Oh, and hey! Let's all be unreliable! No one likes a loyal friend, right? Please make plans with me and then bail! I love it when we do that. I love it when we can't be fucking honest and say, "No." I actually prefer a "maybe" so that I can have hope, only to be shit on by an inability to be courageous. See? There's that "wanting someone to like you but letting someone else down in the process" act. Or it's just being selfish. Take your pick, friend.

This is so trivial, but after a number of times, it wears me like a wave to a mountain. It's possible that I hold friendship to high in regard. Is it not important to you? Are you okay with being swallowed by the sea when you're a fucking mountain?

Once in awhile, true beauty comes along in the from of a friend. Then, it shits on you. A true friend, a best friend is honest about their shit.

Thank you, Jenna for being a mountain with me. Thank you for your honesty. Thank you for your reliability in my time of need. Thanks for celebrating my second decade of life! Thanks for the simple tasks you perform like texting me back. Thank you for the more difficult tasks you preform like helping a hurting friend. Thanks for understanding. Thanks for the sense of humor! Thanks for the real inspiration I can get no where else. Thanks for the education on life, false sugar, and music. Thanks for the best tea ever and being similar sizes, so we can share clothes! You're the simple definition of a friend, and more than that, a best friend. People can really learn from you...

Last but not least, here's to the other true friends. You know who you are because you're not the above listed "friend". I enjoy making the effort to being the best friend I can be for you.

And now my mom's making me buy her Bakers.

Words Stuck in Mud...

I'm not sure why I can't ever tell you how I feel. What is it inside of me that speeds up my irrational thoughts, and slows my mouth from speaking? Perhaps it's the distance between us... but MAYBE we're closer than I think. Perhaps my worse-case scenarios aren't far off. Perhaps it's that large wall that barricades all of your thoughts, emotions, and ultimately words. Perhaps, I'm way too fond of the chase. Lord knows I always battle that.

And why can't you tell me? We can start off by discussing what's changed over the divine broccoli cheddar soup from Panera, and then eventually, where we stand. Sound good? Oh, you have to read? That's okay, I need to muster the necessary courage. Maybe another time then.

Here it is, in my blog, where you won't come across it: I want to hang out with you. I want to text you. I want to call you. I want you to take me to Lucille's. I want to take you [against your will] to Disneyland. I want to sing to you!? I want you to teach me guitar. I want to hold your hand. I want to kiss your cheek. I want to rest my head on your chest. I want you to tell me about sexual relations in the 1960's, and the gender issues that really make your head spin. I want you to know that there is absolutely no one like you.

What changed? Was it something I did or said? Is it a change within you? Am I not the girl you thought I was? Do you not like me anymore? Am I way too much 99% of the time? Is it your anti-love theories? Are you scared? Because I understand that!

All I know is that someone has to say something.