Ghosts

There’s so little that I really know. I don’t know who I am anymore. I feel like the ghost of a total stranger. There are things I want to ask, things I want to share, things I want to know are true beyond a shadow of a doubt.

But I think I’m finally starting to understand that maybe I’m not supposed to ask, share, or know those things yet. Maybe I am the ghost of a stranger - the person I used to be. Who I was and who I am are such opposite people that when I look back on everything that has happened in the past two years, my head starts to spin. And I start to imagine what might have happened to me if I hadn’t changed. Maybe I’d be happier. Maybe I’d be more stable. Maybe I’d have more friends. Maybe I’d be more confident. Maybe I’d make better decisions. I don’t know.

But I think that’s one of life’s greatest moments. When you realize that every small decision you make is a big decision. The decision to stop being friends with someone. Or which college you’ll go to. Or if you’ll go home for that one weekend. Or if you’ll work at this place or that. We all make decisions like that. And those decisions plant the path ahead.

I can’t see very far down the path that I’m walking, but I can see the twists and the turns. And although I’m terrified that one twist may land me back to the start or that one turn may be too sharp, I’m also ecstatic that I have a path in the first place.

And I just hope my life turns out to be one hell of an adventure.

Teenage Girl Drama

Y'all. I am so in love. I’m in love with someone I know deep in my heart will never love me back. I may be “better” than him in some of the ways that matter - I’m more responsible, smarter, hard-working. But he is fucking gorgeous. And, yeah, we’re friends. But how long is that going to last? Until school lets out? Until one of us gets a significant other? Until one of us finally admits that we like each other?

And that’s the thing - I know that he likes me. At least a little bit. At least I know he’s not totally repulsed by me.

See, the thing that blows is that the first guy that liked me slipped through my fingers. Another liked me but he had a girlfriend. Another one liked me but I couldn’t bring myself to care for him the same way. The last liked me and I just kept being a bitch to him until he got over it and decided that I wasn’t worth the trouble.

And all that I dealt with when I had to. Yeah, the first took a little more time. But I got over when the time came for me to take my head out of the sand and face facts - I missed my window of opportunity.

But this guy. This fucking guy. I like him so much, he’s all I think about. He is who I want to spend my day with. He’s the guy I want to watch football with and show him my paintings and my writing and cook for. He makes me want to do the things I enjoy because a part of me just knows he’d enjoy them too.

But I’m a fucking coward. And I know that. I know that I’ll never have the courage to just invite him over for a blunt or ask him to see a movie with me. I’m a coward.

With the right hair and make-up, I’m okay. A solid six, at least. But I do this all the time and I know we’re all guilty of it: when we see couples out in public, we automatically judge them for the way we look together.

And when I tall, big girl like me walks in with a 6’3” man that looks like God took his time on him, people are going to wonder how a girl like me snagged a man like him.

And that’s the thing. I don’t want to snag him. I’m sick of snagging guys. I want a guy to snag me. I want a man to wake up to my face every morning and think, “Man, I’m lucky I found her.” I don’t want them to roll over thinking, “Eh, she’ll do.”

I don't want a relationship that I have to settle for. And I don't want a huge Nicholas Sparks romance either simply because I don't think that it's plausible.

But what I do think is plausible is finding a guy that likes me for me and I'll like him for him. People find a person they fit with all the time. I can't remember the last time I got butterflies with a guy. The last time the sight of that one person sent my heart into overdrive. The last time I stayed up all night thinking about that one guy, hoping he's thinking of me too.

But this one, this one I could imagine the whole nine with. The whole meeting the parents, cooking him dinner, American dream kind of love. And I want it so badly.

But there's a part of me that just knows it will never happen. And that's okay - that's fine. I just have to convince myself that I'm worth that kind of love before I get into the business of trying to convince anyone else.

Romanticizing

I really thought college was for me. Over a year ago, two summers ago, before college, man, that seems like a lifetime ago.

College is supposed to be the best four years of your life. And, don't get me wrong, they're alright. The freedom is nice, the change of scenery is cool, and I love my job. There are plenty of things that I've been blessed with since I dropped everything in my hometown and went to the capital of the state three hours away. And the fact that I know I should be happy, I should feel blessed, I should have the sun shining out of my ass, it makes me feel worse. Because I'm not always happy and I don't always feel blessed and I certainly don't have the sun shining out of my ass.

But I'm here. And I'm trying to make the conscious decision to just be happy. But I'm fucking not. I should be. All signs point to happiness and I can't fucking grasp it.

Why? What's so terrible in my life that I can't hold on to that feeling? Nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing.

But it seems lately that I can't drag myself out of bed. I spend my time dreaming about being home in my own bed with my own friends and just watching football with my mom. Those dreams make me yearn for what I can't have anymore. And that's the comfort of knowing that the time I have to leave home is far away enough that I shouldn't worry about it. Well, time caught up with me. And it's here to bite me in the ass.

I think about that moment; the one where I was putting all my shit in boxes and hoisting them off to my car with a shit-eating grin on my face, ready to start my own adventure.  The adventure turned to purgatory.

Maybe I romanticized the idea of college. I thought it would be some lavish, unreachable goal that I had somehow managed to earn and I would be rewarded with mind-blowing new friends and adventures I would spend the next few decade telling stories about.

I have a few stories that I would tell over and over again because they were great times with great people. But when I tell those stories, it's like I'm telling them from a third-party perspective. Like those stories were something I conjured up in my head. Or I story I read somewhere that I pictured myself in the midst of.

There are very few people in this world that I can count on. People that I know I could send an "S.O.S." text to and can expect my phone to ring a second later. And the thing is that I rely on those people. I expect them to never leave my side and be there for me until the day that I no longer need them. And in my mind, I know on some level that that's what will happen.

But in my heart, I know that's not the case. Yes, those people love me. They would do pretty much anything I needed them to do as long as I ask. But I'm not their first choice.  I'm not the person that they sit around at a party or a hookah bar or a bonfire and think, "Man, this would be so much more fun if Isa was here." No, I'm not that person.

Sure, they love me. Because it's convenient for them to love me at this moment.

But what if it wasn't. What if I moved out of state? Would I move out of mind? What if I dropped them completely? Would they miss me? Or would I just play a small role in a little anecdote they told at a dinner party a decade from now?

I like to believe the best in people because I truly believe that every person strives to be the best version they can of themselves. But, I could be wrong.

There are times that I look in the mirror and I don't like what I see. But I don't try very hard to change the person staring back at me. I no longer possess the motivation to seek the better person in me. I'm sure I'm not the only one. Giving people the benefit of the doubt is what I like to do. But maybe I'm just romanticizing the idea of the human ability to be different, be better.

Silhouette

And your friends
are they dangerous?
And if they are
then how much?
And your friends
are the glamorous?
And if they are
I've lost interest.

Silhouette, loose sundress
low sunset, baby.
Desert heat
come with me
just one drink.
Thirsty?
This city ain't safe at sundown.

I can't describe the feeling that this song brings me.

Everyone has one of those songs. The song that you listen to when you want to be transported to a easier, simpler time. This was one of the only songs I listened to the spring break of my freshman year in college. That was one of the greatest weeks of my life.

When I listen to this song, I go back in time. I live my life in this song for just a few minutes.

This song is more than a song. It's a soundtrack. It's the sound of the waves crashing on the beach right outside my window. It's inhaling the smoke of a much-needed cigarette on a balcony. It's a lukewarm cup of coffee at eleven in the morning when I finally get my lazy ass out of bed.  It's the laughter of my best friends on four hour car rides. It's the breeze through my hair because it's finally warm enough to drive with the windows down.  This song is my own little piece of heaven. My own little piece of mind.

When I'm going out of my mind wondering what's next or who's next or where I am, I play this song and I remember. I remember that what or who is next isn't all that important. I remember that I am on this Earth and no matter where on this Earth I am, I have the power to be happy.

There are always going to be people on the planet that grind my gears. There are always going to be situations that I wish I didn't have to go through. There are always going to be doubts. There is always going to be that little voice in the back of my head telling me that maybe I'm not good enough for anyone or anything.

But there is also always going to be this damn song.

And when I find myself in the company of those people or in those situations, when I have those doubts and that insecurity to worsen it, I will come back to this song. I will listen to it and it will cleanse me. That doubt and insecurity will flood my system and I will be who I am once again. A better person than I was a moment before because I have grounded myself.

Here at school, I am not grounded. I am not myself. I lose myself when I am here. I feel like the ghost of a total stranger. And it's not fucking fair. I want to be who I am. I want to be the person everyone thinks I am. The friendly girl with the optimistic lifestyle and cynical jokes. And to an extent, that is who I am. But that's not all of it.

I'm a liar. I'm judgmental. I can hold a grudge like nobody's business. I'm fake as fuck. I'm more of a bitch than I think anyone will ever know. And I hate it, but that's who I am.  I'll talk behind your back and smile to your face. And it's so fucking fucked up. I wish I wasn't like that but I don't know how to change. I want to go forward up this hill but I'm stuck in reverse and I can't shift gears. But I want to. You have no idea how badly I want to. And maybe that's the first step.

And maybe holding on to the feeling I get when I hear this song will help. I just hope it doesn't slip through my fingers.