it's hard not to look at my fingers and not long to have yours laced between them.
it's hard not to tuck my hair behind my ears and not think of how you always try to and fail.
it's hard not to lay in bed and wish you were there with me.
it's hard to think about you and not be able to hear your voice.
it's hard not to miss you even though it's only been a day.
it's hard not to feel this way when you're 1,034 miles away.

i don't wanna feel like this again. i don't want another 862.6 dreadful units of measurement fucking things up again. i shouldn't be scared but i have a good feeling everything is gonna get messed up all over. and i can't do a single damn thing about it.

i love you..

growing up

-the realization that life isn't all about you.

i guess it takes a while. i mean, i always knew it wasn't about me. there's seven billion or some shit people in the world who all have different feelings and thoughts and dreams and they're not all gonna stop to serve me what i want. that's always been obvious to me. i'm not the most important thing. but it was always like my life was a movie, a movie in which i was the protagonist and those i despised were the antagonists, and i wanted to destroy them.

everyone i met, i wanted to play them into my game, to persuade them to my side, to hate my nemesis. i gave them a million reasons, from tangible gifts to just being a good friend. i lied, even cried. and it worked. it worked for so long and everyone loved me, called me an inspiration or some other bullshit. but it never meant anything to me. and i could never figure out why.

but now i think i know. because everything i did was crafted by my own hands, nothing they said made me feel like i had done anything right. because all i had done was manipulate them into saying what i thought to begin with. i painted myself as the protagonist and wrote other characters in to follow the plot that *i* wanted. i probably should have guessed that it wouldn't work.

sitting on the bus on the way home, when i wasn't sleeping, i realized it's not a movie. life isn't some stupid fucking fairytale, with princesses and dragons and knights in shining armor riding atop white stallions. there's no exposition, no rising action, no climax, no resolution. oh god, that's the absolute worst. no fucking resolution. it's a fucking rollercoaster and just when you think everything is gonna be okay something suddenly falls apart. your best friend leaves, your extracurriculars drive you insane, or depression threatens to drag you back down again, back into the deep dark hole you've been trying to evade for so long.

defeat is imminent and you can feel it. and you're scared. you're more scared than you've ever been. but what difference does it make if you fall? everyone will just walk past you. they'll kick you in the sides and dirt in your face. spit on you. and not even think twice about you. but what about the people who need you? what about the people who have depended on you so long and you've suddenly disappeared?

what are you supposed to do then?

i haven't posted

in so fucking long.

but you know when there's this sort of like, unspoken connection between two people, and there are no words for it? i'm not in love, i know that. but i feel really, really close to you. and it's probably the best thing i could have right about now.

Valentino

So I was riding my horse just last week and my trainer was talking to me about what he needed. Valentino has a tendency to bolt, or just push himself a little too hard when he doesn't need to. He's a very uptight horse and he doesn't have much of a head (but I still love him ok). It's not the most convenient thing at all, but he does run fast and that's a plus. However, if I can't control him, he's gonna sour pretty quickly.

While walking for a moment, my trainer Christian told me about Valentino. I received my horse from the stables I take the lessons at, so they were the ones who trained him. She told me that when they first started working with him, they couldn't get him to move. No matter what they tried, he was just a slowpoke, which baffled me. I cannot imagine my horse being slow. They sent him to a trainer because they were just having too much trouble with him and they had a business to run.

The two men training Valentino were supposed to keep him after they'd worked with him, but they sent him back after a while. Why? Well, to get him to go, they'd pushed him really hard, and focused on getting him to burst out of the gate, because he was trained as a roping horse. Apparently they discovered that my little man runs fast, so instead of rating him (keeping him slow), they rode up on his neck with a short rein, fighting him. So Valentino got used to being ridden like that, with a short rein, always being fought, even though they still wanted him to go fast.

When he came back to the stables, they rode him for a while, but eventually put him up for sale and to pasture. He can't be used as a lesson horse because of how touchy he is now, but there's no reason for the employees to ride him. So I've become his primary rider, and in this past lesson with him, I've learned that he's been to two extremes. Fast and slow. I'm responsible for helping him find the middle ground. And I'm not sure why, but that makes me feel really important. Well I guess I am.

I used to be the one who had trouble finding herself. And now, having to help someone else, even if it is a peabrained little gelding, means the world.

i am so ridiculousy tired.

It's not even funny. This past week has literally felt like a month, waking up at six in the morning to practice music for eight hours a day, everyday. On top of that, I have to read my library books, hang out with friends so they don't think I'm neglecting them, and work out. It's so exhausting, I've gotten about 16 hours of cumulative sleep for the past week, when ideally I probably should have had like 42-48 something like that.

We push SO hard in band, and I don't feel it at the time but it when it hits, it hits hard. I went shopping with my mom today because I'm going back to school in a week. I meant to say hi to a friend because he was working but I didn't the chance because after buying jeans and a new pair of Converse I just really wanted to sit down and do nothing. We went to get lunch at Central Market after that and it was good, but after I'd eaten about half of my macaroni, I felt like I was about to fall asleep. I ate as much as I could after that, finished my tea and had my mom take me home.

I probably should take a nap or something but I've got to go back to band in about two and a half hours and I don't want to waste it. But I seriously cannot wait for marching season to end.

Running.

I decided it'll probably take me a year or two to build myself up to a marathon, so I'm starting to train for a 5k that's in September. It's kinda just like I really don't want to run but I need to be healthier and the money for this is going to a good cause and it'll be worth it when it's over. So the point is I'm starting to run and I don't know if I'm actually going to remain committed to it considering the fact that marching season lasts throughout my training. Then again I really don't march or anything, just sit outside and kind of bake in the sun, so maybe it'll work out, if I'm not too lazy.

I ate like three pieces of cheesecake earlier even though I said I was going vegan and I'm just really pissed off because I'm having a lot of trouble staying dedicated to my goals. My stomach hurts like a bitch and I kinda wanna throw up but if I do I can't go to band tonight. I don't really wanna go to band tonight..but I have to. I just do. Ughhughfhgjdfg

My mom is obsessed with running and any time I tell her about it she always harps on me to get my shit together, which is really annoying, but understandable. She likes running for a reason and wants me to understand why she loves it so much, I guess. And I feel bad whenever I don't follow through with training because she gets so excited about it, but I hate that I even got her hopes up in the first place...anyway, I told her today about the 5k I want to run in McKinney because I just need some sort of motivation. I'll start writing in my planner and making a vision board or some stupid motivational shit like that.

Okay, that's what's on my mind today. Bai guiseeee who never read my blog.

maybe i have said something that was wrong.
it's starting to hit me.
that you lied.
that you lied for so long.
"i would cry for days knowing what i had lost"
but i walked away
and you didn't even care.
like you'd never even known me.
i want to cry
but i can't make myself.
i don't know
why.
have i already cried enough?
or is there something i'm missing?
maybe i should
stop searching
for reasons to shed another tear.
but i'm never going to feel okay again.