I Want You to Want Me

I used to LOVE it when you'd come to church and speed-talk through your whole date the night previous, thrilled that I could understand everything you were saying and nobody else was in on our little game.  Just the fact that you were talking to me set my soul alight....

now that boy makes me cringe, hearing you talk of him all the time.  I never want to go anywhere with you because I know chances are he will end up coming along.  I make snide comments... I'm bitter.

I was trying so hard to figure out when the change happened and why.  I knew the emotions behind everything, I just couldn't figure out the root.

Well now I know.

In the past there was a very clear distinction.  He was the boyfriend, and I was the bestfriend.
I was cool with that.

But now it seems he's taken over both roles, and I'm just kind of mingling here with you, like a joke gone too far--it was awesome at first, but now we're just hanging on because we don't want it to end, even if most joy's been sucked out of it.

Well, it's great that you're happy and all... really, I love you too much not to want at least that for you.  And you've said you're tired of pretending to make everyone else happy.

I don't want you to pretend for me...

I want you to actually want me.

I need you to need me.

An Instruction Manual

Wouldn't life just be so much easier if everyone came with their own personal instruction manual?

Inside there would be a list of internal parts, different features, what to feed it, what to do if it breaks, how to keep it in the best condition, trouble shooting, safety warnings, possible upgrades, who to call in for backup if things just aren't working...

exchanging manuals would be sort of like an official declaration of friendship, as if saying "Here you go.  Now that I'm in your life, you're going to need this."

The more complicated/troubled individuals would have entire bibles worth of instructions,
while the more simple would be left with pamphlets.

Where's an easy button when you need one?

A Shirt :}

Perhaps some of you have been reading my blog long enough to remember that super duper long post about my fears of the fareast drama auditions.

Well... right now I'm wearing my brand spankin' new fareast drama shirt.

... Coree's never gotten a shirt for anything before.

Honestly I am so happy I might get emotional.
Finally I've been a part of something worth while!

Are You There, God? It's me--Coree.

Yesterday was horrible.
I was at such.... such a low!

Eventually I became at least a little more rational and decided that it wasn't okay to be so upset (funny how today when I tried to remember why I was sad I had trouble remembering!)

So I prayed.  I prayed really truly hard... yesterday, last night, this morning... Whenever I remembered.

I prayed that I'd be able to feel the love God has for everyone like I used to do just naturally.

And it worked.

Today was good.
I did well on my finals.
I had fun with my friends.
I was productive in drama.
I was once again to look upon people and just love them, no matter their flaws, just like I used to be able to do.

I'd call that a success :}

Hopefully I can keep this up.

Dear Blog,

I've come to learn that you are a very dangerous thing, oh blog of awesomeness.

You see, through more conversation with Abby today, I figured out that sometimes you make things worse.  Yes.... it is quite nice to just be able to get things out and express them in my favorite form of art--words.  Yes, you are really pretty and act as a tool for me to look at pictures of myself which make me appear attractive.  Yeah... it's awesome that other people like you and that I get to feel "popular" at school because I have people coming up all the time and talking to me about you.

But some people might have noticed that I was different today.
I sure as heck did.
I was mean... I was bitter.... I was impolite. 

I've decided that perhaps posting my anger might not be the best option? 

Though it's nice to vent, sometimes I subconsciously look for things to be mad about, just so I can write a dramatic post about them.   Occasionally I just want to feel extreme emotions.  In such times, I crank up the depressing/angry/jealous/whatever music and I start wracking my brain for something to write about. 

I take a pair of tweezers and pick and pick and pick at my soul, in a persistent attempt to snag some little speck of negativity that might make something interesting to write about.  When I finally manage to snag one of said specks, I let it consume me.  I feed it a bit of that tear-inducing song I'm listening to.  I put words to it.  I let it get bigger.  Soon it grows, develops intricate champers, and slowly continues to wrap around me until I am trapped within and have no chance of getting out.

Moral of the story... sometimes putting words to something buried deep within makes it worse.

Actually, that's usually the case.

I don't know if I'm quite ready to give you up.  I like expressing myself this way, even if it is destroying me.

Needless to say, Coree has some stuff to think about.

Sorry, Blog.

It's not you... it's me.

I'm Angry....

but yet so happy :}

See, I know this girl... and her name's Abigail Erdelatz.

She's kinda sorta my lover/twin.
(it's a pretty big deal.)

She listens to me,
she's hilarious,
and she makes me feel like I matter.

I need to spend more time with this chick.

Make way!
We are free spirits.

Our Own Pretty Ways

Let's not spill the truth
It's easier being alone
You're a shadow of the old
And I want something new

A Battleground

Even the most peaceful town once was a battleground

Heavy Storm

I saw an old photograph.
And the picture that appeared,

well it took me back to the time
When she was around

When I Grow Up...

.... I want to be happy.

On my own.

Not that there can't be someone else who comes along and contributes to said happiness-- but I am sick and tired of relying on other people.  I want to be happy with myself.  I want to use my own talents and my own intellect to make a life for myself.... I want to be able to trust in my own judgement and my own reason rather than having to rely on others to make every single little decision for me.  I want to be able to use my own brain to figure out my emotions, rather than going running to someone else to comfort me at the drop of a hat.  I'm starting to realize that it's just the blind leading the blind, anyways.

I'm sitting here trying to find music to bring out my emotions so that I can analyze them and put them into words on here, and all of my songs are about love... all of them.  It's disgusting.  Why do I listen to this stuff?  I've never really loved anyone.

So I guess those are my emotions.

I'm disgusted with myself.

In a few months everything is going to change.  Everything.  My brother and sister are going to grow up, along with many of my friends, who's not graduating is still moving away, and the one person who's staying... well, we'll probably spend all of our time remembering those who've left us.

I don't enjoy this.  I don't like being reduced to tears because I'm scared of losing people... people whom I probably will struggle to remember in just a few years.  I don't like the dull ache I get in my stomach as I try to guess how long it will take for each one to move on and stop caring...

no matter how they say they'll love me forever,

they'll forget.

I don't blame them.

Why shouldn't they forget?

The only thing that used to comfort me in thinking about the near future was that after everyone was gone I could get back to my bad, soul-consuming habits and nobody would care.  Nobody would be there to stop me.  I could destroy myself as much as I wanted and I wouldn't have anybody to confess to.  

These days.... it just seems pointless.  Even that stupid comfort has lost its satisfaction.

But even months before the dramatic period soon to take place, I've noticed other changes coming over me.  They're somewhat subtle, but I'm still noticing them.

I'm becoming self-aware.

Like really, truly, self-aware.

I can now see how stupid I'm being and how stupid I've been... in everything.  I thought I was self aware before because I knew when I was sad and I was good at making up reasons that made sense for that sadness.

I'm not sure why this change is coming over me... but it is.  God must have some reason why planned out.

I've been placing way too much of myself into one person... my trust, my time, my secrets, my worries, my embarrassment, my joys.... my.... my everything.

Yeah, she loves me.  There's no doubt of that.  And... I love her.

But I am no where near her priority like she was for me.  I never have been. 

So why should I make her mine?

I've decided that I need to make myself matter more.  If anyone is ever going to care about me, I'm going to have to care about myself.  I've decided to stop caring so much about everyone else and what they think and what they're saying about me.  Sometimes other people are wrong.  Sometimes I'm right!  For such an apparently "stubborn" person, you'd think I'd get my way more often rather than getting walked all over.  It might be best if I just cut myself off a bit.  

I'm not going to just sit around and watch as the lack of people in my life slowly causes me to melt away into a soupy puddle of self-pity and regret.

I'm tired of assuming everything is my fault, when usually it's because of the cruelty of somebody else.
I'm tired of spending all of my time wishing that I mattered more to other people.
I'm tired of people assuming I'll just always be there.

You guys run off and be happy with each other.  Go ahead.... move on.  See if I care.  I'm going to stay here for another two years.  And, you know what?  After you all leave I'm going to be absolutely fine.  I am going to be completely detached from the world and rely on myself.  In reality I'll be reduced to nothing on the inside... but you'll have absolutely no proof.  

I'm tired of being an open book.

I'm going to be the cold one.

I'm going to be the one with secrets.

I'm going to be the one who you only wish you could be.

I'll have myself.

I'll have God.

And I'll live.

Window Shopping

I love having an adult for a best friend.

Not only does she drive,

but she asks me to go grocery shopping with her and lets me ride in the cart.

Some of the best moments of my life.

You and I.....

An Interesting Realization

A long conversation with my Abigail helped me to suddenly understand something.

In case you didn't know, I push people away--a lot.  I pick one person who I give practically my whole soul, and while I have many people whom I love and have good times with at school and maybe even trust with secrets, doing stuff after school pretty much just doesn't happen.

I have finally figured out what's going on in my head to make it this way.

The thought of people depending on me is simply terrifying.

I take the dependent role in all things, so that nobody has the chance to claim it.  I cut off out of school ties so that I never have any sorts of commitment I need to freak out about.

I just don't want anyone to need me.

At first it made me sad to realize that I was the root of my lack of people to hang out with.  Then I figured out that it really is much easier this way...

but is it better?

A First for Everything

Today I had a few firsts.

I completely opened up and talked and hung out and laughed with someone other than my best friend... it's hard to explain.  I talk and hang out with lots of people.  I adore many many people.  But I guess what made this time different was that I was fully... invested.
I tried chai (how did I go on living without the marvelous beverage?)
And I cried right in public.

All three experiences were new and exciting and left me pondering.

But, crying in public... probably the weirdest. 
If you know me then you know I am not a crier.  If you make me cry then you should be proud of yourself.  The occasional book or movie can make me cry... but it almost always has to have a dog die to get such a reaction.
If you do make me cry, chances are you'll never know. 

But today I broke down sobbing right in front of my whole choir class.
The story of how it happened is really silly and embarrassing, so I won't go into that.
But it was such a... a relief.  I've never been so fully exposed and out there.  The feeling of having my feelings and thoughts being communicated without any possible doubts, even if they were negative, was quite a rush.
It was also mortifying.

See, I wish I was more capable of crying in front of my friends.  Sometimes I want them to know the extent of the pain I'm feeling and just hold me and let me get it all out.
But crying in a room full of people superior to you is not a fun thing.

I don't plan on trying it again any time soon.

My Past Life as a Homeschooler

I love how in my case every single one of these "lies" was true at least to some extent.

Oh, tonight....

You have been so wonderful.

I absolutely adore that feeling of adrenaline and anxiety before a performance, so strong it feels more like having your internal organs strangled by a flaming rope of nausea than a bit of jitters--followed by joy, satisfaction, and pride incomparable to anything else in the world! 
Performing.  There's nothing like it.

I loved getting to sign an autograph for the first time ever (hey you, Angela!  You're freaking awesome)! She actually wanted it because she reads this blog, not for my acting... I think that makes it all the more flattering.

But perhaps my favorite part was after all of the immense stress and adrenaline and joy.  It was sitting in the car in front of my house, just talking to my best friend... really communicating.  It was such a simple thing, and yet so intricate.  I missed the comfort and safety of being able to spill out my soul, whatever was in there, and getting to explain myself and really be understood by somebody. 

In honor of you, Tonight, I shall keep this post short.

Because the simple nothings end up meaning the most.

An Emotional Band-Aid

Tonight has been good.

I can sleep again.

I'm no longer an ocean of emotion,

or a walking soap-opera. 

Things might be a bit off for a short while, or perhaps they'll snap right back to how they usually are.  Regardless, we're all alive....

And we still look hot in coordinating outfits.

WANTED: Time Machine

I hate this.
I hate myself.
I hate what I did.
I hate what you said.

Now just the mention of you causes a sharp pain in my stomach... the exact same feeling as when I flash back to "the bad nights."  I can't focus on anything--my thoughts wander straight back to you and me and the raw hatred for me you must be feeling.

My goodness, we're not ex-lovers!  You're not my dead dog!  Why does it feel so much like that?

I've done this so many times before...

but you never reacted like this, even if I deserved it.
Good on you, I guess...

But you know how sometimes when you hold a baby, they start screaming right away?  You know how the immediate feeling you get is an immense sense of panic and the desperate need for it to just stop and be happy as soon as physically possible, no matter what you have to do to make that happen?
That's how I feel when my friends are crying.

And yet it applies to the situation at hand, as well. 
Only it's been a solid day of that panic and self-loathing, rather than those few moments before someone takes the disgruntled child away.
I want nothing more than for you to just stop being mad (or whatever it is you are) and love me again.  I just want for you to be happy and enjoy my company again.
I would do anything for that.
Or, what might be more meaningful in this case.... I'll quit anything for that.

You're worth more than my selfish journey to find something to fill the void in my life.  You are worth more than a dangerous secret.  You are worth more than my many attempts to try and get attention from people.

You're worth more than anything.

And I am so.... so.... ashamed of myself, that it's taking something like this to make me realize that!

The worst part is...

I don't know if I'll ever be able to fix this.

Not so it's good as new, at least.

An Investment

People, they seem so interested.
Only a few get invested.

Dear Coree,

You suck.

Quit making yourself and others suffer just for the risk of it.

Let some things be perfect and happy,
and let other things be hard to figure out.

Quit combining them into one giant, steaming bowl of misery.

Also... stop blaming your own mistakes on others.
Only you control you.

Moral of the story: grow a brain and use it to think about someone other than yourself.

Signed,
The Wiser Half of You