29 May 2009

Love-Hate Relationship

I hate this.

I hate the way you make me feel and how the world seems better around you. I hate the butterflies I get whenever I'm around you. I hate this situation - our situation - and all that it entitles. I hate...

I hate you
I love this

I love how I feel when I'm around you. I love how you make me laugh. I love how you never think before you speak. I love...

I think I love you.

28 May 2009

The Party, Part IX (9)

Taking a chance is a two-sided thing though.

So how is our girl going to take this risk, this huge risk, without him there too? To put it simply, there’s probably a slim chance he feels the same way as she does. Very slim, actually. And, for the most part, she’s okay with that. Okay, so she’s really not one bit okay with that, but she’d rather have what they have now then nothing.

And this amazing best friend, the one who our girl thinks is probably the only real best friend she’s ever had, she helps. A lot. More than even she knows. There are times when our girl is just hopeless, almost to the point of depression, and then this best friend shows up and makes things okay.

She’s gone from friendless to social butterfly.

But back to this guy. He’s someone she never really saw herself going for. He plays a sport every season, isn’t the smartest person in the class (no offense), and kinda a jerk sometimes. But you know what? He’s her jerk, so that makes it okay.

And it’s not like he does it on purpose. It’s just that his mouth works a little bit quicker than his brain – which causes a lot of the stuff he says to come out wrong. Actually, it’s kinda hilarious. According to him, though, he really doesn’t realize he’s being a jerk unless someone calls him on it.

And who better than our girl?

She doesn’t mind. In fact, it gives her even more opportunity to talk to him. Late night phone calls that should end in 20 minutes and last over an hour, hanging out and generally just being dorks…it’s what they do.

It’s weird for her, though. She thinks the attraction is there, but who can really be sure? When they’re alone or just talking on the phone it’s so much different then when they’re with other people. The conversation flows more easily and they just goof off. It’s like they’ve been friends forever.

So…is this love?

The Party, Part VIII (8)

So, she joined a sport.

It was kind of a huge, stop-the-presses moment when people found out. Her? Doing exercise by choice? They all whispered behind hands in a horrid attempt to hide the fact that they were talking. ‘It’s the truth,’ was all she would say, smiling a little half-smile. ‘I’ve wanted to do this for a while, and there was an excellent excuse.’

Her excuse wasn’t what you might expect. It turned out to be many things, including but not limited to: her best friend, her crush-turned-close-friend, the feel of the water underneath you in a boat, and the sense of comfort you get in have a nine-person-strong team.

Yep, rowing was her thing.

Of course, she joined for him. The important part was that she stayed for them and, more importantly, herself. It became her life. Practice every day seemed to be the one thing she looked forward to. Knowing that she was part of something far bigger than herself was a feeling she never wanted to lose.

Let’s talk about this boy, now. Yes, she’s had those two horrid ones in her past, but he’s different. Sure, everyone says that when they’ve fallen hard, but she genuinely believes it. Enough to join a sport and pretend she has a life outside of crew. (So, yes, she did join for him, but she really does love it now). He’s…good in every sense of the word. A gentleman, a best friend, sensitive, funny, not overly smart…everything she ever wished for in a guy.

She thinks he’s the first person she could ever fall in love with.

A big statement, yes, but possibly true. After all, how could you not love this guy? He’s so charismatic and charming and disarming and…she could go on for days. Certainly her best friend (not the one from before, but one who actually cares about what’s going on in our girl’s life) is sick of hearing about this boy. Certainly everyone is sick of it.

But our girl…well, she’s had her heart stomped on quite a few times already, hasn’t she? First, the supposed ‘best friend’ that kicked her out, then the boy she thought cared for her, and then the one from her past that they made her try and reconnect with. A heart is such a fragile thing…why must it be made of glass? Why must we give our hearts to those who might just break them?

She thinks it’s worth the chance.

24 May 2009

The Party, Part VII (7)

When she asked what was life without a little danger, she didn’t mean danger of this sort.

No, she meant something far closer to taking chances and meeting new people, not trying to mend ties with old friends. She never wanted to. In fact, she was terrified. Even standing so close to him…it was enough to make her heart go crazy. He meant too much to her. There was no way she wanted to screw things up even more than they already were. No way would she risk everything on the premise of making things better.

Yet here she was in a thinly veiled attempt to try and get him into the conversation. Her friends mimed dragging him out of the chair, his back to them all, and forcing him to talk. They knew how much he meant to her, and how much she used to matter to him (although, she kept pointing out, he was the one who ended the friendship, so she obviously didn’t mean that much). None of them really knew though, and she blamed herself for not telling them before. After all, if she didn’t tell them, they would never know. He certainly would never say anything about it.

Enter the best friend.

She knew from day one that her friend and him were close. That they were good friends. People warned her of this, too. Warned that, yes, they were chummy now, but that could change in a year or two.

They were right. Even though the best friend wouldn’t admit it, she was noticing the faint signs of a crush. Whenever she brought him up, her best friend would change the subject but if she brought him up, our girl was supposed to just sit there and listen. Shouldn’t it work both ways? She wondered one day. Aren’t we supposed to console each other and promise to never let a boy come in-between us?

But it was already doomed.

He hadn’t spoken to her in around six months, and it didn’t look like that would change anytime soon. No sir, things were awkward and that was how he liked it. Disgusted looks thrown over shoulders, moving to the other side of the hallway – into ‘oncoming traffic’ – just to avoid her…this guy truly was a jerk.

So why does our girl care so much? Because he lied. There had been flirting and, besides that, a genuine friendship. He told her to wait. She waited. He never came back. She chased. He messed with her heart and mind. She cried. He could have cared less.

Can’t everyone relate?


Sorry about the huge Party dump. I posted 6 & 7 and then realized I hadn't updated it since the 3rd part! Jeeze, Addy, slipping like that....well, here's 4-7. Part 8's already on it's way.

The Party, Part VI (6)

It turns out they were all right.

All those people she had labeled as critics and cynical. They had been right about him. Him, the one she’d been so blinded by. Him, the one she could still just see and smile. Him, the one who said things it turned out he didn’t really mean.

She wasn’t mad. On the contrary, people were starting to wonder why she wasn’t. Shrugging, she could only reply that she didn’t truly know either. Sure, she was a bit upset, at first, but who wouldn’t be? Now, mere days later, she was fine.

It was okay.

They were still friends, still messed around during lunch and talked about how crazy their friends were. Maybe that was best. They weren’t meant for each other, not the way she once thought. But being friends was enough for her. “Why do we even put up with this?” he sighed one day.

She brightened up; bored with the endless talks about Pokemon and other things she didn’t fully understand. “Because they’re our friends, and they put up with us.”

It was the truth.

She pondered it a bit, staring into the near emptiness of her chocolate milk. She loved her friends, that much was true, even when they were exasperating – which was a lot of the time. But, though she didn’t truly fit there, they accepted her when hardly anyone else had. Wasn’t it better to be in a place where you didn’t quite belong versus alone? She knows there are other places now, now that she’s been widely accepted due to some long-enduring friendships, but she’s not ready yet to break ties.

The time is coming though. Too many people equals too much drama that she doesn’t need. There are others that have asked her to sit with them at lunch, do projects with her in class, be their partner in gym and until now she’s politely declined. Now…now, she might just take the opportunities as they come. Live up the high school years and all.

After all, what’s life without a little danger?

The Party, Part V (5)

Silence is her way.

Her way to express what she can not aloud. Though it maddens others, he’s patient as he waits for a response. After many moments that seem to last hours, her voice is quiet but firm: “I was thinking. About me, about you, about us. About the future and what it might hold, and the past’s ghosts. Just…trying to collect my thoughts, I guess.” She knows that’s not the answer he expected, nor the one he wanted, but it’s all she’s willing to give away at the moment.

She stretches out along her bed, wishing that she wasn’t holding a phone. Wishing she was holding him. That he was holding her. That the cold and snow didn’t separate them as it did. There is silence as he processes the information, trying to pick the best words. When he finally speaks, his tone is laced with caring and concern. “Well, okay, then. Just…well, are you going to be okay?”

She doesn’t know quite what he means.

And she says so. When his warm, rich laughter reaches her ears through the phone lines, she can’t help but smile. “I mean, is your train of thought leading to bad feelings or good ones? Will you end up feeling like you used to, before me,” here he pauses, and she knows he’s thinking of one that hurt her in the past, “or are you being optimistic?”

“Oh,” is her intelligent response, “Oh, um…I don’t know, really.” Pausing, she thinks a bit more. He turns on music on his end, something to fill the silence that doesn’t need to be filled. “Um…it’s a mix really…some of it’s good, so good, like when I think about us and stuff that’s already happened. But other times it’s not so good. Like when I worry about stuff that probably won’t happen. Stuff that just serves to make me more uncertain.”

She mentally smacks herself.

None of that was reassuring, especially to him. She realizes she spoke without thinking, something she’s doing more and more around him. Trying to help herself, and make everything a bit clearer, she sighs before continuing: “I…I just never have had anything like this. It’s scary and huge and something someone like me doesn’t deserve. I’m not pretty, not smart, not extraordinary. Just normal.”

His tone is fierce when he speaks. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You are an amazing person; beautiful on the inside and out, smarter than me – and that counts for something, and entirely too uncertain of yourself. You don’t think you’re good enough, when in reality you are more deserving of love and happiness than any other person I’ve ever met in my life. You deserve something amazing in your life, and if you consider me that – although I believe you might be a tad off in the head for thing me amazing – than just know I’ll be there for you. Whatever, whenever, where ever. I promise you this.”

She is too stunned to speak, but not enough so to stop the tears from falling as she smiles.

The Party, Part IV (4)

She’s never felt like this before.

What exactly is ‘this’? Is her “fairytale prince” just some faker with a tinfoil crown? She hopes not, because she couldn’t bear the crushing blow it would mean. The crush of reality against her heart, the impact slipping the blindfold from her startled eyes. Would she see what she believed she did now? Or would it be something totally different?

Would it be the truth? She knows those she used to call friends are wary of him. Of how he used to be, and how she tells them he treats her now. “A person can’t change overnight, no matter how hard you wish it,” they tell her. “It’s simply not possible for him.”

She just ignores them.

For if she’s happy and being treated well, what business of it is theirs? She’s not in danger – she’s smart enough to know when to bow out gracefully instead of getting her heart stepped on. Shouldn’t she get the very chance at happiness that they all wanted her to have? Isn’t everyone entitled to make their own choices and mistakes?

And, besides, they don’t know the him that she knows. He is a different person to her, one far gentler and sweeter than with he is with his friends. There’s a protective – and, at times, possessive – arm around her shoulders, and she can’t help but feel safe. Feel important. Feel wanted.

She is content, so what’s missing?

She knows his arms would be there to catch her, if only she would jump. So why can’t she? She isn’t scared, per say, more wary. Others have done this to her – made her jumpy and slow to trust people’s intentions.

“What’s wrong?” his soothing voice asks her over the phone, voice like a drug to her. “You seem like you’re daydreaming. Are you okay?”

Her answer is only silence.

19 May 2009

Some Shamless Promotion....

So, I'm a huge Indigo Girls fan. Grew up listening to their music, know a lot of the songs by heart and just generally love them. AND THEY'RE COMING TO TOWN!!!!! (yay!)

Since tickets run roundabouts $45 and my mom and I were going (she's the one who introduced me to them), it would have easily been $100+ to go. BUT we got selected for the Street Crew. For two tickets and a *free* t-shirt, we have to put up banners on the 'net and about 400 posters around town. I'd love it if you checked them out. If you haven't heard them, rush to their website and listen a bit.

BUT if you're in the area, for those of you who know me, they're playing Mejier Gardens on July 24th with Brandi Carlile. Tickets are $45 and selling out quick.

Hope to see some of you there!

eek. I'm actually going. xD

13 May 2009

This is Reality....

This -
this breath
this moment
this tune -
is what life is about.

One moment it
finds purchase in the world
the next it falls

into the darkness
into awkward silences
into my memories
as you slip away

Where did you go?
Why did you leave?
Why am I left here,
wondering all of the
"what if's"?

How is it that one moment
can be so infinatly different than another?
That you can change
all in the space of 60 seconds?
That I can screw it up and
land flat on my face?

Sigh as the thoughts flow
and my mind starts to numb.
The simple truth is:
I have no idea

No idea about you
or what's in the future.
But I'm willing to wait
and try.


I'm sure you know what (and who) I'm talking about, Abigailxx.

11 May 2009


There are things I can not comprehend, let alone try to explain through words that can take on a meaning of their own. Things like love, why birds sing, why the sky is so enticing, and why crew is simply addicting. Things like my feelings, my emotions, and why they are what they are. Things like how a smile can make my day and why I giggle when certain words are said.

But…they all want me to put my feelings into words. Words that can be interpreted many different ways, depending on who said them, whom they’re said to, who eavesdrops…they are not always as reliable as one might think. Especially one who plans to make her career on words.

Obviously, I don’t want to screw things up like I have in the past. Screw up so much that I lose someone who means so much to me. But how do I let you know?

No clue.

04 May 2009

Twilight Spoof

This is epic.

That is all

Find more videos like this on Hollywood East TV


Don’t seem to help,
To say what I need them to,
To tell you
The truth

The truth
Behind every action,
Every thing I say.
Every insignificant

It hurts.
To know that
We both want this so badly
Yet neither will
Make the move

Sure there are moments.
Whenever we’re together
Being the number one
On the list of
My favorites

But you?
I can never tell
Exactly what you mean
Or what’s going through
Your mind

It’s maddening.
Every moment
A mystery
Every word from your mouth
Mesmerizing and insignificant

Everything blends together:
Conversations, laughs
Moments we both cherish.
But what about you?
Do you remember them?

I remember every one.
Every second

I hope you do too

01 May 2009

Shattered Hearts (companion to Scattered Letters)

Hearts shatter every second
So why is heartbreak so painful?
So full of sadness and tears?

Glass breaks, shatters, cracks.
Why must hearts be made of glass,
When it’s so obviously breakable?

Thoughts such as these
Are stemmed from rainy days,
Lovely smiles and chocolate-chip cookies.

Smiles that can mend a heart
(if put to the correct use)
Or cause a broken one even more pain.

I see one of those smiles
And try to forget it so
I may go about my day.

It’s no use.
It stays hidden in my thoughts all day,
Popping up when least expected.

Although it’s not unpleasant,
It does remind me of another
And times spent not-so-long ago.

The owner of this smile is…
Well, that’s the hard part.
Am I dreaming of perfection, or is it really him?

Is he really who I think,
Or is my imagination acting up again
As it’s apt to do?

Sigh as the comparisons draw closer
Until I’m not sure which one is which
And who it is I wish I were with

Someone One or Someone Two
Or some strange combination of both?
Possibly something different altogether?

Whatever the imagery in my mind,
It’s not likely to become truth
Unless I take the initiative and run.

Scattered Letters

Words scatter themselves across my page
But all I can do is sip my coffee
And sigh

The words can try and arrange themselves
Into sentences that make sense the tangle of my mind
But it’s to no avail

For if I cannot do so myself, how can they?
If I cannot make sense of my own thoughts
Then how could words flowing from my fingers?

All I want is a simple way to explain.
Explain how I feel, why he affects me so,
Why my heart skips whenever he is mentioned

How a single glance can make my day
Or how a glare could make me want to crawl into bed
Or even how the memory of his laugh makes me feel better.

Sigh again as the frustration starts anew.
Frustration stemmed from sadness, loneliness
And all those butterflies.

Taking my mug and standing from the booth,
I tuck the letters into my pocket and
Try to move on with my life

The street outside is crowded with people
Going about their lives as per usual.
Ignoring one another.

Few heads seem familiar, but
I think I glimpse that Special One in particular.
Second glance proves me wrong.

Is it sad that I see him everywhere I go?
Sad that I want what I know I’ll never have?
That I could never deserve?

From my pocket a letter suddenly flies.
I watch it dance with the wind, swooping
Swirling, spiraling with every current.

I want to run after it, but it’s useless.
After all, it was one from him
And I need to forget, though I know I can’t.

His Girl Friday

It started innocently enough, as these things always do. Ashlin was someone I had always been close to, always felt I could trust. Naturally, we ended up in the same clique in high school. She was the cheerleading captain junior year, when it all went down hill.

I had been a star tight end on our school’s football team since I joined freshman year. It was not my first love; no, that title belongs to music. I was the guy on the team that didn’t quite fit in – the guys only tolerated/liked me because they had to or Coach would yell.

So, quite understandably, when I quit the team senior year, they all jumped me. Told me that I cost them a perfect season as they punched me. Told me I would never amount to anything with my “silly singing thing” that I had going.

Ha. I hope they’re reading this (if they’ve finally learned to read).

Ash was the one to find me after that, half shoved into the dumpster behind the school. She had just gotten out of practice, and was probably off to see Brett (aka the Flavor of the Moment for her and the team’s quarterback).

But she saw me first.

“Charlie!” she called, horror written all over her face. “Charlie, who did this to you?”

Now, let it be known that I am a tough guy. To put up with football conditioning, you have to be. But I had just been beaten within an inch of my life and it hurt. My lips were swollen and bleeding, so even though I said, “Your idiot boyfriend and the rest of the team,” it probably just sounded like mush.

She was crying then. That’s probably what I remember the most. Tears just started pouring down her face, which is how I knew that she had understood me. Always had. “Oh, you poor thing,” she whispered, fingertips lightly caressing my cheek. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, yeah?” Helping me to my feet, she maneuvered me over to her truck.

Ashlin is not your typical cheerleader. She’s not blonde, not overly popular, doesn’t rule the school, and is generally just a nice person. And smart. I don’t think her GPA has ever been below a 3.8. But she is much more…scene…than you would think. Someone you really couldn’t picture as a cheerleader, let alone captain, if you saw her by herself. Wears skate shoes and hoodies when she’s not in practice, would never be caught dead in her uniform unless she absolutely had to…kinda the anti-cheerleader. But she still works just as hard – if not harder – than the other girls on her team because she’s so small. Probably only 5 foot 2 and no more than 120 pounds.

But moving me into her truck still wasn’t easy. I wasn’t much help, which wasn’t totally my fault, but still emasculated me. Somehow we managed it, though, and before I knew it we were back at my house.

“So…?” her tone asked what she felt was too awkward to.

“Nobody’s home, Ash. Dad and Tara went on some Daddy-Daughter thing. Come in and help patch me up?” I offered her a hand out of the truck. She took it.

Before this gets any further, Ashlin is…well, kinda a time-share girl. Saturday through Thursday, she’s mine. But Friday? She’s his girl Friday. Him being Brett Smithson, star quarterback, every girl in the school’s crush, general meathead.

And today, the day of my beat down? Friday.

So, naturally, I was kinda worried. “How much does Brett know about us?” I asked as she put Neosporin on my various cuts and wiped the blood away.

She paused just long enough to raise an eyebrow at me. “He knows I’m only ‘with’ him so he’s not swarmed by every freshie fangirl in the school. But that it’s only show. He’s a big boy, he can think of an excuse as to why I’m not at Britney’s party.” Seeing my still-questioning look, she added, “But he does know about you and I, Charlie. Probably why he hurt you so much…”

I could tell she was beating herself up about it. I cupped her chin in my fingers, searching her eyes with my own. “It’s not your fault. I knew the risks when we started this.”

“But it’s still not fair!”

I smirked. “No one ever said high school was.”

Truth was, I don’t think I ever really understood how dangerous our relationship could be. Sure, there were the footballers to worry about, but what’s twenty-some people compared to the entire school? Apparently, that was the reality. If word got out about us, the drop-our star and the head cheerleader, well…let’s just say I’d probably hurt a lot more than I did then.

But what’s a few scrapes compared to having someone who loved you?

Ashlin did. She told me every chance she could through her actions. Even just ditching out on Brett to help me – that said it. Of course, she said it too. Just not as often as those moments when I just knew.

Her sudden sigh brought me back to the moment. “Charlie, what if I just left him? Face it; with where I stand in the hierarchy of the school, you’d be untouchable. You know everyone knows the cheer squad could take down almost anybody. We would be fine, we wouldn’t have to sneak around…”

I kissed her forehead softly, murmuring into her hair. “I love you, you know that. But…well…”

“But what, Charlie?” her tone was laced with tears.

“Well…I don’t know! I just want to be with you, Ash.” My head was spinning. Hadn’t I dreamed about the moment when I could walk the hallways holding her hand and not be ridiculed? “I just…I want…” I sighed, realizing the words just wouldn’t come out. “I just want you to be happy. I can deal with whatever everyone else throws at me, as long as you’re okay. If they start in on you, though…well, I’m not making an promises that I won’t get into any fights.”


The next day, after spending the night together (relax, we just talked late and ended up falling asleep on the couch. I, being a gentleman, carried her to my bed and took the couch for myself), I limped into school, her on my arm.

The first thing I noticed was the brief glances and then double-takes. It seemed like everyone was a bit shocked, but no one particularly seemed like they were going to kill me. “Huh…” I mumbled. “Weird.”

Ash just beamed up at me. “See? I told you it would be fine. Stop worrying so much.”

And the funny part was, even the people who glared at me couldn’t have done anything. I was on Cloud 9, floating through the hallways with my own personal angel.

“Come on a Monday, come on a Tuesday, they’ll never know. Pop all the corks for Wednesday, play with me Thursday, but you’ll always be his girl Friday”

Obviously based upon the song "His Girl Friday" by The Academy Is... (go look it up on YouTube. It's amazing)

Apologies, Excuses and a *ton* of New Stuff

I'm sorry, so incredibly sorry everyone. I had a lot of...troubles, and only just now am I free to return to the land of Blogger.

BUT I do come back to you all with a lot of stuff I've been saving. So, are you ready for a HUGE posting spree?

Love, A

(I'll try to do it over the next few days, so you're not overwhelmed. ;D)