Real Love

It’s the best book I’ve ever read. I feel so stupid for shoving it aside before. Every time I’m reminded of my former self that committed that stupid act, I groan outwardly. I can’t believe that I overlooked everything before.

It’s love; I’m sure of it. Don’t tell me that I’m a stupid teenager that doesn’t know what love is. I’m not that stupid. But, the truth is, I had no idea what love was until recently.

We always seem to wait to do things until they are done in the most perfect situation you could ever imagine. Seriously; everything is that perfect. Our first kiss was so incredibly special (which was over two months ago!) and I feel fuzzy whenever I think about it. The “I love yous” were no exception.

We were watching the stars. We found the constellations in the sky, then settled for the fake shooting stars darting every which way across the indigo sky. And, he said it. It left me speechless. Then I spoke. What I whispered was something I knew I really and truly meant. This is the first time I have ever felt anything this strong. I know that it must be love. Never in my life have I felt such extreme comfort for a member of the opposite sex that is not a family member. I know it’s real.

I will forever be reading this book. It’s not going back onto the shelf to gather dust any time soon.

Constantly laughing-out-loud

I’m on chapter two, now. The more I read, the more I fall for this book. We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately and I find myself smiling and laughing constantly. The shelf where he resides is so close by and perfect; I still cannot believe that I never knew this before. We walk and meet each other every time we hang out (and by now, reader, you know that I am done using the book metaphor and am speaking of a special boy).

We watched Paranormal Activity almost a week ago. It wasn’t even scary. The part where she gets dragged out of bed by the “thing” made us laugh-out-loud. There were some creepy spots, but he warned me before they arrived by squeezing my hand. We watched The Eye two days ago, and again, it wasn’t scary. Scary movies suddenly aren’t scary to me anymore. At least, not when he’s around. He makes every day that I live brighter, and that’s what I’ve been looking for.

I can’t stop gushing about this boy. As I read on, I’m sure that more parts on pages will be dog-eared and highlighted and noted for future reference. I can’t wait to keep reading.

This coming week halts our adventures, but as soon as I get back from Disney, we will resume and I will pick up the book and start reading again. I don’t want to Disney to be over, but at least there’s something I can look forward afterward so as to not make the ride home a letdown.

The first chapter

My entire life, I have hated to think of the theme of stories, novels and poems that I’ve read. I like to think that there is no specific reason, and that works can’t always be put into a category. This is why I roll my eyes at themes we have to talk about in school, especially ones like “don’t judge a book by its cover” and “curiosity killed the cat.” I guess it just bugs me that things can be categorized, no matter what. But, now I understand.

I judged a book. I looked at the cover, didn’t like what I saw, then shoved it aside. I often referred to that book as “annoying” or “not as cute as everyone thinks.” I didn’t even bother with digging deeper by reading the description of the book on the back cover or by cracking the binding and sampling a page or two. I looked, I judged, I set it down. This is what I do with most things. There’s one thing that I changed my mind on. And now I regret what I thought before.

I saw the book on the shelf, dusted it off, then looked at it again. I smiled to myself as I opened it up and took a look inside. I saw that this book I shoved aside before is absolutely beautiful and kicked myself for not thinking so before. It makes me smile and laugh and made this past week of my life one of the most cheerful ones I have experienced in awhile. I’m still only in the first chapter, but I am planning on reading more and more in the future. I can’t wait to see what else I find.

For everything there is a season

It was like greeting an old friend as soon as my feet found the pavement. The snow had melted just enough and the air seemed balmy in all its glory of forty degrees Fahrenheit. I’ve always found it amazing just how different forty degrees can be, depending on the perspective you’re taking. When the seasons change from summer to fall, 40 degrees seems like the coldest temperature on earth. But, when the winter chill backs off a bit and lets in some of that 40-degree air, it’s as if spring has come early. It’s the same temperature and yet, it’s different.

I had considered making up a quick playlist of songs I could listen to while I ran, but I opted to leave my iPods at home, instead. The birds sang as I left the cul-de-sac I have lived on my whole life and let my legs carry me out to the main road and down the hill. I was surprised at how good I felt and let that carry me through the pain as muscles were put back into use after remaining dormant for nearly two months. The pain gave me something to think about and something to distract me from the mountain of homework I had to do and the hardships I had been dealing with on a regular basis.

When I was running, I didn’t have to feel anything but the pain from the exertion I was putting my body through. When I thought about it hard enough, I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, but if I just let my mind wander and let my legs do my thinking for me, nothing really mattered. I ran by a business that owes my dad money and considered trashing it. But, I didn’t. I kept running and made my way toward the hill that stood menacingly in the not-so-distant distance.

My energy deteriorated once I reached the top, but I kept on running. I reached my halfway mark and kept going. I thought about how natural it is for me to run and how effortless it can be once I am in good shape to do it. I thought about the summer and how the three of us took part of this same route in an effort to be in shape for cross-country season. I thought about how fast the time goes and how it doesn’t make sense to try and cherish every moment. If you’re too busy cherishing, you’re not living. You’re just trying to keep it in your memory forever. A memory should be something you remember effortlessly, not something you save onto the desktop in your brain so you can click on it and wait for it to load.

I decided against taking a shortcut and instead went the whole way around and back to my street. I took a left, ran down to the green Pennysaver box and then took a right, thinking in my head about that last 200m that I face with every race I run on the track. I ran halfway up my slushy driveway and then bent over to catch my breath. I always do this, and then I bend my knees carefully before reaching my full height (5’2″ if you were wondering) and then walking around a little bit, my hands over my head.

I entered through the side garage door, made my way through the traffic blocking my way to the house door (sleds, snowshoes, etc) and shed my running sneakers (New Balance this year – a brand I never really gave a chance until over the summer), grabbed my already-full glass of water off of our butcher block-esque island and downed it in a second.

My ears stung from the cold and my breathing was wheezy with each inhale and exhale I made.

“How’d you feel?” my dad asked.

“All right,” I replied. “I started out too fast and was dead by the end, but it felt good to run. I’m gonna go lay down now.”

I entered the family room and plopped onto our brand-new couch to catch my wheezy breaths. After thirty minutes passed without my daddy turning on the TV, I went upstairs and grabbed The Lovely Bones and continued reading from where I had left off right before daddy had picked me up at the school just barely an hour previously. We sat there, father and daughter, reading our books of choice: his a Yankee book that someone had gotten him and mine a novel that had been made into yet another movie based off of a book. He wore one of his many pairs of $0.99 reading glasses and I wore the sweat and dirt of a girl who had almost made it through one of the toughest weeks of her sixteen years of living, and was coming out on the other side unscathed and perfectly fine.

At 4 o’clock, I tossed my book down and ran the shower upstairs in the bathroom that all of my brothers had vacated and bestowed unto me (we painted it a light brown and pretty light blue and got rid of the old Mickey Mouse theme that had previously reigned).

Before shedding my clothing, I focused on the length of my hair in the mirror. Back in ninth grade, it was a shock of bright-red curls. Now, it’s back to its normal color (brown/blond/red depending on the season and amount of sun received), though the curls have been kept (I have not dyed my hair since November 2008). I’ve decided that I want it to be long for when I take my senior pictures. I thought to myself Oh yeah, it will be long enough by the summer after this one!

And then it hit me.

I will be taking my senior pictures this summer. It’s crazy just how much time flies and how one change in your thoughts can create a chain-reaction of changes throughout your entire mind. At the moment, I am halfway through my junior year of high school. In June, I will sing in the Chamber Choir and watch some of my best friends ever don those white and blue robes and graduate from our little sliver of the universe and move on to bigger (and better) things. This hit me hard because I realized that I haven’t exactly enjoyed my high school experience that much. In recent months, Misery had taken over my entire being and forced me to look at everything pessimistically. But now, happy little Emily is back, and she plans on staying happy and little until she is forced to grow up in a year and a half.

Welcoming winter

After hearing Kim panicking over who could and could not attend her shindig, I made suggestions, called a couple of people, and then settled down with Gemma Doyle for a little while because I knew that the matter was out of my hands. Whatever happens will happen. So be it. I looked up from the realms in the book to glance at the clock, and I found that it was 6:16. Said shindig was due to begin at 7:00. Oh boy.

I deserted my heated blanket (which was set on the highest power it could go – 22), and warned my daddy that his assistance would soon be needed for a chauffeur to Kimmie’s house. I ran upstairs, grabbed my camera, rushed back downstairs, plugged it into the computer and made sure that the little green light was glowing, and then I scurried back up the stairs to throw some clothes on and leave my comfy PJs behind. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, decided against wearing my favorite old pair of jeans for fear that they would split if I bent over (they are pretty ancient), and finally settled on my favorite new skinny jeans. I pulled on a pink Tinkerbell tee shirt, shoved my latest knitting project into my bag, removed Pandora from her home (my iPod), and had almost made it out of my bedroom when I passed my boots on the way out. Hmm…I should probably wear those tonight…I’ll have to walk up her driveway and last time my feet got soaked in my Vans. And so, my boots joined the collection of items that I held in my arms to take downstairs.

I found socks (mismatched of course because I desperately need to wash all of my socks), pulled them on, zipped up my boots, grabbed my camera, and I was ready to go. Oh yeah, and I grabbed my earmuffs – those are important.

My daddy dropped me off at the end of Kim’s driveway, and I trudged my way up it – mentally patting myself on the back for thinking to wear my lovely boots.

Now, Kim called her little get-together a “movie night.” Usually whenever someone has a “movie night” we never end up watching a movie. That is exactly what happened. Tallon and Damen were obsessing over how hot Kim’s house was (almost eighty degrees, I believe), so, collectively we made the decision to take a walk.

As soon as we got outside someone (Tallon, I think) said, “hey! Let’s go sledding down the hill right here!”

Instantly inspired, Kim went into the garage and pulled out a toboggan. And so, the “movie night” turned into a “sledding night.” Now, this “sledding night” had a little twist to it. It just so happened that absolutely NOBODY was prepared for this. Damen didn’t even have a coat, and Taylor was the only one with gloves (though they were fingerless). After out first trip down, I was even more grateful that I decided to pull on my boots. Everybody else was wearing canvas shoes.

We went down and down and down and down again, nearly hitting various obstacles in the way. (For example: a tree or a fence.)

We retired to the summery weather indoors (thank you, woodstove!!!) and enjoyed some hot cocoa that helped us forget about our soaking wet pants and freezing bodies. “Hey, let’s do it again!”

“Hell yeah!”

So, again we made our journey out into the cold that stood still. The snow glimmered and was dented by out footprints and toboggan prints. After another joyful ride through the snow, Damen announced that his ankle was bleeding. We decided that we’d better go back inside before even more spilling of bodily fluids began.

We stayed inside again for awhile. We crammed many a chair around the round table that was not big enough for us (it was missing it’s leaf – because it’s winter and there are no more leaves outside so why should there be one in here?!?!? hehe) and drank more hot cocoa and talked. About twenty minutes to eleven o’clock, someone made the decision that we should do it one more time before leaving. So, again we sailed down the hill laughing all the way (ha ha ha!) nearly hitting said obstacles every time. Damen almost flipped over (his bleeding had ceased), Tallon bailed on us, and I accidentally kicked Tallon where the “sun don’t shine” with my hooker boots. Whoops.

My mom came to pick me after eleven, and the first thing she asked was “what movie did you guys watch?”

Does she not know the rule of “movie night?”

The end

Today is over. It came and went. Everything that I predicted came true, but there were also a few twists.

I woke up at ten o’clock, just like any other gorgeous summer morning. I rolled around on my bed for a little while before I decided that it really was time to get up. No use wasting the day, right?

The sky today was crystal clear, as was yesterday and the day before that and the day before that. Absolutely no clouds in sight. I wallowed around the house, munching a bowl full of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and looking out the window. I finally stepped outside at one o’clock to get my hair cut.

I walked out of The Chop Shop (local hair place – run by a family friend) a whole new person, my hair shorter and more wild with curls. Of course, I had to ruin it by putting it into tiny little piggy tails for cross country practice.

Practice was hell. H-E-double-hockey sticks. We ran over to Prison Hill, and did hill repeats… In the blistering heat. We did six and then my friend and I ran back to the school together with our shirts lifted up, trying to catch even the slightest hint of a breeze.

I got home and took a dip in the pool (which was FREEZING), and then made breffast fo’ dinna. I barely had enough energy to enjoy the meal I had made, I was so wiped out from practice.

As promised, after dinner my mother drove me to the gravel pit to get a good view of the sun drowning in the sky. We had a hard time getting a good view without burning our eyes out of our sockets, but we eventually settled in and watched the sun disappear.

Now, here I am. My tummy is full, my body is tired, and my eyes are droopy with sleepiness. My hair is wild, my nails are perfectly groomed and polished, and my eyebrows have been plucked to perfection (by who else but moi?). My mother is talking on the phone behind me, I hear the sounds of the TV displaying baseball in the next room, watched by who else but my baseball-crazed dad. I can hear the movie my brother is watching from here because of the insane surround sound system he hooked up. I am tired, and there are noises all around me. I am so glad that I actually did keep my promise and watch the sunset, but now, all I want to do is curl up with a book and read until I am cross-eyed. My body is tired, and I am ready to retire to my bedroom where I will greet the new day. My friend instant messaged me and asked me if I am ready for hell tomorrow. I guess I will have to live through a day and decide whether this year will be hell or not. As of now, I really cannot judge.

Quote of the day:

“When it rains, it fricken pours!”