What is love?
7/26/14, 9:28 AM, the ‘Rents
To settle any curiosity about my previous situation, the resolution was pretty much how Melody predicted: a-okay.
Bryce actually walked through the door as I was writing that post, ironically. He had driven to work, did minor labor, and realized he was not in the mental state to do what he needed to. So he made his commute home to talk to me, while I also coincidentally decided I needed to call of work as well.
Thank every god for the timing of it all.
We laughed, cried, and had a heart-to-heart.
And we’re fine.
After my own personal chagrin, I had reached enlightenment. I had been struggling with admitting the severity of my feelings. I did not want to fall in love with Bryce, when in reality the fact I could even consider it meant it was already too late. I could avoid admitting it all I wanted, dancing around it, but deep down I already knew.
I hadn’t voiced these feelings, thinking I was foolish for even considering them. I did not want to put myself in a vulnerable position where my heart was exposed.
I was afraid. I was afraid of being honest with Bryce and myself.
But I’m ditching that cowardice for good.
Things are going to be substantially different. Better.
Two nights ago when Bryce looked at me and told me to leave, I snapped into the full reality of it all. I want him in my life always. And if I can make it so, I will.
You can call it quick, unorthodox, crazy.
But they’re my feelings. And they’re real, objectively and wholeheartedly.
And what you or anyone—even the man himself—thinks about it is really no one’s damn business but my own.
7/25/14, 8:00 AMish, Phone Call
Me: Hey… I’m sorry for calling you so early.
Mel: It’s fine! I have an exam at 9:30 but that’s not for a while.
Me: I’m really sorry…
Mel: Hey don’t worry about it. So what’s up? You texted me and said you “needed” me. You’d never say you need anyone.
Me: …Bryce and I got into a fight last night and I don’t know where he stands or where we stand and I have no clue what to do. I just really need to talk to someone, I’m scared and upset.
Mel: Okay, alright. Well calm down. What happened?
Me: I fucked up, Mel, I really fucked up.
Mel: Hey, relax. Breathe and walk me through it.
07/21/14,1:34 PM, Business Administration I
Like almost any human being, I have numerous desires and expectations for the future. I’ve always wanted to fly a kite, learn to crochet, become a doctor… But I’ve also acknowledged that anyone can spend their entire lives wishing and even working for something only to never achieve it.
I’m busting my ass in college now trying to get to where I want to be. It isn’t easy, and there is always going to be the possibility that I will end up somewhere else completely, all this effort fruitless.
Part of me is very okay with that.
My ultimate plan is just to be happy. I want the future me to look at life and be able to say that things are generally good—even if I never get to see Machu Picchu or fall in love for good.
"I’d survive no matter what,"
This part of me isn’t so concerned. I can live with never breaking 100 in one game of bowling (I’m a terrible bowler) or riding a horse.
As long as I can smile, my life has been successful, right?
The other half of me lusts for the things that really matter so severely, sometimes it pushes me to anxiety.
"I don’t want to survive, I want to live.”
I want to be able to guarantee certain aspects of my future in a world where there is no such thing as guarantees.
Everyone wants that shit, really.
As fearful as I am about certain things never happening, I need to stop worrying about next month or next year or next decade.
I can’t keep living in anticipation, mind always the future, letting my todays slip by when we have limited tomorrows.
We need to go one foot in front of the other, but damn it’s hard when you want to run.