As I posted previously, I was accepted into my first choice university, the University of Rochester. With that hurdle out of the way, my next concern was "How in the hell am I going to pay for this?"
My projected financial aid package for my freshman year came in yesterday, and basically I have to find a little over $11,000 to meet the cost of attendance. I would take the rest of it out in loans, but my federal loans were already at $7,000 per year, and I'd prefer not to be about $72,000 in debt after my Bachelor's degree. So after I looked into it a little more by talking to a current UofR student, I feel confident that I can lower that difference in cost some.
BUT (there's always a but isn't there?) it came to my attention that my family's financial situation may significantly improve once my mom graduates school in 2013, as she'll be getting a job (probably by 2014). What that means is that while my freshman and sophomore years may be all worked out, my aid for the subsequent years is going to disappear drastically. Is it selfish of me to want my mom to remain unemployed? Probably. However, I didn't make her life decisions that caused her to be this way, and because it's not my fault she's living this way, she shouldn't make me suffer in debt (or wallowing in depression because I can't go to where my heart wants me to go).
Then I did a little research on how to become a "financial independent," meaning the school wouldn't need any more financial information from my parents. It would maintain, roughly (if I'm reading into all of this right), that my aid would stay the same, and my mom can go do with her life as she pleases. But becoming an independent would involve more than just me, so that's something to think about. Or if Mom becomes as financially successful as she thinks, then she can take out the Parent PLUS loan that every other kid's parents do to afford college and take the burden off the student because that's what GOOD parents do. But anyway, yeah money's a big issue for me.
So today, I moved around kinda depressed and pissed off because I would rather die than go to UCF, and it clicked that if it's meant to be, it'll work out. And I realized how bad I want to go to Rochester, how bad I NEED to go to Rochester. And I remembered the MastersCard commercials that go something like "Bathing suits: $30. Tickets to the Bahamas: $2,000. Making once-in-a-lifetime memories: priceless." It reminded me that I'm only going to college once in my life, and I need to do things the way they should be. And I certainly didn't stay in IB just to go to a school I hate. I'd rather owe $150,000 (guestimation) and have an amazing experience that I can't get back than "save" money and be absolutely miserable. Then I opened my daily Dove chocolate and read the message inside (sometimes I do and sometimes I don't), and it said "Do what feels right." I've been in a logical vs. emotional, pros vs. cons tie for a long time about Rochester, and that little message of encouragement broke it.
And so, here I go.
Signed,
An (once I get the $800 enrollment deposit) Official Yellowjacket
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Yellow Jacket Pride
Assuming you haven't seen elsewhere, possible readers, guess who got accepted into the University of Rochester! I cried, I really did. It was quite the experience. I found the packet last Thursday after school.
As pleased/delighted/overjoyed/amazed as I am about my acceptance, I'm torn between them and DePaul, which I'm sure I said before. Of course I'm in love with Rochester and everything about it, but there's just something about the unknown of the third largest city in the country that's pulling me in. Like TJ, I WANT that city experience. The "famous" Metro is right by campus, and pretty much all my favorite bands play either there or close to it. Not to mention I started my Chicago obsession at the tender age of 12. Almost NO bands play in Rochester, maybe Buffalo but that's an hour out, and heaven forbid they skip all that and go straight to NYC six hours away. I'd die. Isn't FOB supposed to come off hiatus soon? Because when they do, I'll have to be there, and I can't go if a concert is on a weeknight and it's in NYC. A weeknight show in Chicago? So much easier. But I can't get over that feeling I had when I stepped on the UofR campus that first day summer of 2011. Love at first sight is the closest thing I can say to describe it.
It's all going to come down to money in the end. I get my Rochester projected aid packet before the new year, and that will make or break my early decision agreement. If they fall through, then DePaul, by default (ha), becomes my top against UCF as far as money is concerned. Sadly as much as I want to, I can't go into the myUCF account and click "decline" on the admission status page. And why? Because of money. What happens if I decline them now, or in a few weeks, and either UofR falls through or DePaul simply doesn't offer enough for me to handle decent loans? I'd be drowning in debt...but do I care? I'd be stuck here for at least 4 years if I went to UCF, not to mention the "free money" Bright Futures offers requires that I stay in state another 4 years after that, so there goes my Master's degree AND first 2 years in the workforce. Even if I ended up in debt, at least there would be roughly 6 years of my life where I'd be HAPPY in my youth. Because I hate it here. Too many negative memories and traumatic experiences leaving a bad taste in my mouth. Plus the weather. All that alone is enough for me to leave this terrible place. It's time I made my own choices about my life, right?
On an unrelated note, my laptop STILL won't let me login to Blogger, so this is coming from me being done with day one of midterm exams on a school laptop. And my laptop won't let me login to Tumblr now either, but at least I have the app! Not the same though. Sigh.
As pleased/delighted/overjoyed/amazed as I am about my acceptance, I'm torn between them and DePaul, which I'm sure I said before. Of course I'm in love with Rochester and everything about it, but there's just something about the unknown of the third largest city in the country that's pulling me in. Like TJ, I WANT that city experience. The "famous" Metro is right by campus, and pretty much all my favorite bands play either there or close to it. Not to mention I started my Chicago obsession at the tender age of 12. Almost NO bands play in Rochester, maybe Buffalo but that's an hour out, and heaven forbid they skip all that and go straight to NYC six hours away. I'd die. Isn't FOB supposed to come off hiatus soon? Because when they do, I'll have to be there, and I can't go if a concert is on a weeknight and it's in NYC. A weeknight show in Chicago? So much easier. But I can't get over that feeling I had when I stepped on the UofR campus that first day summer of 2011. Love at first sight is the closest thing I can say to describe it.
It's all going to come down to money in the end. I get my Rochester projected aid packet before the new year, and that will make or break my early decision agreement. If they fall through, then DePaul, by default (ha), becomes my top against UCF as far as money is concerned. Sadly as much as I want to, I can't go into the myUCF account and click "decline" on the admission status page. And why? Because of money. What happens if I decline them now, or in a few weeks, and either UofR falls through or DePaul simply doesn't offer enough for me to handle decent loans? I'd be drowning in debt...but do I care? I'd be stuck here for at least 4 years if I went to UCF, not to mention the "free money" Bright Futures offers requires that I stay in state another 4 years after that, so there goes my Master's degree AND first 2 years in the workforce. Even if I ended up in debt, at least there would be roughly 6 years of my life where I'd be HAPPY in my youth. Because I hate it here. Too many negative memories and traumatic experiences leaving a bad taste in my mouth. Plus the weather. All that alone is enough for me to leave this terrible place. It's time I made my own choices about my life, right?
On an unrelated note, my laptop STILL won't let me login to Blogger, so this is coming from me being done with day one of midterm exams on a school laptop. And my laptop won't let me login to Tumblr now either, but at least I have the app! Not the same though. Sigh.
Monday, December 10, 2012
News!
IUD went in just fine. Definite pain during and a bit afterwards but here I am a week later and feeling back to normal completely. I'd say it was worth it.
But here's the real news! I got accepted into DePaul! And not only that but I received the top Dean's scholarship there for a total of $56,000, which is $14,000 per year for tuition. So, basically, that's nearly half tuition every year, leaving me with around $28,000 to come up with. But I'm confident in need-based aid to cover another part of that before loans come in.
I think Rochester has serious competition, because I'm falling in love with Chicago too. And speaking of who I signed my life away to, UofR sent out most of the early decision letters today, so I could hear by the end of the week. Well, really anywhere between 2-9 days from now. But still! Decision is coming, then financial aid notices for the whole picture.
I don't know what I'm more worried about: not being able to pay for it, the actual admission decision, or being able to pay. Crazy right? Guess I could always go to Chicago for graduate school, but it messes up future plans...who cares?!? I'm taking things one phase at a time.
Which brings me to TJ. After some fiasco while spending the holidays with him, we've decided to put a halt to the whole promise ring and definite future idea. I've never been a normal teen, and I'll never get that chance again. Maybe we're soulmates and will spend forever together and get married, but maybe we won't. Maybe we're just high school sweethearts and we haven't met "The One" yet. Or maybe we're each other's "One." I don't know. But we've talked a lot, and we have some fixing to do. Nothing's perfect. But it's falling into place.
Computer won't let me on Blogger so this is from my phone app, hence the general brevity of this post. There will be more admission updates as I hear back!
But here's the real news! I got accepted into DePaul! And not only that but I received the top Dean's scholarship there for a total of $56,000, which is $14,000 per year for tuition. So, basically, that's nearly half tuition every year, leaving me with around $28,000 to come up with. But I'm confident in need-based aid to cover another part of that before loans come in.
I think Rochester has serious competition, because I'm falling in love with Chicago too. And speaking of who I signed my life away to, UofR sent out most of the early decision letters today, so I could hear by the end of the week. Well, really anywhere between 2-9 days from now. But still! Decision is coming, then financial aid notices for the whole picture.
I don't know what I'm more worried about: not being able to pay for it, the actual admission decision, or being able to pay. Crazy right? Guess I could always go to Chicago for graduate school, but it messes up future plans...who cares?!? I'm taking things one phase at a time.
Which brings me to TJ. After some fiasco while spending the holidays with him, we've decided to put a halt to the whole promise ring and definite future idea. I've never been a normal teen, and I'll never get that chance again. Maybe we're soulmates and will spend forever together and get married, but maybe we won't. Maybe we're just high school sweethearts and we haven't met "The One" yet. Or maybe we're each other's "One." I don't know. But we've talked a lot, and we have some fixing to do. Nothing's perfect. But it's falling into place.
Computer won't let me on Blogger so this is from my phone app, hence the general brevity of this post. There will be more admission updates as I hear back!
Monday, December 3, 2012
Worries and Cares
Getting my IUD put in today. And I'm scared about it. Not as if I have a "feeling" something bad is going to happen or anything like that. I'm just mixed a little on the whole thing.
I know it's the right thing. 99.99% effective birth control with no hormones for ten years. Don't have to take a pill or a shot every so often. One time and I'm done. But it's an invasive procedure.
Doctor is going to have to dilate my cervix, like what happens in child birth but not to 10 cm. Still not fun, as there will be bad cramps. Then after he inserts it and places it making sure it's perfect I'll have bleeding and cramping for up to a month after.
But wait there's more! If I don't check the strings (not as long as a tampon string but they're there) and make sure they're the same length, the device could fall out and become ineffective or be free-range in my uterus and fuck it up so bad I'll become infertile. That doesn't happen to the majority of people but it could still happen.
Like I said I'm not legitimately worried, if I were I would have cancelled my appointment. But the benefits certainly outweigh the risks. It wouldn't be the recommended form of birth control for teens if they didn't. It's like how I got with my tattoo: there was a chance I'd be allergic to the ink or the needle vibrations, or I would get an infection or something. But none of that happened.
Guess this is my first real part of growing up. Making adult decisions and all that. But a little academic win for last week: 100% on my financial math quiz, tied for highest grade on my history test, and beat TJ on our biology test on ecology.
I know it's the right thing. 99.99% effective birth control with no hormones for ten years. Don't have to take a pill or a shot every so often. One time and I'm done. But it's an invasive procedure.
Doctor is going to have to dilate my cervix, like what happens in child birth but not to 10 cm. Still not fun, as there will be bad cramps. Then after he inserts it and places it making sure it's perfect I'll have bleeding and cramping for up to a month after.
But wait there's more! If I don't check the strings (not as long as a tampon string but they're there) and make sure they're the same length, the device could fall out and become ineffective or be free-range in my uterus and fuck it up so bad I'll become infertile. That doesn't happen to the majority of people but it could still happen.
Like I said I'm not legitimately worried, if I were I would have cancelled my appointment. But the benefits certainly outweigh the risks. It wouldn't be the recommended form of birth control for teens if they didn't. It's like how I got with my tattoo: there was a chance I'd be allergic to the ink or the needle vibrations, or I would get an infection or something. But none of that happened.
Guess this is my first real part of growing up. Making adult decisions and all that. But a little academic win for last week: 100% on my financial math quiz, tied for highest grade on my history test, and beat TJ on our biology test on ecology.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
The Girl
The first time I saw Patrick Stump live, I met a girl in line named Hannah. Petite, a little younger than me. Together we pushed our way to stage front, and I made sure she was in front of me because a) she was shorter than me and b) I recall that night being her first concert. It was quite the intimate bonding experience, and after Patrick got off stage, we waited around together, jointly attempting (and failing) at convincing our respective parent to stay a little longer so we could meet him because we just KNEW he was going to come out any minute. We wouldn't really find out. And when we left, we didn't know anything about each other than each other's names. She didn't have Twitter at the time, and we didn't get phone numbers. But about a month or less later, she made herself a Twitter and found me. We've been friends ever since.
Naturally, there's more. We shared much in common. Our love for Fall Out Boy. Our outlook on the world. Our mental health. Our indulgence in self-harm. And all of that together only brought us closer. For over a year now, I've been one of her go-tos; you know, someone you know you can go to without a doubt for anything, and she's been one of mine. I like to think that I've helped her out of some pretty tough situations, situations that if left without help could have led to things she couldn't take back. While there's no such thing as a "cure" for all of this, for everything that's "wrong" with us, there is such a thing as feeling better. Because each day we don't succumb to that darkness inside of us is one more good day under our belts.
She's going through so much right now. None of which I'm sharing out of her right to privacy, and it's not my story to tell. But I will say that it's all very hard, harder than I've ever gone through. That's the truth.
For you, because I know you're reading: no matter how bad things get, no matter how much you're struggling and think it's hopeless, no matter how much you want to give up, no matter the times you give in to that terrible addiction, I will always be there. Understand that. I'm not going anywhere. You could never annoy me. You could never scare me off. You're the sibling I never had, and I love you. I see so much of myself in you. But just know I'm here.
Naturally, there's more. We shared much in common. Our love for Fall Out Boy. Our outlook on the world. Our mental health. Our indulgence in self-harm. And all of that together only brought us closer. For over a year now, I've been one of her go-tos; you know, someone you know you can go to without a doubt for anything, and she's been one of mine. I like to think that I've helped her out of some pretty tough situations, situations that if left without help could have led to things she couldn't take back. While there's no such thing as a "cure" for all of this, for everything that's "wrong" with us, there is such a thing as feeling better. Because each day we don't succumb to that darkness inside of us is one more good day under our belts.
She's going through so much right now. None of which I'm sharing out of her right to privacy, and it's not my story to tell. But I will say that it's all very hard, harder than I've ever gone through. That's the truth.
For you, because I know you're reading: no matter how bad things get, no matter how much you're struggling and think it's hopeless, no matter how much you want to give up, no matter the times you give in to that terrible addiction, I will always be there. Understand that. I'm not going anywhere. You could never annoy me. You could never scare me off. You're the sibling I never had, and I love you. I see so much of myself in you. But just know I'm here.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Not the desperate type...
You know what's terrifying? The moment when you realize you don't care if you lived or died.
It's not like how I was before, when I actually thought about how to die. There are just moments, more frequently occurring than they have been in the not-too-distant past. The pressure is back, too. That pressure in my chest I get from a broken heart. It's funny; they say emotions are all in the brain, just neurons firing. But then why does my heart feel so heavy? And it's not like last time, where I lost the person I thought was the love of my life. And it's not because of the sky being cloudy, because while it's cold (which I love), the sky's a light blue. I'm not fighting with any of my friends. There's no bad in my life. So why am I like this?
After the Mitchell thing the other day, the pain came back. Then I got stupid and creeped on Blair's Facebook. And then I read Graham's old Twitter. Then I stopped and tried to do homework, and I don't know I just got really sad. I was really sad earlier last week too but it went away. Now it's been the third consecutive day I feel like this. But back to the other day. I instantly dropped really low, lower than I've been in a really, really long time. I cried myself sick. I debated between washing my face and changing to go workout or just shower, but I knew if I got in the shower at that point the urge to cut was too strong. And I felt too exhausted (inside and out) to do anything athletic. So, I had myself a dilemma. TJ was at work, Chels was at work, Jenna was at work. No other real-life friends to call. So I tweeted, and texted Hannah (Trick), to little avail (she did text me a few minutes later, but at the time it felt like forever). And right as I was about to jump in the shower, Tiernan (met him on Twitter through Patrick Stump, we've been talking ever since. He lives in Ireland) tweeted me about getting on Skype. We talked for almost an hour, and I felt a bunch better so that by the time I showered, I left unscathed. It truly amazes me that he called, since it was almost midnight his time (he's five hours ahead), but I'm thankful regardless.
That was probably the worst day I've had in a very long time. Hardest to get through without doing something about it. But I did it. And no, I'm not the desperate type, but when I need help and know I need help, I'm not above asking for it. Because as much as I love helping people, and as much time I devote to helping them, sometimes I need a little help too. And now I know there's at least one or two people who are fail-safes, who not only are there no matter what but completely and totally understand this.
As of this moment in time, I'm feeling okay, but throughout today it was pretty bad. But not like Monday night. I just want to finish out the week because then it's Thanksgiving break, and I don't have school for nine days (total. only one school week off though). I'll get reacquainted with Sleep. Maybe write a bit. Who knows.
Love,
Caitlyn
It's not like how I was before, when I actually thought about how to die. There are just moments, more frequently occurring than they have been in the not-too-distant past. The pressure is back, too. That pressure in my chest I get from a broken heart. It's funny; they say emotions are all in the brain, just neurons firing. But then why does my heart feel so heavy? And it's not like last time, where I lost the person I thought was the love of my life. And it's not because of the sky being cloudy, because while it's cold (which I love), the sky's a light blue. I'm not fighting with any of my friends. There's no bad in my life. So why am I like this?
After the Mitchell thing the other day, the pain came back. Then I got stupid and creeped on Blair's Facebook. And then I read Graham's old Twitter. Then I stopped and tried to do homework, and I don't know I just got really sad. I was really sad earlier last week too but it went away. Now it's been the third consecutive day I feel like this. But back to the other day. I instantly dropped really low, lower than I've been in a really, really long time. I cried myself sick. I debated between washing my face and changing to go workout or just shower, but I knew if I got in the shower at that point the urge to cut was too strong. And I felt too exhausted (inside and out) to do anything athletic. So, I had myself a dilemma. TJ was at work, Chels was at work, Jenna was at work. No other real-life friends to call. So I tweeted, and texted Hannah (Trick), to little avail (she did text me a few minutes later, but at the time it felt like forever). And right as I was about to jump in the shower, Tiernan (met him on Twitter through Patrick Stump, we've been talking ever since. He lives in Ireland) tweeted me about getting on Skype. We talked for almost an hour, and I felt a bunch better so that by the time I showered, I left unscathed. It truly amazes me that he called, since it was almost midnight his time (he's five hours ahead), but I'm thankful regardless.
That was probably the worst day I've had in a very long time. Hardest to get through without doing something about it. But I did it. And no, I'm not the desperate type, but when I need help and know I need help, I'm not above asking for it. Because as much as I love helping people, and as much time I devote to helping them, sometimes I need a little help too. And now I know there's at least one or two people who are fail-safes, who not only are there no matter what but completely and totally understand this.
As of this moment in time, I'm feeling okay, but throughout today it was pretty bad. But not like Monday night. I just want to finish out the week because then it's Thanksgiving break, and I don't have school for nine days (total. only one school week off though). I'll get reacquainted with Sleep. Maybe write a bit. Who knows.
Love,
Caitlyn
Monday, November 12, 2012
"Bye."
No I'm not leaving this blog yet.
I never thought in a million years that it'd hurt this bad for someone to say "bye" to me. And it sucks.
I've been trying to see Mitchell in person to say some things. Things like"I'm sorry" and "I'd like to start over as friends." Shit like that. And he's been going back and forth from "I kiss you so much" to "I don't want anything to do with you" to "hunn" to "Caitlyn." And today it was "Caitlyn."
I'm sorry I want to apologize and have wanted to FOR YEARS. I'm sorry that two other people I've loved dearly left my life without closure, and that makes me need some kind of closure (or friendship) with him. But come on.
So just now I tried to get him to come to Starbucks with me and study. Catch up. Get reacquainted. But naturally right now he's against it. I decided to confront him instead of let it go because frankly I'm tired of letting things go. I'm tired of watching people leave for no reason and without proper information. I'm tired of losing people I care about.
After much confrontation, I said what's in the picture (I'm posting this from my phone so I don't know where the picture will be but it's on this post somewhere). And I haven't gotten a response. But I'm lying in my bed, debating what to do. Homework? Feel sorry for myself? Sleep? Workout? Long hot shower? I feel like I did whenever I heard from Graham. Stomach knots and nausea and hot flashes. You know, bad nerves. I hate that I know he's mad and not talking to me, just like Graham isn't talking to me. Like Jimmy isn't talking to me
Guess I gotta learn to accept things as they are. Accept what I cannot change. I can't force him to meet me and talk. I can't force him to stop being angry. But I apologized and I meant it. And maybe I'll hear from him again. I don't know (he hasn't deleted me yet). I'll be okay if I don't though. It's something I'm used to now.
As I'm lying here, for some reason on the brink of tears, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I don't want TJ and me becoming like this. Never. I refuse to let it.
Love,
Caitlyn
I never thought in a million years that it'd hurt this bad for someone to say "bye" to me. And it sucks.
I've been trying to see Mitchell in person to say some things. Things like"I'm sorry" and "I'd like to start over as friends." Shit like that. And he's been going back and forth from "I kiss you so much" to "I don't want anything to do with you" to "hunn" to "Caitlyn." And today it was "Caitlyn."
I'm sorry I want to apologize and have wanted to FOR YEARS. I'm sorry that two other people I've loved dearly left my life without closure, and that makes me need some kind of closure (or friendship) with him. But come on.
So just now I tried to get him to come to Starbucks with me and study. Catch up. Get reacquainted. But naturally right now he's against it. I decided to confront him instead of let it go because frankly I'm tired of letting things go. I'm tired of watching people leave for no reason and without proper information. I'm tired of losing people I care about.
After much confrontation, I said what's in the picture (I'm posting this from my phone so I don't know where the picture will be but it's on this post somewhere). And I haven't gotten a response. But I'm lying in my bed, debating what to do. Homework? Feel sorry for myself? Sleep? Workout? Long hot shower? I feel like I did whenever I heard from Graham. Stomach knots and nausea and hot flashes. You know, bad nerves. I hate that I know he's mad and not talking to me, just like Graham isn't talking to me. Like Jimmy isn't talking to me
Guess I gotta learn to accept things as they are. Accept what I cannot change. I can't force him to meet me and talk. I can't force him to stop being angry. But I apologized and I meant it. And maybe I'll hear from him again. I don't know (he hasn't deleted me yet). I'll be okay if I don't though. It's something I'm used to now.
As I'm lying here, for some reason on the brink of tears, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I don't want TJ and me becoming like this. Never. I refuse to let it.
Love,
Caitlyn
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Winding Down
Today's been a really bad day. I don't know if it was because I was late getting out the door, spilling coffee all over myself, realizing I had nowhere near enough gas to get me to or from school (and so I had to scrape up enough money for a gallon. maybe), or barely making it to school on time, but it just was. And then everyone at school was fucking ridiculous and all my teachers were in really bad moods and just UGH. You know, one of those days.
Then today's election day and I'm terrified Romney will be elected over Obama. While I understand that his ideas and plans and promises mean nothing without congressional approval, to have a leader of my country who doesn't believe in women's rights, universal (low cost too) healthcare, marriage equality, the importance of educators, and easy access in students loans is absolutely ridiculous and unacceptable. These are the issues that speak to me, but those aren't the only ones that ensure me that Obama will do a better job in his second term than Romney in his first. This is 2012, not the Cold War! But not according to Romney's foreign policy. And yes, we need jobs, our unemployment is high, and Romney will create more numerically but NOT enough quality. Because there are too many college graduates, skilled workers, and people with other types of job experience to work on construction sites and in factories. We don't need to focus on manufacturing anymore. On an unrelated note, Obama's cooler. Any presidential candidate who can be easily made fun of to the point of pedophilia references should not be elected.
And then Mitchell's back. Earlier last week I was having coffee with Jenna and Chelsi (who's friends with Mitch on Facebook) and she showed me that "17 minutes ago" he was single. And so I impulsively decided to "friend" him again (in case I didn't post it last time, he unfriended me a few months ago because his girlfriend at the time didn't like him coming on to me). Within 2 minutes he accepted it, and we talked a couple days after. Then he confided in me all the problems he was having and his new [bad terrible addictive] habits, and then the other day when I tried to set a date to have coffee and talk about things he said it was a bad idea, not explaining why, and he hasn't said anything since. Like, seriously? I just want to help the poor kid. I feel terrible for what I did to him (even though it was nearly four years ago), and I've always wanted to make up for that. But he's never let me, not then and apparently not now. But while he hasn't talked to me, he has yet to unfriend me (yet again), so I don't even know what to think. It's just ridiculous.
Then TJ was supposed to come over after he ran some errands today but before he went to the polls (he turned 18 this past Saturday). By the time I got the text message from him saying he wasn't coming, today was already shot. And him not being here isn't any better. I'm just tired. Done. I recognize that this could just be the day but yesterday was kinda like this too. I'm ready for this year to be over. I'm ready for December 15 so I can hear from Rochester, because I'm terrified that I won't get in despite how in love I am with it. I'm scared to death that I'm going to be stuck here in Florida at least for the next six years because I hate it here for so many reasons. I'm ready to leave and it's a very real possibility that I won't be able to for awhile.
But some good news. Not only has TJ been accepted into IIT (Illinois Institute of Technology), but he received a scholarship totaling $100,000 ($20,000 per year for five years)! I could not be more excited and proud for him. That's his top choice university, and he's going to be able to go. It's amazing. Love that I get to share this with him. My only wish is that I can soon share his excitement with some of my own.
Anyway. Better go. Just tired.
Love,
Caitlyn
Then today's election day and I'm terrified Romney will be elected over Obama. While I understand that his ideas and plans and promises mean nothing without congressional approval, to have a leader of my country who doesn't believe in women's rights, universal (low cost too) healthcare, marriage equality, the importance of educators, and easy access in students loans is absolutely ridiculous and unacceptable. These are the issues that speak to me, but those aren't the only ones that ensure me that Obama will do a better job in his second term than Romney in his first. This is 2012, not the Cold War! But not according to Romney's foreign policy. And yes, we need jobs, our unemployment is high, and Romney will create more numerically but NOT enough quality. Because there are too many college graduates, skilled workers, and people with other types of job experience to work on construction sites and in factories. We don't need to focus on manufacturing anymore. On an unrelated note, Obama's cooler. Any presidential candidate who can be easily made fun of to the point of pedophilia references should not be elected.
And then Mitchell's back. Earlier last week I was having coffee with Jenna and Chelsi (who's friends with Mitch on Facebook) and she showed me that "17 minutes ago" he was single. And so I impulsively decided to "friend" him again (in case I didn't post it last time, he unfriended me a few months ago because his girlfriend at the time didn't like him coming on to me). Within 2 minutes he accepted it, and we talked a couple days after. Then he confided in me all the problems he was having and his new [bad terrible addictive] habits, and then the other day when I tried to set a date to have coffee and talk about things he said it was a bad idea, not explaining why, and he hasn't said anything since. Like, seriously? I just want to help the poor kid. I feel terrible for what I did to him (even though it was nearly four years ago), and I've always wanted to make up for that. But he's never let me, not then and apparently not now. But while he hasn't talked to me, he has yet to unfriend me (yet again), so I don't even know what to think. It's just ridiculous.
Then TJ was supposed to come over after he ran some errands today but before he went to the polls (he turned 18 this past Saturday). By the time I got the text message from him saying he wasn't coming, today was already shot. And him not being here isn't any better. I'm just tired. Done. I recognize that this could just be the day but yesterday was kinda like this too. I'm ready for this year to be over. I'm ready for December 15 so I can hear from Rochester, because I'm terrified that I won't get in despite how in love I am with it. I'm scared to death that I'm going to be stuck here in Florida at least for the next six years because I hate it here for so many reasons. I'm ready to leave and it's a very real possibility that I won't be able to for awhile.
But some good news. Not only has TJ been accepted into IIT (Illinois Institute of Technology), but he received a scholarship totaling $100,000 ($20,000 per year for five years)! I could not be more excited and proud for him. That's his top choice university, and he's going to be able to go. It's amazing. Love that I get to share this with him. My only wish is that I can soon share his excitement with some of my own.
Anyway. Better go. Just tired.
Love,
Caitlyn
Monday, October 1, 2012
Five Years
I remember reading in an article in middle school about self-harm roughly around the time I started. This was in 2007, and cutting was just becoming more well-known and recognized (in my mind, anyway). In it, there was a statistics box that said on average, people who self-harm continue to self-harm or feel the urge to for five years. At twelve years old, I couldn't imagine what five years from then would be like. Seventeen felt like a lifetime away.
Here was me at twelve: utterly obsessive Fall Out Boy fangirl. Completely smitten with a guy who looked like Patrick Stump and didn't give a shit about me. I was just beginning to address my daddy issues. I spent pretty much every waking hour writing, whether is was FOB fanfiction or poems or random stories. I threw myself into music. Half my wardrobe was band t-shirts. I just learned about TWLOHA and bought some of their stuff. I loved black. I lost all my close friends in real life. I started my love affair with the internet. But the most important part? I started cutting.
I know I have a cutting post on here somewhere, probably close to my suicidal confession or in the latter part of 2010. But this one is different. This time of year marks "the end," so to speak, of my five years.
Hindsight is 20/20. The beginning of my cutting was slow, and within a year I was tearing apart my thighs on a daily basis. Thus began eighth grade, and I was with Graham. A long distance relationship was the last thing I needed, and I went maybe three months without cutting before it became all-consuming once again. Rather than a daily task, it became weekly or bi-weekly. It was something I looked forward to and found hope in when I shouldn't have. Then ninth grade; an utter hell. I kept up with the bi-weekly up until January of 2010, where my guilt overtook me and I was cutting more often than I care to admit. And then tenth grade: skipped cutting, headed straight for death by overdose (failed). But I didn't cut for awhile. Maybe six months. Despite the complete crap Graham was giving me, I was content with plotting my demise and didn't need a physical release of emotion cutting allowed me. Nothing for awhile in 2011, not until Graham and I were arguing about possibly meeting up at my UNC visit. A year after our break-up, I knew no one wanted to hear my complaints or listen to my rants, and I turned once again to the blade. Now? Senior year, and the last time I cut was in November of 2011, almost a year ago.
In all that time, I thought a lot. Thought about wanting to cut more, go further down my thigh. Thought about how ashamed I was of it. Thought about how incapable I felt of emotional expression. But one of my more recurring thoughts in the last five years has been of the one and only Renee Yohe.
For those of you who are unfamiliar, Renee is the reason To Write Love On Her Arms exists. She's the writer of book/journal/memoir "Purpose for the Pain" that I posted about in 2010 to get my mind on something inspirational and off of my shattered heart. And currently, she's Bearcat (music artist). Amazing voice, even better message.
Getting ahead of myself. Anyway, I thought about her fairly often. In addition to cutting, she was addicted to a number of substances and attempted suicide a few times. And, in line with the TWLOHA story they have posted on their website (twloha.org), she chose to get help. She's quite sober now, I think something like seven years, and I always admired that about her. It's one of the reasons I want the name "Renee" to be part of my first-born daughter's name: her strength, perseverance, and humbleness. Even though Renee had no idea who I was, she's very much a part of my story. This story. I'll be lucky if I turn out to be a tiny fraction of the woman she's become. Then I heard she was making music and going on tour in my area (and doing VIP stuff), and I knew I would go. Didn't know how, but I was.
The show and meet-and-greet was last night in Orlando. I spent the month before (once I bought the bundle) planning what I was going to say. How I was going to act. The kind of outfit I'd wear. And of course, the plans got shot to hell when I got this massive migraine and all I could think of was how BAD my head was throbbing and how hard I was fighting not throwing up. And the day before, news broke that Patrick Stump got married, so I was still getting texts from that. Basically, I didn't have a clear head, and I was rambling about it. Wasn't focused, except for when Renee sang those two songs in her mini acoustic set. And as we all know, rambling in combination with already socially awkward tendencies are bad. Especially when it's only you, one of your greatest inspirations, her guitarist, your boyfriend, and one other girl in the room. And you're making a fool of yourself but you can't stop it. I wanted to stay for the show more than anything, but I probably would've had a stroke or something, so TJ (bless his heart...and his patience) took me home.
I would do SO many things differently. I would've taken more medication throughout the day. I would've consumed more caffeine. I would've had more water. I would've eaten better. I would've gone into that venue and introduced myself as soon as I saw her (though in the real situation, I think I did a pretty decent job when I apologized for the million and one questions I'd been asking over Twitter). I would've smiled more. I would've put that damn migraine aside for fifteen minutes and used my brain to think of better questions to ask. I would've complimented her voice more, told her how beautiful and unique it was. I would've cut out every single reference to Fall Out Boy and Patrick Stump that I made or almost made or wanted to make and focused on her more than I was already. I would've told her outright how she's helped me in my story, or even just how inspirational she is. I would've asked how she felt about her story helping so many people. I would've asked about her tattoos. I would've fought to stay to watch her set at nine that night, even if that meant a nap in the parked car and more coffee on the ride home.
I thought meeting her, doing all of that yesterday, and writing this was the right way to celebrate a year, the longest I've ever gone (before it was nine months, I believe). To celebrate the end of the apparently crucial five years. But I know it's not that easy. There are some days I think about cutting, other days where I want to do it so badly but don't. I have friends who still do, and that makes it all the harder to resist. As much as I want to help them, I really can't help because I've been there. I can tell them not to, encourage them to share their feelings with me, talk things out, suggest other outlets, but I know that when you're caught in that urge cycle, nothing is the same. Compared to five years ago, there aren't any other coping mechanisms that I came up with or that a psychologist told me to use that I didn't know then. The only difference is my ability to feel, and that wasn't learned: that was brought out of me by someone I loved and trusted with my life (and though he's no longer in my life and he hurt me so deeply, I will always be indebted to him for what he did for me).
Best be off to bed. A month since my last post so here's some updates. I got into UCF (finishing up my Honors application), and I've switched to Early Decision for UofR. Senioritis is hitting hard now, and the first quarter isn't even over yet. Most importantly, I'm happy. And it may seem as though I'm trying to convince myself of that, I'm not. I just can't get over being happy yet, and I'm really excited about it. Loving life.
Love,
Caitlyn
Here was me at twelve: utterly obsessive Fall Out Boy fangirl. Completely smitten with a guy who looked like Patrick Stump and didn't give a shit about me. I was just beginning to address my daddy issues. I spent pretty much every waking hour writing, whether is was FOB fanfiction or poems or random stories. I threw myself into music. Half my wardrobe was band t-shirts. I just learned about TWLOHA and bought some of their stuff. I loved black. I lost all my close friends in real life. I started my love affair with the internet. But the most important part? I started cutting.
I know I have a cutting post on here somewhere, probably close to my suicidal confession or in the latter part of 2010. But this one is different. This time of year marks "the end," so to speak, of my five years.
Hindsight is 20/20. The beginning of my cutting was slow, and within a year I was tearing apart my thighs on a daily basis. Thus began eighth grade, and I was with Graham. A long distance relationship was the last thing I needed, and I went maybe three months without cutting before it became all-consuming once again. Rather than a daily task, it became weekly or bi-weekly. It was something I looked forward to and found hope in when I shouldn't have. Then ninth grade; an utter hell. I kept up with the bi-weekly up until January of 2010, where my guilt overtook me and I was cutting more often than I care to admit. And then tenth grade: skipped cutting, headed straight for death by overdose (failed). But I didn't cut for awhile. Maybe six months. Despite the complete crap Graham was giving me, I was content with plotting my demise and didn't need a physical release of emotion cutting allowed me. Nothing for awhile in 2011, not until Graham and I were arguing about possibly meeting up at my UNC visit. A year after our break-up, I knew no one wanted to hear my complaints or listen to my rants, and I turned once again to the blade. Now? Senior year, and the last time I cut was in November of 2011, almost a year ago.
In all that time, I thought a lot. Thought about wanting to cut more, go further down my thigh. Thought about how ashamed I was of it. Thought about how incapable I felt of emotional expression. But one of my more recurring thoughts in the last five years has been of the one and only Renee Yohe.
For those of you who are unfamiliar, Renee is the reason To Write Love On Her Arms exists. She's the writer of book/journal/memoir "Purpose for the Pain" that I posted about in 2010 to get my mind on something inspirational and off of my shattered heart. And currently, she's Bearcat (music artist). Amazing voice, even better message.
Getting ahead of myself. Anyway, I thought about her fairly often. In addition to cutting, she was addicted to a number of substances and attempted suicide a few times. And, in line with the TWLOHA story they have posted on their website (twloha.org), she chose to get help. She's quite sober now, I think something like seven years, and I always admired that about her. It's one of the reasons I want the name "Renee" to be part of my first-born daughter's name: her strength, perseverance, and humbleness. Even though Renee had no idea who I was, she's very much a part of my story. This story. I'll be lucky if I turn out to be a tiny fraction of the woman she's become. Then I heard she was making music and going on tour in my area (and doing VIP stuff), and I knew I would go. Didn't know how, but I was.
The show and meet-and-greet was last night in Orlando. I spent the month before (once I bought the bundle) planning what I was going to say. How I was going to act. The kind of outfit I'd wear. And of course, the plans got shot to hell when I got this massive migraine and all I could think of was how BAD my head was throbbing and how hard I was fighting not throwing up. And the day before, news broke that Patrick Stump got married, so I was still getting texts from that. Basically, I didn't have a clear head, and I was rambling about it. Wasn't focused, except for when Renee sang those two songs in her mini acoustic set. And as we all know, rambling in combination with already socially awkward tendencies are bad. Especially when it's only you, one of your greatest inspirations, her guitarist, your boyfriend, and one other girl in the room. And you're making a fool of yourself but you can't stop it. I wanted to stay for the show more than anything, but I probably would've had a stroke or something, so TJ (bless his heart...and his patience) took me home.
I would do SO many things differently. I would've taken more medication throughout the day. I would've consumed more caffeine. I would've had more water. I would've eaten better. I would've gone into that venue and introduced myself as soon as I saw her (though in the real situation, I think I did a pretty decent job when I apologized for the million and one questions I'd been asking over Twitter). I would've smiled more. I would've put that damn migraine aside for fifteen minutes and used my brain to think of better questions to ask. I would've complimented her voice more, told her how beautiful and unique it was. I would've cut out every single reference to Fall Out Boy and Patrick Stump that I made or almost made or wanted to make and focused on her more than I was already. I would've told her outright how she's helped me in my story, or even just how inspirational she is. I would've asked how she felt about her story helping so many people. I would've asked about her tattoos. I would've fought to stay to watch her set at nine that night, even if that meant a nap in the parked car and more coffee on the ride home.
I thought meeting her, doing all of that yesterday, and writing this was the right way to celebrate a year, the longest I've ever gone (before it was nine months, I believe). To celebrate the end of the apparently crucial five years. But I know it's not that easy. There are some days I think about cutting, other days where I want to do it so badly but don't. I have friends who still do, and that makes it all the harder to resist. As much as I want to help them, I really can't help because I've been there. I can tell them not to, encourage them to share their feelings with me, talk things out, suggest other outlets, but I know that when you're caught in that urge cycle, nothing is the same. Compared to five years ago, there aren't any other coping mechanisms that I came up with or that a psychologist told me to use that I didn't know then. The only difference is my ability to feel, and that wasn't learned: that was brought out of me by someone I loved and trusted with my life (and though he's no longer in my life and he hurt me so deeply, I will always be indebted to him for what he did for me).
Best be off to bed. A month since my last post so here's some updates. I got into UCF (finishing up my Honors application), and I've switched to Early Decision for UofR. Senioritis is hitting hard now, and the first quarter isn't even over yet. Most importantly, I'm happy. And it may seem as though I'm trying to convince myself of that, I'm not. I just can't get over being happy yet, and I'm really excited about it. Loving life.
Love,
Caitlyn
Sunday, September 2, 2012
My Heart
Bet you all thought I was gonna talk about my emotions and feelings, not the beating organ inside of my chest.
It's been acting up lately. Intense, internal pressure and pain, random increases in beat, skipping beats. Not to mention the migraine headaches I've been having, the constant fatigue even after 11 hours of sleep, shaky hands, and dizziness. Not fun, and definitely not things I should be experiencing at 17 years old.
I've always known I would have heart issues eventually. My grandpa Holly died from a heart attack, my Meme had to have open heart surgery, my Poppy had high cholesterol and clogged arteries, and my dad has had plenty heart attack scares. I just figured that my family history wouldn't be relevant until I was about retirement age.
On doing some research inspired by a tv special about IVF (in-vitro fertilization: how I was conceived) kids, I looked up possible side effects on just being born from IVF. In addition to possible inheriting my parents' infertility (which alone scares the fuck out of me), the chemical reactions necessary in IVF have led to heart issues in children. Well fuck.
But wait; there's more! And it starts with a story. When I was first prescribed my birth control Yaz in 2009, it was pretty much brand new, so long-term side effects weren't released or exactly known yet. And with my eventual sexual activity, plus the pros of it decreasing acne and period flow/other symptoms, I jumped on it. Three years later, commercials are everywhere talking about blood clots, strokes, and heart problems in people who take Yaz, Yasmin, or BeYaz. The first commercial was in June, and I hadn't felt any of the things I mentioned earlier in this post. But then they started, and I got more worried, and then the symptoms became more frequent to the point of being daily.
Naturally, my mom took me to the doctor, who didn't like what I was describing. She did an EKG (normal) and ordered a 24-hour heart monitor (no results until later this week), all preluding a chest x-ray. I won't hear anything for another few days, at which point I'm going in with my mom to discuss changing birth control methods. Out of the many types of pills that are available for me to take, why do I have to take Yaz? I like the less acne thing, but I think I can deal with it for the sake of permanent health. Girls my age are going blind, having strokes, and dying from blood clots, with no common medical anything except for their birth control. And that is, understandably, terrifying. Ultimately, the decision is up to me whether or not I keep taking Yaz or if I change prescribed methods. As of now, I'm seriously debating getting off these hormones altogether in favor of condoms (the good ones, of course. Hello, Trojan Charged!). Too many long-term issues associated with the "cure" (only 99% at best) for a short-term issue (getting pregnant now: bad. Getting pregnant in like, 6 or 7 years: good). TJ will just have to bear with me on the condoms though, but I'm sure he'll be okay with it (the longer he lasts, the longer I get to go [tmi?]).
On other, happier notes! School's doing well. 16 more weeks this semester. Whew. College apps are done except for things out of my control (counselor requests...) and I'll be hearing back from them any day now. Cleaned up my future wedding plans (SO MAD DAVID'S BRIDAL GOT RID OF MY DAISY BUBBLES) and have a new IKEA obsession (all my basic furniture is all picked out, right down to baby #1's room). Prom dress is done, too, and it's a Taylor Swift-inspired design by Faviana in red. It's very old Hollywood glamour, and clexy (classic and sexy, courtesy of Say Yes to the Dress). There's even a slit that goes up my thigh. AND sweetheart neckline? You can't do better than that.
'Tis all for now. I'm thinking about switching over to my post-high school blog early, since it's synced with my current email, but this is supposed to be a high school memoir, and I'm still in high school until June. We'll see. At the very least, I'll do some crossover when I start registering for dorms and enrolling and doing all the exciting funding stuff, potential apartment searching, and everything else college-related I have to do in the last months of high school.
Love,
Caitlyn
It's been acting up lately. Intense, internal pressure and pain, random increases in beat, skipping beats. Not to mention the migraine headaches I've been having, the constant fatigue even after 11 hours of sleep, shaky hands, and dizziness. Not fun, and definitely not things I should be experiencing at 17 years old.
I've always known I would have heart issues eventually. My grandpa Holly died from a heart attack, my Meme had to have open heart surgery, my Poppy had high cholesterol and clogged arteries, and my dad has had plenty heart attack scares. I just figured that my family history wouldn't be relevant until I was about retirement age.
On doing some research inspired by a tv special about IVF (in-vitro fertilization: how I was conceived) kids, I looked up possible side effects on just being born from IVF. In addition to possible inheriting my parents' infertility (which alone scares the fuck out of me), the chemical reactions necessary in IVF have led to heart issues in children. Well fuck.
But wait; there's more! And it starts with a story. When I was first prescribed my birth control Yaz in 2009, it was pretty much brand new, so long-term side effects weren't released or exactly known yet. And with my eventual sexual activity, plus the pros of it decreasing acne and period flow/other symptoms, I jumped on it. Three years later, commercials are everywhere talking about blood clots, strokes, and heart problems in people who take Yaz, Yasmin, or BeYaz. The first commercial was in June, and I hadn't felt any of the things I mentioned earlier in this post. But then they started, and I got more worried, and then the symptoms became more frequent to the point of being daily.
Naturally, my mom took me to the doctor, who didn't like what I was describing. She did an EKG (normal) and ordered a 24-hour heart monitor (no results until later this week), all preluding a chest x-ray. I won't hear anything for another few days, at which point I'm going in with my mom to discuss changing birth control methods. Out of the many types of pills that are available for me to take, why do I have to take Yaz? I like the less acne thing, but I think I can deal with it for the sake of permanent health. Girls my age are going blind, having strokes, and dying from blood clots, with no common medical anything except for their birth control. And that is, understandably, terrifying. Ultimately, the decision is up to me whether or not I keep taking Yaz or if I change prescribed methods. As of now, I'm seriously debating getting off these hormones altogether in favor of condoms (the good ones, of course. Hello, Trojan Charged!). Too many long-term issues associated with the "cure" (only 99% at best) for a short-term issue (getting pregnant now: bad. Getting pregnant in like, 6 or 7 years: good). TJ will just have to bear with me on the condoms though, but I'm sure he'll be okay with it (the longer he lasts, the longer I get to go [tmi?]).
On other, happier notes! School's doing well. 16 more weeks this semester. Whew. College apps are done except for things out of my control (counselor requests...) and I'll be hearing back from them any day now. Cleaned up my future wedding plans (SO MAD DAVID'S BRIDAL GOT RID OF MY DAISY BUBBLES) and have a new IKEA obsession (all my basic furniture is all picked out, right down to baby #1's room). Prom dress is done, too, and it's a Taylor Swift-inspired design by Faviana in red. It's very old Hollywood glamour, and clexy (classic and sexy, courtesy of Say Yes to the Dress). There's even a slit that goes up my thigh. AND sweetheart neckline? You can't do better than that.
'Tis all for now. I'm thinking about switching over to my post-high school blog early, since it's synced with my current email, but this is supposed to be a high school memoir, and I'm still in high school until June. We'll see. At the very least, I'll do some crossover when I start registering for dorms and enrolling and doing all the exciting funding stuff, potential apartment searching, and everything else college-related I have to do in the last months of high school.
Love,
Caitlyn
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Blink and You'll Miss It
Almost a month since my last post. Just a reminder of how fast time can pass a person.
I finished my class with an A, which translates to a 4.0 in the Rochester system, and 4 credit hours for the course. YES! My college applications are complete, with the exceptions of the teacher and counselor recommendations (ugh), the mid-year report (which I clearly can't do until, well, mid-year), and the DePaul supplement (which doesn't go live until September 1). I'll hear back from UCF in the coming couple weeks, DePaul by December, and Rochester in February, basically. My patience is truly being tested and IT'S DRIVING ME CRAZY!!!!!! I mean, here I am trying to focus on school and stuff and all I can think about 24/7 is college. Damn it to hell it's consuming my life piece by piece.
Not like I've been giving a rat's ass about school right now anyway. I still work hard and put my effort into my work, but that's only because I know colleges are gonna get a mid-year and final review for my grades; I'd like those reviews to reflect similar work to the last few years. That'd be nice. At this point, high school is a joke, a means to an end. While all the senior power stuff is fun and I enjoy the special privileges, it's nothing compared to Rochester. But I'll get there. I don't even care how. As of this moment, I don't care if I had to go into massive amounts of debt I'd go anyway, especially if I got accepted into GRADE (who would pay off any and all loans I had while doing my internship).
Seeing Brianne and Sasha when they picked me up from Rochester was quite fun, especially since I got my first taste of real food in a month with yum. Cheesy jalapeno quesadilla; woo! They were gracious enough to come save me in my hour of need, as my dad's connection from Baltimore was cancelled and he couldn't pick me up. That means I had to fly back home by myself, for the first time ever. The whole process was quite easy and even a little enjoyable. Granted, we had assigned seats in business class (courtesy of my dad's frequent flier status), and because of his cancelled connection they allowed me to check in two bags so I wouldn't have a carry-on that I had to lift above the seats (I'm a weakling). But back to Sasha and Brianne. She shared some interesting stories about Japan, how different it was. It sounded amazing, and it makes me want even more to travel outside of the USA. There's a whole world out there that a lot of people either don't care about or can't experience, and if one day I'm able to I'm taking advantage of that ability. While she and I didn't get any one-on-one, I'm sure we'll get it one of these days. Especially if I go up north.
Being with TJ after all that time was amazing. Perfect, even. Now that I have my new room upstairs (no more man cave), we get to be alone uninterrupted, which I love. There was a lot of cuddling that day, even more the next day. I guess absence really does make the heart grow fonder. Makes a couple other things grow too (had to do it sorry). But even with the distance, I know that we could make it. It's one of the sure things in our relationship, and we have quite a few of those. He's everything I ever wanted and needed, and I don't know how I lasted for so long in my life without him. Hopefully I won't ever have to deal with a reality without him. We still have yet to experience certain things together, like daily life together and whatnot, but I really doubt there's anything I could learn about him that's new that would scare me away, or vice versa him learning about me. We've been very open with each other, and that's the foundation of a good relationship, amongst things like trust, love, and respect. We also are each other's best friend, which is equally as important. Being friends first and growing from that was extremely beneficial to us, and I recommend that for anyone "looking" for a relationship (although I don't recommend looking, period). Potential partners don't typically come from people you run into on the street and BAM you start dating; they're people you meet or have already met that become friends but have at least hidden feelings about each other. There just has to be a base.
I suppose that's about it. I'm sitting and waiting for this phase of my life to be over, because I certainly didn't choose to be here. After high school, anything else that happens to me will be completely up to me: where I live, where I go to school, what I study, what I do for myself. Everything is at my discretion and no one else's. I could care less about people telling me that being a teenager will pass in the blink of an eye and I'll wish I could get this time back. But high school is not the prime of my life, nor should it be the prime of anyone's life. I won't be missing it.
And now I'm exhausted. Funny after 9 hours of sleep last night and a 2 hour nap not too long ago. Bed time!
Love,
Caitlyn
I finished my class with an A, which translates to a 4.0 in the Rochester system, and 4 credit hours for the course. YES! My college applications are complete, with the exceptions of the teacher and counselor recommendations (ugh), the mid-year report (which I clearly can't do until, well, mid-year), and the DePaul supplement (which doesn't go live until September 1). I'll hear back from UCF in the coming couple weeks, DePaul by December, and Rochester in February, basically. My patience is truly being tested and IT'S DRIVING ME CRAZY!!!!!! I mean, here I am trying to focus on school and stuff and all I can think about 24/7 is college. Damn it to hell it's consuming my life piece by piece.
Not like I've been giving a rat's ass about school right now anyway. I still work hard and put my effort into my work, but that's only because I know colleges are gonna get a mid-year and final review for my grades; I'd like those reviews to reflect similar work to the last few years. That'd be nice. At this point, high school is a joke, a means to an end. While all the senior power stuff is fun and I enjoy the special privileges, it's nothing compared to Rochester. But I'll get there. I don't even care how. As of this moment, I don't care if I had to go into massive amounts of debt I'd go anyway, especially if I got accepted into GRADE (who would pay off any and all loans I had while doing my internship).
Seeing Brianne and Sasha when they picked me up from Rochester was quite fun, especially since I got my first taste of real food in a month with yum. Cheesy jalapeno quesadilla; woo! They were gracious enough to come save me in my hour of need, as my dad's connection from Baltimore was cancelled and he couldn't pick me up. That means I had to fly back home by myself, for the first time ever. The whole process was quite easy and even a little enjoyable. Granted, we had assigned seats in business class (courtesy of my dad's frequent flier status), and because of his cancelled connection they allowed me to check in two bags so I wouldn't have a carry-on that I had to lift above the seats (I'm a weakling). But back to Sasha and Brianne. She shared some interesting stories about Japan, how different it was. It sounded amazing, and it makes me want even more to travel outside of the USA. There's a whole world out there that a lot of people either don't care about or can't experience, and if one day I'm able to I'm taking advantage of that ability. While she and I didn't get any one-on-one, I'm sure we'll get it one of these days. Especially if I go up north.
Being with TJ after all that time was amazing. Perfect, even. Now that I have my new room upstairs (no more man cave), we get to be alone uninterrupted, which I love. There was a lot of cuddling that day, even more the next day. I guess absence really does make the heart grow fonder. Makes a couple other things grow too (had to do it sorry). But even with the distance, I know that we could make it. It's one of the sure things in our relationship, and we have quite a few of those. He's everything I ever wanted and needed, and I don't know how I lasted for so long in my life without him. Hopefully I won't ever have to deal with a reality without him. We still have yet to experience certain things together, like daily life together and whatnot, but I really doubt there's anything I could learn about him that's new that would scare me away, or vice versa him learning about me. We've been very open with each other, and that's the foundation of a good relationship, amongst things like trust, love, and respect. We also are each other's best friend, which is equally as important. Being friends first and growing from that was extremely beneficial to us, and I recommend that for anyone "looking" for a relationship (although I don't recommend looking, period). Potential partners don't typically come from people you run into on the street and BAM you start dating; they're people you meet or have already met that become friends but have at least hidden feelings about each other. There just has to be a base.
I suppose that's about it. I'm sitting and waiting for this phase of my life to be over, because I certainly didn't choose to be here. After high school, anything else that happens to me will be completely up to me: where I live, where I go to school, what I study, what I do for myself. Everything is at my discretion and no one else's. I could care less about people telling me that being a teenager will pass in the blink of an eye and I'll wish I could get this time back. But high school is not the prime of my life, nor should it be the prime of anyone's life. I won't be missing it.
And now I'm exhausted. Funny after 9 hours of sleep last night and a 2 hour nap not too long ago. Bed time!
Love,
Caitlyn
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
3, 2, 1...
Tonight is the first night of the rest of my life.
Okay maybe that was a tad dramatic just to say that the Common Application starts tonight at midnight. I will definitely be awake and applying to my last two universities as soon as I'm able. Then I can sit back, relax, and focus on my school work. I don't need the added stress right now.
I got this package in the mail today. TJ had told me he was sending me something, but he never really said exactly what was in it. I mean, I demanded Whales (the cracker that's a million times better than Goldfish), but the rest was up to him. I found old pajama pants, a pair of boxers, and a t-shirt from when he played for the local baseball team. And I almost cried.
When he isn't around and I'm by myself, or I know we won't see each other for awhile, or when I'm just down, I throw on something of his that he's given me. So far I've had two sweaters, Coca-Cola pants, and a pair of boxers. I brought the pants and boxers with me; the sweaters would've been too warm. For the last three weeks, I've worn the pants and boxers first once they went through the laundry because I miss him so much. And what does he do? Send me more. So incredibly sweet. Definitely showering early tonight and throwing on the tee and the "new" pants to wear around downstairs. I mean, is it just me who likes to throw on her boyfriend's clothes? Plenty of clothing companies advertise "boyfriend shirts" or "boyfriend jeans" to girls, not to mention I've met other girls who wear boxers as sleeping pants. It's just...comforting, especially when he can't be here.
Not like I really have to keep getting used to not having him around. Turns out he likes a local school in Rochester that has an architecture program he's fond of, and it ranks pretty high on his college list. Is it bad that I'm hoping for him to go to RIT in the scenario where I go to UR? It's weird. His top is IIT in Chicago, then RIT, then Penn State, then UF, and then UCF. As far as my top two go, the locations are switched. Ideally, we'll both go where we want to go regardless of the other person. I want to be happy where I go to college, and I want him happy, too. But is it such a terrible thing for me to want my top choice and him only get his second? He appears passive about the situation, although I don't buy it. Sometimes he's crazier about me than I am of him (and I'm pretty crazy about him in case you haven't noticed).
I wish I could teleport him here, but other than that I'm happy as can be. This place is perfect. I see myself everywhere. It's this weird feeling, actually, that I belong somewhere and that I'm meant to be there. That's my one wish, I guess: to have everyone experience this feeling. Truly amazing.
Today it's raining, and I refuse to run outside to Danforth just to not eat their crappy food so I'm watching the rain from my window whilst feeling the breeze from the storm. Kinda makes me want a nap and cuddle up in TJ's clothes instead of going out to a movie. Oh well.
Just a few more days! Then I get to see my super amazing cousin Brianne (who, from Japan, gave my blog 24 pageviews. 24!) and hang out and eat lunch with my dad and her and head on back to Florida where TJ will be waiting at the airport. He's so sweet.
Love,
Caitlyn
Okay maybe that was a tad dramatic just to say that the Common Application starts tonight at midnight. I will definitely be awake and applying to my last two universities as soon as I'm able. Then I can sit back, relax, and focus on my school work. I don't need the added stress right now.
I got this package in the mail today. TJ had told me he was sending me something, but he never really said exactly what was in it. I mean, I demanded Whales (the cracker that's a million times better than Goldfish), but the rest was up to him. I found old pajama pants, a pair of boxers, and a t-shirt from when he played for the local baseball team. And I almost cried.
When he isn't around and I'm by myself, or I know we won't see each other for awhile, or when I'm just down, I throw on something of his that he's given me. So far I've had two sweaters, Coca-Cola pants, and a pair of boxers. I brought the pants and boxers with me; the sweaters would've been too warm. For the last three weeks, I've worn the pants and boxers first once they went through the laundry because I miss him so much. And what does he do? Send me more. So incredibly sweet. Definitely showering early tonight and throwing on the tee and the "new" pants to wear around downstairs. I mean, is it just me who likes to throw on her boyfriend's clothes? Plenty of clothing companies advertise "boyfriend shirts" or "boyfriend jeans" to girls, not to mention I've met other girls who wear boxers as sleeping pants. It's just...comforting, especially when he can't be here.
Not like I really have to keep getting used to not having him around. Turns out he likes a local school in Rochester that has an architecture program he's fond of, and it ranks pretty high on his college list. Is it bad that I'm hoping for him to go to RIT in the scenario where I go to UR? It's weird. His top is IIT in Chicago, then RIT, then Penn State, then UF, and then UCF. As far as my top two go, the locations are switched. Ideally, we'll both go where we want to go regardless of the other person. I want to be happy where I go to college, and I want him happy, too. But is it such a terrible thing for me to want my top choice and him only get his second? He appears passive about the situation, although I don't buy it. Sometimes he's crazier about me than I am of him (and I'm pretty crazy about him in case you haven't noticed).
I wish I could teleport him here, but other than that I'm happy as can be. This place is perfect. I see myself everywhere. It's this weird feeling, actually, that I belong somewhere and that I'm meant to be there. That's my one wish, I guess: to have everyone experience this feeling. Truly amazing.
Today it's raining, and I refuse to run outside to Danforth just to not eat their crappy food so I'm watching the rain from my window whilst feeling the breeze from the storm. Kinda makes me want a nap and cuddle up in TJ's clothes instead of going out to a movie. Oh well.
Just a few more days! Then I get to see my super amazing cousin Brianne (who, from Japan, gave my blog 24 pageviews. 24!) and hang out and eat lunch with my dad and her and head on back to Florida where TJ will be waiting at the airport. He's so sweet.
Love,
Caitlyn
Monday, July 30, 2012
2AM
It's said on HIMYM that nothing good happens after 2AM and we should all just go to sleep. I beg to differ; good things can happen after 2AM.
First off, sleep. I'll hopefully be asleep after 2AM, preferably soon. I am extremely vulnerable to scary stories and images, both those actually displayed in front of me and those strung out in words that I see in my mind. And due to those stories tonight, I haven't been able to sleep. At least I got to catch up on some tv shows right? Right. Even though one of them was Pretty Little Liars and that show is sketchy when you're already susceptible to that kind of content.
Another good thing is that I have TJ on Skype with me, even though he's been asleep for the last hour or so (lucky bastard). But he's here, because he knows how creeped out I get (aka basically a nervous wreck), and it was his idea, so I'm very grateful. It's good to know that not only does he get me but he's there when I need him the most, even though he's a thousand miles away. I'm convinced that not only is this love real, but that it will last. I can only wish for how long. I'm lucky to have him, and believe me I'm thanking those lucky stars of mine. If there is a God, which we debate heavily in PHL 101, then He is certainly looking out for me by giving me TJ. And hey, if there isn't (at least, not in the Christian/heavily organized religious sense), then I'm still pretty damn lucky anyway. Not to mention I'm happy beyond belief. I'm sure I've said this before, but things feel right. For the first time in a long time I feel like things could actually work out, with minimal issues. Things are good right now, and I intend to keep them that way.
But back to it being after 2AM. I get the pleasure of sitting up and contemplating how glad I am to be alive, especially when I compare that to how I could've been dead. It would be two years since my death in September. My mom and dad would still be wrecks. TJ wouldn't know what went wrong but he'd have moved on. I'm not sure what to say about Jimmy (we're no longer Facebook friends, by my doing; the same happened between me and Sam). And Graham? I don't know. I honestly don't know. I can't even begin to speculate. He'd still be with Blair probably. Maybe he'd think of us differently than he does now, maybe I'd be the crazy ex who killed herself because she was stupid and let herself fall in love with a guy while they weren't ready, or maybe, just maybe, he'd feel a little guilty. Guilty over how he handled the break up. Guilty over everything that happened afterwards. Guilty for basically everything he did. And me? I'd be dead, and in whatever afterlife (if it exists) there would be for me; OR I could haunt his sorry ass (bahaha okay probably not but that'd be funny as hell). But, I'm alive. Graham is with Blair and probably thinks I'm crazy and is perfectly content without me and probably also never even thinks about me, ever. Jimmy is, well, Jimmy. Mom is Mom, and Dad is Dad. TJ is the guy I want in my life for however long he'll choose to have me. And I'm in Rochester, more confirmed than ever in my wanting to come here for the rest of my life, starting my freshman year of college.
2:15AM now. Hopefully ready to go to sleep but not quite ready to turn off my desk lamp, or my laptop. Watching the boy I love sleep because he loves me enough to want to keep me safe while thinking about how I'll be with him a week from now, back in his arms where I belong. Thinking about the homework I have to do once I get ready in the morning (and how stoked I am to have an A [94% on the exam!!!] in a college class).
Okay. Time for sleep. I'm not even sure any of what I said made sense but who cares. This is supposed to be a memoir about my experiences between the ages of 14-17. Then at 18, I switch over to my other blog that has been created but not quite yet customized. That's the one I'll use until...well, until blogging becomes something that doesn't exist anymore or Blogger dies. And then when my kids are old enough, I'll show them this "Story of a Girl." Not as bragging rights by any means, but to show them that things change and life goes on. I want to show them that their mother is human. Maybe they'll learn from my mistakes, and maybe they won't. It'll be their life, not mine. That's why it's story of A girl, not ALL girls. I am but one person who is and will be on this earth, and they will be a few more people who will live after I die. But, today, it's only me.
And I have class in 10 and a half hours, plus homework and plenty of other stuff in between. Yikes! Goodnight.
Love,
Caitlyn
First off, sleep. I'll hopefully be asleep after 2AM, preferably soon. I am extremely vulnerable to scary stories and images, both those actually displayed in front of me and those strung out in words that I see in my mind. And due to those stories tonight, I haven't been able to sleep. At least I got to catch up on some tv shows right? Right. Even though one of them was Pretty Little Liars and that show is sketchy when you're already susceptible to that kind of content.
Another good thing is that I have TJ on Skype with me, even though he's been asleep for the last hour or so (lucky bastard). But he's here, because he knows how creeped out I get (aka basically a nervous wreck), and it was his idea, so I'm very grateful. It's good to know that not only does he get me but he's there when I need him the most, even though he's a thousand miles away. I'm convinced that not only is this love real, but that it will last. I can only wish for how long. I'm lucky to have him, and believe me I'm thanking those lucky stars of mine. If there is a God, which we debate heavily in PHL 101, then He is certainly looking out for me by giving me TJ. And hey, if there isn't (at least, not in the Christian/heavily organized religious sense), then I'm still pretty damn lucky anyway. Not to mention I'm happy beyond belief. I'm sure I've said this before, but things feel right. For the first time in a long time I feel like things could actually work out, with minimal issues. Things are good right now, and I intend to keep them that way.
But back to it being after 2AM. I get the pleasure of sitting up and contemplating how glad I am to be alive, especially when I compare that to how I could've been dead. It would be two years since my death in September. My mom and dad would still be wrecks. TJ wouldn't know what went wrong but he'd have moved on. I'm not sure what to say about Jimmy (we're no longer Facebook friends, by my doing; the same happened between me and Sam). And Graham? I don't know. I honestly don't know. I can't even begin to speculate. He'd still be with Blair probably. Maybe he'd think of us differently than he does now, maybe I'd be the crazy ex who killed herself because she was stupid and let herself fall in love with a guy while they weren't ready, or maybe, just maybe, he'd feel a little guilty. Guilty over how he handled the break up. Guilty over everything that happened afterwards. Guilty for basically everything he did. And me? I'd be dead, and in whatever afterlife (if it exists) there would be for me; OR I could haunt his sorry ass (bahaha okay probably not but that'd be funny as hell). But, I'm alive. Graham is with Blair and probably thinks I'm crazy and is perfectly content without me and probably also never even thinks about me, ever. Jimmy is, well, Jimmy. Mom is Mom, and Dad is Dad. TJ is the guy I want in my life for however long he'll choose to have me. And I'm in Rochester, more confirmed than ever in my wanting to come here for the rest of my life, starting my freshman year of college.
2:15AM now. Hopefully ready to go to sleep but not quite ready to turn off my desk lamp, or my laptop. Watching the boy I love sleep because he loves me enough to want to keep me safe while thinking about how I'll be with him a week from now, back in his arms where I belong. Thinking about the homework I have to do once I get ready in the morning (and how stoked I am to have an A [94% on the exam!!!] in a college class).
Okay. Time for sleep. I'm not even sure any of what I said made sense but who cares. This is supposed to be a memoir about my experiences between the ages of 14-17. Then at 18, I switch over to my other blog that has been created but not quite yet customized. That's the one I'll use until...well, until blogging becomes something that doesn't exist anymore or Blogger dies. And then when my kids are old enough, I'll show them this "Story of a Girl." Not as bragging rights by any means, but to show them that things change and life goes on. I want to show them that their mother is human. Maybe they'll learn from my mistakes, and maybe they won't. It'll be their life, not mine. That's why it's story of A girl, not ALL girls. I am but one person who is and will be on this earth, and they will be a few more people who will live after I die. But, today, it's only me.
And I have class in 10 and a half hours, plus homework and plenty of other stuff in between. Yikes! Goodnight.
Love,
Caitlyn
Friday, July 13, 2012
Part 3: It's Only A Matter Of Time
Our third year of TIP together was coming to a close. Looking back, it was a pretty bad three weeks. I kept dropping hints about not wanting to stay together through high school, he kept getting upset, I threw Jimmy in his face. We're lucky we made it out alive.
My dad picked me up from campus that year, and he finally got to meet Graham's parents. It was quite the ordeal, and we all met up for lunch. Afterwards, he and his parents drove me to the airport. I knew then that it'd be the last time I'd see him for awhile, but I didn't really think it'd be the last time period. I started to cry, and while our parents were talking he hugged me. We kissed and held an embrace for not-long-enough, and then I left. The look on my dad's face was priceless: "She really wasn't kidding about this boy." After we got through security and were at our gate, Graham and I were texting, and apparently he didn't understand until I spelled out for him that we weren't going to see each other or be "actually together" until once he turned eighteen. He proceeded to ignore me until well after I got home.
Hell came in the next four weeks. We fought nearly daily. We broke up every few days to only get back together and break up again. The only "good" time was when we mourned the first year since losing what we believed was our baby girl. Otherwise, I was a mess, and I felt like he didn't understand where I was coming from. That last part was more my fault, though. I was keeping that I'd been talking to Jimmy from him, that we were planning on getting together. Since my mom didn't like me talking to him either at the time, I couldn't text, so I used YouTube like we used to.
I heard from my dance teacher that my friend Matthew's dad died and that my mom and I were invited. Of course, I went, and all in the same day I ordered my sophomore year homecoming dress. Despite the looming death, I felt happy. In the preceding days, Graham and I had been okay. I was back to being the head-over-heels in love girl that I had been ever since I met him. I packed for my dad's house like I normally did, had dinner over there, then unpacked and got ready for bed. Skyped Graham, like always. The beginning of the conversation was fairly normal.
I don't even remember exactly how it took such a drastic turn. One moment, we were smiling and laughing, and the next he logged into my YouTube account (he knew my passwords and I knew his) and read my messages to and from Jimmy. I very much distinctly remember how hurt and heartbroken he looked, and he wouldn't respond to me when I said I loved him before he hung up on Skype. I should've let him go then.
But I didn't. I spent the whole next day at Chelsi's, acting like it never happened and that we'd get over it and everything would be okay. Well, it wasn't. I didn't hear from him until I'd gotten back at my dad's late that night, where Chels convinced him to let me have a go at smoothing things over. He wouldn't even give me a chance, and looking back I don't blame him. In that half hour long conversation, I was in tears the entire time, and he just wanted no part of it or me or anything to do with the last two years we'd been together. Unbeknownst to me at the time, he was already talking to another girl: Libby, who was a new freshman and we both knew her from TIP that year. But while I thought I still had some kind of chance, we were officially over. I bought a new phone and changed my number, since I didn't intend on talking to him for awhile; I caved after twenty-four hours.
I literally felt like death. When on Facebook he officially moved into another relationship (and I read that my TIP friends "liked" the changed), I threw up (and then deactivated my account). I don't think I ate anything for a week, or really drank that much. Nothing felt appeasing to the hole I had inside of me. I went to school, managed to get through classes (although my pre-calc grade left something to be desired). I most certainly wasn't myself, and all the while, Graham and I were still talking. He'd tell me about Libby and what they'd do physically, and then he'd tell me that he's just testing the waters and that he still loved me. One day we were still going to get married, and the next I was just some dirty, used-up whore who he regrets ever meeting. Sometimes he acted like we were together, others that I was a stranger. I received a fair share of texts meant for Libby, probably on purpose, and each one sent me hurling down deeper into depression. And one night, I decided I didn't care anymore. I'm sure I posted before about my suicide attempt. To anyone who thinks it was a cry for attention: maybe it was that, very deep inside my subconscious, but in the forefront of my mind I wanted to be dead. I still wonder to this day what everything would be like here if I hadn't survived, if I'd taken the extra number of pills I originally wanted to take. But there's no use in that. Displeasing to me, I woke up, and Graham had called. And all I could think was ,"Well, fuck." When I'd told him about the pills and everything, he appeared to show genuine concern, for the first time in about a month and a half. It was reassuring, even moreso when, after I'd been at the hospital, he called my house and my mom told him I'd been at the hospital. But even that was short-lived, and he ignored me.
I'd basically given up on everything else by that point. I'd asked out TJ (the first time) and we were together, and like I said in earlier posts, he made me feel even the smallest bit alive. I was happy, even if that was just for a few hours. Graham kept going back and forth, and I kept trying to argue that Libby was a rebound and he should just come back; he wasn't very happy that I was with TJ, a guy he hadn't exactly approved of. Around Homecoming time, he made me a deal that if I left TJ he'd leave Libby. Not thinking of what it'd do to TJ, I eagerly agreed. Sure enough, while I was actually at Homecoming, he broke up with her over the phone. I was sure he'd ask to be with me at any moment. But he didn't. Instead, he chose a girl in his theater class named Blair (yes, THAT Blair). I was beyond done. I stopped texting him. Stopped calling. Stayed the hell away from Facebook. Tried to live my life. I deleted my original Twitter (I named it "@lunahowell") and made a new one (@remember_ry, but that's not its name anymore). Periodically I'd use it to say what I was doing or what I was listening to, but every so often I'd say how I missed Graham and how I loved him and wanted him to come back so we could be together. Despite that, I thought I was getting better for a week. And then, I wasn't.
I talked about wanted to get drunk. Asked around about where I could get cigarettes or pot. I wanted Graham with everything I had but refused to let him constantly consume me. I was in therapy for the suicide attempt, though I still wanted to die so it didn't really help so much. I needed an escape, and I thought drugs and drinking were the answers. I wanted a change, because I didn't feel like the girl I used to be. I felt that way for about another week.
Well, one morning after I tweeted about going over to Chelsi's to find whatever we could find, Graham texted me. I was calm, surprisingly. Asked him why he texted me, things like that. I spent the half-hour it takes for me to get ready for school on the phone with him. He asked if we could get back together. He said he left Blair. He said he missed me and that he was ready to give us another chance, that he still wanted me both for now and in the future. However, this time I wasn't so easily convinced. I told him that he'd have to talk to his dad about us getting to see each other in person, because I felt that that's what we needed to have a fresh start. I also said that he needed to take a day to figure out if that's what he really wanted, as I was in no hurry to rush back together again. I left home in kind of a daze, and I left him with the premise that until he talks to his dad he shouldn't talk to me. Halfway through school he started texting me, saying how much he missed me and how sorry he was for what he put me through. He was so persistent, and in my heart I still wanted him, so we ended up together. I made a new Facebook and was "in a relationship" there, but with no name. His said the same thing. And again, I was happy. Hopeful for our future.
For roughly a month, we were okay, I guess. We didn't fight, but we didn't really talk like we used to. Our conversations were only through Twitter, because his dad apparently had said that we can't talk until the visit we were apparently going to have in winter break. In those conversations, all we talked about was how much we loved each other and were glad we got together again. But things still felt right, for awhile. I was at my dad's one night and Graham told me he had something to tell me and that it wasn't good. He revealed that a few weeks before, he started seeing Blair again behind my back, and I assumed she didn't know about me. I was crying and yelling at him, and he told me how he wouldn't have told me about it but she was making him officially have names on their relationship statuses. I begged and pleaded for him to choose me or give me a little more time to prove that I was what he wanted. He was unmoved.
I kinda felt that something was off during that whole time. When he was in a situation where I knew he could've texted me, he didn't. When he was going to a school dance, he bought a new suit and didn't text me the whole time. I just had this overall feeling that something was happening, but he assured me I was just paranoid. Guess my intuition is always right.
He told me I had a couple of weeks to convince him to leave her, and when I asked how to do that he just said that if I really knew him better I would already know the answer. I decided to be the girl who just kept saying "I love you." Instead of phone calls, we'd stay on Skype all night long, and we would Skype while we showered. We "had sex" using Skype or the phone, but it wasn't exactly the same anymore. At night, when we were done with sex and I was going to bed, he'd mute his microphone and call her. Just because I couldn't hear them doesn't mean I didn't know what they were doing. What he was doing. And slowly I sank deeper. Contemplated suicide. Thought about leaving.
I got up the courage the night before Christmas Eve to leave him, with the hopes of him saying he loved me and wanted to choose me (it was posted in late December of 2010). I didn't hear back for a day so I texted him and he lashed out at me. Told me I was terrible. A picture he showed me that he thought would be the color of our children's eyes was actually a picture of her eye. A drawing he thought was cool that I liked was something she drew. How he had already told her he loved her. Crying became the norm. I fought for just one extra week to try and prove I was his soulmate. Being the holidays, I got it, but my wisdom teeth surgery caused me to let all that fall by the wayside. Well, not really. I was more focused on securing him than my recovery. I let him Facetime me with chipmunk cheeks and we still had our version of sex. He was choosing on New Year's Day.
I chose to hang out with Chelsi New Year's Eve since I was feeling better and needed to get out of the house. Didn't talk to Graham at all because he was at a party with Blaire. I rung in the new year watching Teeth, a movie about a girl with teeth in her vagina that act as a defense mechanism. We went shopping the next day, the 1st, where I finally heard from Graham. I told him I was out shopping, and he told me he'd tell me his decision when I got home. I insisted that he tell me then, because I'd rather not be alone. He chose her. And after an hour of desperation (I dangled my suicidal thoughts in front of him), I gave up and so did he. I cried at the mall for a few minutes at Starbucks and texted TJ, telling him I made a mistake (meaning that I mistakenly left him for an asshole who left me anyway). He eager replies made me laugh and smile, and for the rest of the day I forgot about Graham. I was officially with TJ as of January 3rd, and I'm happily still with him now.
In trying to get over Graham, I burned quite a bit of momentos (mostly pictures). As of now, I have nothing in my possession that involved us after the beginning of 2010, where things started to fall apart. I pulled together a box of important things: a jacket, a few shirts, his bunny from when he was a baby, the necklace, and the ring. Mailed it to him. Got an angry text a few days later: "Thanks for letting me know we're done, officially." Like we weren't already finished. When I called, he flipped a lid on me, and then I cried, telling him how I missed certain things, like him understanding my Patrick Stump obsession. That conversation ended on a good note, like we'd be friends. But then we couldn't be, because it was TIP application time and I decided not to go. He apparently expected me to, but I refused. It would've hurt too much. He tweeted saying how he doesn't like "used goods," inferring that he wouldn't like it if I slept with or did other sexual things with TJ. And I'll admit, it was quite convenient to have TJ again, but this time it was real. We had an angry text conversation the night before Superbowl Sunday of 2011, and I told him I was glad we lost Ryanna (we still thought she was real at this point) because I didn't want to be stuck with him. He called me after he received that, and we yelled and fought for an hour. TJ was on Skype with me and heard everything. At the end of it, I was in tears and was officially done. I was so upset I picked up the stained glass of a sunset he made me and smashed it on the floor (still have the one of the rose his mom made and gave me in my room though).
After that, we didn't talk until I texted him pretending to be someone else in early May of that year. I asked, pretending to be a friend of mine, if he cared and if he missed me; he answered yes to both questions. We talked the rest of the day until he told me that Blair wasn't comfortable with us talking and thus neither was he. Then nothing until a few days after my birthday, where he wished me happy birthday but I ignored it. Then came the thirtieth of June, and he sent me an email asking me to call him because he was "ready to talk." Basically his girlfriend's parents found out they were having sex and freaked out and he wasn't allowed to talk to her. We were on the phone for an hour and it was a nice, friendly conversation. Nothing came after that until July fourteenth, which was what would have been our three year anniversary. He was already at TIP, and I had made plans with TJ and Chels so I wouldn't be home alone or thinking about that day. He texted me and said "Happy anniversary of the day we met," and then went on to ask if he should cheat on Blair with Libby at TIP (which pissed me off). I got teary at the first part, but refused to let my day start out sad. The day went as planned and I didn't think about what that day meant; it was just another day. Then nothing until junior year began. At this point we didn't exactly talk all the time, but talking was friendly. I considered us almost friends, even though I had blocked him on Facebook. Mostly because I wanted to eliminate the temptation to look him up and feel depressed about not being a part of his life. While I was incredibly happy with TJ, there were parts about Graham I missed. But what hurt was that every time we stopped talking, it was either because Blair didn't like it or he still hadn't gotten over me cheating on him with Jimmy.
Eventually, he got flirty. Sent me a picture of himself (not penis) from his boarding school (the one he always knew he'd go to) and said things that were akin to the way Jimmy and I used to talk. It was...weird, to say the least. He even texted me saying he had visited the spot where he proposed to me. Then I brought up visiting UNC and he suggested we see each other "for closure." This is detailed in November 2011 of this blog. We haven't really talked since, and everything else is up-to-date. As of now, we haven't talked in roughly six months, the longest we've ever gone. As far as I know, he's happy with her and doesn't think about me. It's not that it hurts that we don't talk, just the reasons why, because those reasons make me feel like he does want to see me, he just doesn't want to rock the boat of the relationship.
As of right now, I'm on my day off of classes. Catching up on Teen Mom (my guilty pleasure) and finishing this post before tomorrow. I thought memories and things would go away in time but they haven't. I still remember how he said my name. I still remember the excitement in planning visits. I remember how I felt when he said he loved me. I still remember how it felt when he picked me up and twirled me around whenever it'd been months since we'd seen each other. I still recognize when the clock says 7:14. I can tell you his home and cell phone numbers, presuming he hasn't changed them. I still remember the pain. I still remember my anxiety whenever I had one of my "feelings." I still catch myself daydreaming, thinking about what would happen if he followed my Twitter or my blog and came to Rochester and found me (no way a romantic fantasy, though). I can distinctly imagine him calling my name across the quad and I could detail my specific emotion and actions if that happened. But it didn't.
The worst though is that I'm painfully aware of what tomorrow is: July 14th. I'm making plans to make myself busy all day so I don't think about checking my phone. Since we haven't talked, I don't know if he'll call (texts are blocked to and from his number) or email or whatever. I don't even know if he'll notice what tomorrow is. What I do know is that I'm happy to be here. I know that I miss TJ to death and this has been the hardest almost-week I've experienced in a year and half. No idea how I'm going to get through the next three weeks. As far as being painfully aware of things, most of the time I'm happy when I'm by myself, like 95%. The other 5% comes from my mom saying how she misses Graham or his parents or when she talks about that time in general. It's not something I discuss, because if I talk about it the pain comes back. And what kind of person would I be if I enjoyed that kind of pain?
I'd like to clear something up in advance of it becoming unclear. I don't want to be with Graham. I want to be with TJ. I've come so far from where I was, and I can finally see myself with him. For something to happen with Graham, not only would we have to start completely over but TJ would either have to die, decide to leave, or cheat on me, and even THEN I don't even know if I'd want to be with Graham. At that point I'd probably just start over with someone else. Or be forever alone (kidding). But again, I don't want to be with him. I'm not in love with him. He's someone I consider to be both my ex and an old friend at the same time. I just don't like burning bridges, but apparently he's content with watching the ashes smoulder from ours. Whatever. My life is different now, and clearly we're different people than we used to be.
But that's our story. I don't know whether to call it romantic or a tragedy. I don't know if I regret what I did wrong in the relationship more or that I started the relationship at all. Regardless, it happened. I fell in love, made mistakes, got my heart broken, and made it all out alive. I'm okay and pissed all at the same time, but I think that's part of being a teenager. I'll never forget my first love, nor do I intend to. He allowed me to feel again and experience things I never thought I'd be able to experience without having had him in my life. Young love isn't all bad. Appreciate it while you can, because you never know when it's going to disappear.
Love,
Caitlyn
My dad picked me up from campus that year, and he finally got to meet Graham's parents. It was quite the ordeal, and we all met up for lunch. Afterwards, he and his parents drove me to the airport. I knew then that it'd be the last time I'd see him for awhile, but I didn't really think it'd be the last time period. I started to cry, and while our parents were talking he hugged me. We kissed and held an embrace for not-long-enough, and then I left. The look on my dad's face was priceless: "She really wasn't kidding about this boy." After we got through security and were at our gate, Graham and I were texting, and apparently he didn't understand until I spelled out for him that we weren't going to see each other or be "actually together" until once he turned eighteen. He proceeded to ignore me until well after I got home.
Hell came in the next four weeks. We fought nearly daily. We broke up every few days to only get back together and break up again. The only "good" time was when we mourned the first year since losing what we believed was our baby girl. Otherwise, I was a mess, and I felt like he didn't understand where I was coming from. That last part was more my fault, though. I was keeping that I'd been talking to Jimmy from him, that we were planning on getting together. Since my mom didn't like me talking to him either at the time, I couldn't text, so I used YouTube like we used to.
I heard from my dance teacher that my friend Matthew's dad died and that my mom and I were invited. Of course, I went, and all in the same day I ordered my sophomore year homecoming dress. Despite the looming death, I felt happy. In the preceding days, Graham and I had been okay. I was back to being the head-over-heels in love girl that I had been ever since I met him. I packed for my dad's house like I normally did, had dinner over there, then unpacked and got ready for bed. Skyped Graham, like always. The beginning of the conversation was fairly normal.
I don't even remember exactly how it took such a drastic turn. One moment, we were smiling and laughing, and the next he logged into my YouTube account (he knew my passwords and I knew his) and read my messages to and from Jimmy. I very much distinctly remember how hurt and heartbroken he looked, and he wouldn't respond to me when I said I loved him before he hung up on Skype. I should've let him go then.
But I didn't. I spent the whole next day at Chelsi's, acting like it never happened and that we'd get over it and everything would be okay. Well, it wasn't. I didn't hear from him until I'd gotten back at my dad's late that night, where Chels convinced him to let me have a go at smoothing things over. He wouldn't even give me a chance, and looking back I don't blame him. In that half hour long conversation, I was in tears the entire time, and he just wanted no part of it or me or anything to do with the last two years we'd been together. Unbeknownst to me at the time, he was already talking to another girl: Libby, who was a new freshman and we both knew her from TIP that year. But while I thought I still had some kind of chance, we were officially over. I bought a new phone and changed my number, since I didn't intend on talking to him for awhile; I caved after twenty-four hours.
I literally felt like death. When on Facebook he officially moved into another relationship (and I read that my TIP friends "liked" the changed), I threw up (and then deactivated my account). I don't think I ate anything for a week, or really drank that much. Nothing felt appeasing to the hole I had inside of me. I went to school, managed to get through classes (although my pre-calc grade left something to be desired). I most certainly wasn't myself, and all the while, Graham and I were still talking. He'd tell me about Libby and what they'd do physically, and then he'd tell me that he's just testing the waters and that he still loved me. One day we were still going to get married, and the next I was just some dirty, used-up whore who he regrets ever meeting. Sometimes he acted like we were together, others that I was a stranger. I received a fair share of texts meant for Libby, probably on purpose, and each one sent me hurling down deeper into depression. And one night, I decided I didn't care anymore. I'm sure I posted before about my suicide attempt. To anyone who thinks it was a cry for attention: maybe it was that, very deep inside my subconscious, but in the forefront of my mind I wanted to be dead. I still wonder to this day what everything would be like here if I hadn't survived, if I'd taken the extra number of pills I originally wanted to take. But there's no use in that. Displeasing to me, I woke up, and Graham had called. And all I could think was ,"Well, fuck." When I'd told him about the pills and everything, he appeared to show genuine concern, for the first time in about a month and a half. It was reassuring, even moreso when, after I'd been at the hospital, he called my house and my mom told him I'd been at the hospital. But even that was short-lived, and he ignored me.
I'd basically given up on everything else by that point. I'd asked out TJ (the first time) and we were together, and like I said in earlier posts, he made me feel even the smallest bit alive. I was happy, even if that was just for a few hours. Graham kept going back and forth, and I kept trying to argue that Libby was a rebound and he should just come back; he wasn't very happy that I was with TJ, a guy he hadn't exactly approved of. Around Homecoming time, he made me a deal that if I left TJ he'd leave Libby. Not thinking of what it'd do to TJ, I eagerly agreed. Sure enough, while I was actually at Homecoming, he broke up with her over the phone. I was sure he'd ask to be with me at any moment. But he didn't. Instead, he chose a girl in his theater class named Blair (yes, THAT Blair). I was beyond done. I stopped texting him. Stopped calling. Stayed the hell away from Facebook. Tried to live my life. I deleted my original Twitter (I named it "@lunahowell") and made a new one (@remember_ry, but that's not its name anymore). Periodically I'd use it to say what I was doing or what I was listening to, but every so often I'd say how I missed Graham and how I loved him and wanted him to come back so we could be together. Despite that, I thought I was getting better for a week. And then, I wasn't.
I talked about wanted to get drunk. Asked around about where I could get cigarettes or pot. I wanted Graham with everything I had but refused to let him constantly consume me. I was in therapy for the suicide attempt, though I still wanted to die so it didn't really help so much. I needed an escape, and I thought drugs and drinking were the answers. I wanted a change, because I didn't feel like the girl I used to be. I felt that way for about another week.
Well, one morning after I tweeted about going over to Chelsi's to find whatever we could find, Graham texted me. I was calm, surprisingly. Asked him why he texted me, things like that. I spent the half-hour it takes for me to get ready for school on the phone with him. He asked if we could get back together. He said he left Blair. He said he missed me and that he was ready to give us another chance, that he still wanted me both for now and in the future. However, this time I wasn't so easily convinced. I told him that he'd have to talk to his dad about us getting to see each other in person, because I felt that that's what we needed to have a fresh start. I also said that he needed to take a day to figure out if that's what he really wanted, as I was in no hurry to rush back together again. I left home in kind of a daze, and I left him with the premise that until he talks to his dad he shouldn't talk to me. Halfway through school he started texting me, saying how much he missed me and how sorry he was for what he put me through. He was so persistent, and in my heart I still wanted him, so we ended up together. I made a new Facebook and was "in a relationship" there, but with no name. His said the same thing. And again, I was happy. Hopeful for our future.
For roughly a month, we were okay, I guess. We didn't fight, but we didn't really talk like we used to. Our conversations were only through Twitter, because his dad apparently had said that we can't talk until the visit we were apparently going to have in winter break. In those conversations, all we talked about was how much we loved each other and were glad we got together again. But things still felt right, for awhile. I was at my dad's one night and Graham told me he had something to tell me and that it wasn't good. He revealed that a few weeks before, he started seeing Blair again behind my back, and I assumed she didn't know about me. I was crying and yelling at him, and he told me how he wouldn't have told me about it but she was making him officially have names on their relationship statuses. I begged and pleaded for him to choose me or give me a little more time to prove that I was what he wanted. He was unmoved.
I kinda felt that something was off during that whole time. When he was in a situation where I knew he could've texted me, he didn't. When he was going to a school dance, he bought a new suit and didn't text me the whole time. I just had this overall feeling that something was happening, but he assured me I was just paranoid. Guess my intuition is always right.
He told me I had a couple of weeks to convince him to leave her, and when I asked how to do that he just said that if I really knew him better I would already know the answer. I decided to be the girl who just kept saying "I love you." Instead of phone calls, we'd stay on Skype all night long, and we would Skype while we showered. We "had sex" using Skype or the phone, but it wasn't exactly the same anymore. At night, when we were done with sex and I was going to bed, he'd mute his microphone and call her. Just because I couldn't hear them doesn't mean I didn't know what they were doing. What he was doing. And slowly I sank deeper. Contemplated suicide. Thought about leaving.
I got up the courage the night before Christmas Eve to leave him, with the hopes of him saying he loved me and wanted to choose me (it was posted in late December of 2010). I didn't hear back for a day so I texted him and he lashed out at me. Told me I was terrible. A picture he showed me that he thought would be the color of our children's eyes was actually a picture of her eye. A drawing he thought was cool that I liked was something she drew. How he had already told her he loved her. Crying became the norm. I fought for just one extra week to try and prove I was his soulmate. Being the holidays, I got it, but my wisdom teeth surgery caused me to let all that fall by the wayside. Well, not really. I was more focused on securing him than my recovery. I let him Facetime me with chipmunk cheeks and we still had our version of sex. He was choosing on New Year's Day.
I chose to hang out with Chelsi New Year's Eve since I was feeling better and needed to get out of the house. Didn't talk to Graham at all because he was at a party with Blaire. I rung in the new year watching Teeth, a movie about a girl with teeth in her vagina that act as a defense mechanism. We went shopping the next day, the 1st, where I finally heard from Graham. I told him I was out shopping, and he told me he'd tell me his decision when I got home. I insisted that he tell me then, because I'd rather not be alone. He chose her. And after an hour of desperation (I dangled my suicidal thoughts in front of him), I gave up and so did he. I cried at the mall for a few minutes at Starbucks and texted TJ, telling him I made a mistake (meaning that I mistakenly left him for an asshole who left me anyway). He eager replies made me laugh and smile, and for the rest of the day I forgot about Graham. I was officially with TJ as of January 3rd, and I'm happily still with him now.
In trying to get over Graham, I burned quite a bit of momentos (mostly pictures). As of now, I have nothing in my possession that involved us after the beginning of 2010, where things started to fall apart. I pulled together a box of important things: a jacket, a few shirts, his bunny from when he was a baby, the necklace, and the ring. Mailed it to him. Got an angry text a few days later: "Thanks for letting me know we're done, officially." Like we weren't already finished. When I called, he flipped a lid on me, and then I cried, telling him how I missed certain things, like him understanding my Patrick Stump obsession. That conversation ended on a good note, like we'd be friends. But then we couldn't be, because it was TIP application time and I decided not to go. He apparently expected me to, but I refused. It would've hurt too much. He tweeted saying how he doesn't like "used goods," inferring that he wouldn't like it if I slept with or did other sexual things with TJ. And I'll admit, it was quite convenient to have TJ again, but this time it was real. We had an angry text conversation the night before Superbowl Sunday of 2011, and I told him I was glad we lost Ryanna (we still thought she was real at this point) because I didn't want to be stuck with him. He called me after he received that, and we yelled and fought for an hour. TJ was on Skype with me and heard everything. At the end of it, I was in tears and was officially done. I was so upset I picked up the stained glass of a sunset he made me and smashed it on the floor (still have the one of the rose his mom made and gave me in my room though).
After that, we didn't talk until I texted him pretending to be someone else in early May of that year. I asked, pretending to be a friend of mine, if he cared and if he missed me; he answered yes to both questions. We talked the rest of the day until he told me that Blair wasn't comfortable with us talking and thus neither was he. Then nothing until a few days after my birthday, where he wished me happy birthday but I ignored it. Then came the thirtieth of June, and he sent me an email asking me to call him because he was "ready to talk." Basically his girlfriend's parents found out they were having sex and freaked out and he wasn't allowed to talk to her. We were on the phone for an hour and it was a nice, friendly conversation. Nothing came after that until July fourteenth, which was what would have been our three year anniversary. He was already at TIP, and I had made plans with TJ and Chels so I wouldn't be home alone or thinking about that day. He texted me and said "Happy anniversary of the day we met," and then went on to ask if he should cheat on Blair with Libby at TIP (which pissed me off). I got teary at the first part, but refused to let my day start out sad. The day went as planned and I didn't think about what that day meant; it was just another day. Then nothing until junior year began. At this point we didn't exactly talk all the time, but talking was friendly. I considered us almost friends, even though I had blocked him on Facebook. Mostly because I wanted to eliminate the temptation to look him up and feel depressed about not being a part of his life. While I was incredibly happy with TJ, there were parts about Graham I missed. But what hurt was that every time we stopped talking, it was either because Blair didn't like it or he still hadn't gotten over me cheating on him with Jimmy.
Eventually, he got flirty. Sent me a picture of himself (not penis) from his boarding school (the one he always knew he'd go to) and said things that were akin to the way Jimmy and I used to talk. It was...weird, to say the least. He even texted me saying he had visited the spot where he proposed to me. Then I brought up visiting UNC and he suggested we see each other "for closure." This is detailed in November 2011 of this blog. We haven't really talked since, and everything else is up-to-date. As of now, we haven't talked in roughly six months, the longest we've ever gone. As far as I know, he's happy with her and doesn't think about me. It's not that it hurts that we don't talk, just the reasons why, because those reasons make me feel like he does want to see me, he just doesn't want to rock the boat of the relationship.
As of right now, I'm on my day off of classes. Catching up on Teen Mom (my guilty pleasure) and finishing this post before tomorrow. I thought memories and things would go away in time but they haven't. I still remember how he said my name. I still remember the excitement in planning visits. I remember how I felt when he said he loved me. I still remember how it felt when he picked me up and twirled me around whenever it'd been months since we'd seen each other. I still recognize when the clock says 7:14. I can tell you his home and cell phone numbers, presuming he hasn't changed them. I still remember the pain. I still remember my anxiety whenever I had one of my "feelings." I still catch myself daydreaming, thinking about what would happen if he followed my Twitter or my blog and came to Rochester and found me (no way a romantic fantasy, though). I can distinctly imagine him calling my name across the quad and I could detail my specific emotion and actions if that happened. But it didn't.
The worst though is that I'm painfully aware of what tomorrow is: July 14th. I'm making plans to make myself busy all day so I don't think about checking my phone. Since we haven't talked, I don't know if he'll call (texts are blocked to and from his number) or email or whatever. I don't even know if he'll notice what tomorrow is. What I do know is that I'm happy to be here. I know that I miss TJ to death and this has been the hardest almost-week I've experienced in a year and half. No idea how I'm going to get through the next three weeks. As far as being painfully aware of things, most of the time I'm happy when I'm by myself, like 95%. The other 5% comes from my mom saying how she misses Graham or his parents or when she talks about that time in general. It's not something I discuss, because if I talk about it the pain comes back. And what kind of person would I be if I enjoyed that kind of pain?
I'd like to clear something up in advance of it becoming unclear. I don't want to be with Graham. I want to be with TJ. I've come so far from where I was, and I can finally see myself with him. For something to happen with Graham, not only would we have to start completely over but TJ would either have to die, decide to leave, or cheat on me, and even THEN I don't even know if I'd want to be with Graham. At that point I'd probably just start over with someone else. Or be forever alone (kidding). But again, I don't want to be with him. I'm not in love with him. He's someone I consider to be both my ex and an old friend at the same time. I just don't like burning bridges, but apparently he's content with watching the ashes smoulder from ours. Whatever. My life is different now, and clearly we're different people than we used to be.
But that's our story. I don't know whether to call it romantic or a tragedy. I don't know if I regret what I did wrong in the relationship more or that I started the relationship at all. Regardless, it happened. I fell in love, made mistakes, got my heart broken, and made it all out alive. I'm okay and pissed all at the same time, but I think that's part of being a teenager. I'll never forget my first love, nor do I intend to. He allowed me to feel again and experience things I never thought I'd be able to experience without having had him in my life. Young love isn't all bad. Appreciate it while you can, because you never know when it's going to disappear.
Love,
Caitlyn
Monday, July 9, 2012
Rochester
Been in town for a couple of days, and today is my first day of class, although it doesn't start for another couple of hours. I'm falling in love with this place all over again; it feels like home. Now more than ever I want to come here, and I'm reaffirmed in wanting Rochester to be my first-choice school. The worst part is that the dorm I'm in doesn't have A/C, but that's easily fixed with a couple of fans and open windows (still 84F in here though, compared to 79F outside). My roommate never showed up, but I've made more than a fair share of friends.
Everything is so beautiful here. Old brick buildings, grassy quads, ivy-covered walls. The air itself is beautiful; it smells unbelievably clean and crisp, the way air is supposed to smell. The rain is cold, and there's no humidity, as compared to Florida's "I constantly breathe water." I see myself here in the long-term, and I think that's a good thing.
I miss TJ already. Friday night was one of the best nights we've ever had, in more ways than one. I feel more certain that ever in what I want from us, and I don't know how to judge that. Am I getting attached? Should I be letting my guard down and him in? Is the same thing going to happen to me again? I like to think he means what he says when he tells me that he's intent on my being "the one" for him, and I'm beginning to let myself think that he's the one for me too, but I guess you never know until you make it through something difficult and down the aisle. This month away is our true test and a prep course for college. If we can handle not seeing each other for a month, then I think we can make it. Hopefully.
Today alone I have much to do: get my picture taken for my ID, eat lunch, find class, participate in class, and do the homework, not to mention bonding with my fellow residentials. After the epicness of yesterday, I don't want to isolate myself, although I do enjoy being alone. But there is such a thing as being too alone.
Depending on my time/Internet access, there will be more updates, and I plan to post "Part 3" by the end of this week.
Love,
Caitlyn
Everything is so beautiful here. Old brick buildings, grassy quads, ivy-covered walls. The air itself is beautiful; it smells unbelievably clean and crisp, the way air is supposed to smell. The rain is cold, and there's no humidity, as compared to Florida's "I constantly breathe water." I see myself here in the long-term, and I think that's a good thing.
I miss TJ already. Friday night was one of the best nights we've ever had, in more ways than one. I feel more certain that ever in what I want from us, and I don't know how to judge that. Am I getting attached? Should I be letting my guard down and him in? Is the same thing going to happen to me again? I like to think he means what he says when he tells me that he's intent on my being "the one" for him, and I'm beginning to let myself think that he's the one for me too, but I guess you never know until you make it through something difficult and down the aisle. This month away is our true test and a prep course for college. If we can handle not seeing each other for a month, then I think we can make it. Hopefully.
Today alone I have much to do: get my picture taken for my ID, eat lunch, find class, participate in class, and do the homework, not to mention bonding with my fellow residentials. After the epicness of yesterday, I don't want to isolate myself, although I do enjoy being alone. But there is such a thing as being too alone.
Depending on my time/Internet access, there will be more updates, and I plan to post "Part 3" by the end of this week.
Love,
Caitlyn
Friday, July 6, 2012
Quick Update
I leave tomorrow for Rochester! Can't believe this day has come. Not too long ago I was researching when I could apply and then pulling my application together. But packing is going smoothly; I have everything I need for a month.Tonight I get to be with TJ for awhile to see "Ted" and eat at Johnny Rockets. It has dual purpose: last date night for a month, and celebrating.
I called for my AP scores last week, and I passed both APUSH and AP Lit with 4's. On top of that, my IB score for Visual Arts came in today, and I passed with a 5 (scale of 1-7 with a 4 as passing)! I'm over the moon for so many reasons. It's just kinda perfect right now.
Yes, by quick I meant quick. Getting my nails done with my mom before our bonding time.
Love,
Caitlyn
I called for my AP scores last week, and I passed both APUSH and AP Lit with 4's. On top of that, my IB score for Visual Arts came in today, and I passed with a 5 (scale of 1-7 with a 4 as passing)! I'm over the moon for so many reasons. It's just kinda perfect right now.
Yes, by quick I meant quick. Getting my nails done with my mom before our bonding time.
Love,
Caitlyn
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Hum Hallelujah
Getting summer homework done before I leave next Saturday for Rochester. I'm out of my mind excited, sans the part where I won't see TJ for a month. He's already acting like I'm gone and it's driving me crazy. He doesn't get it yet, but he will. Anyway I still have to pack and whatnot. Couple things to finish up here, like doctors and other appointments.
In the meantime, today is the day Jimmy leaves for college. We were supposed to make cookies together a couple days ago, per his request, but he never really followed up. I made the cookies anyway, because I love baking (duh). It was more than making cookies, though. I've known Jimmy longer than I've known anyone. We've gone through a lot together, as I've detailed throughout this blog. And I know that once he leaves, I know I'll most likely not see him again, which I can live with if I only can get a good-bye. Not getting closure with Graham killed me, and I'm not about to accept the same series of events when it comes to Jimmy.
He leaves sometime today, I guess, and he posted on Facebook last night about being ready to go. So, after much internal debate, I texted him.
Me: Too bad you never got those cookies.
Jimmy: ... shit
Me: Didn't seem all that important to you anyways lol. Just thought it would've been a fun thing to do before you left
Jimmy: I wanted to, there was just no time.
Me: That's life, I guess
Jimmy: Agreed.
Me: Just sucks.
Jimmy: I know... I wanted those cookies.
Me: It's more than that though.
Jimmy: I'm not leaving forever.
Me: Part of it is that the probability of me seeing you again is, like, zero. The other part is that I've known you longer than anyone else, and we've been through a lot. I don't like not getting to say goodbye. Not again.
Jimmy: Again, not leaving forever.
Me: Long enough
Jimmy: I'm coming back in two weeks.
Me: And I'll be gone for Rochester
Jimmy: Welp.
Me: Yeah
Since he didn't respond after that I just kinda gave up. Throughout the entire conversation I was crying, because it just hurts. Not that he's leaving, not like "Jimmy's leaving to go do what he's dreamed of doing and I just wish he could stay here because I'm going to miss him so much," even though I will miss him. I just don't do well when I can't say goodbye. I saw him last week before I left for California. Met at Starbucks, walked around our local plaza for a bit, made a date for cookies. And that was it. I put "it" off because I expected there would be more. And now he's going to be gone.
This event is bittersweet. I'm happy for him that he's getting out of here and going off to college and meeting people, accomplishing something he's wanted to do since from when we met. It just completely utterly sucks that here's this person who I've gone back and forth with, and he's gone back and forth with me, and we've come so far, and he means something to me (due to history), and now he's leaving and I never got to say goodbye.
I remember a whole lot more about things than he does, two of them being that "our song" was Hum Hallelujah (FOB of course) and that he told me to never tell him that I missed him. Right now, even the phrase "hum hallelujah" fits how I feel, and I know without a doubt that I will miss him. He was there when I needed a shoulder to cry on after Graham left. He was there when I needed a reality check for the last five years. He was there when I needed advice or just someone to hang out with. Bottom line, he was there when I needed him. And I'm gonna miss the hell out of that.
It's 8:40 in the morning. I should probably shower, or eat something. I'm determined to finish most of the english assignment today, followed by final allergy testings and all results, then dinner with my dad. Just a normal Thursday.
Love,
Caitlyn
In the meantime, today is the day Jimmy leaves for college. We were supposed to make cookies together a couple days ago, per his request, but he never really followed up. I made the cookies anyway, because I love baking (duh). It was more than making cookies, though. I've known Jimmy longer than I've known anyone. We've gone through a lot together, as I've detailed throughout this blog. And I know that once he leaves, I know I'll most likely not see him again, which I can live with if I only can get a good-bye. Not getting closure with Graham killed me, and I'm not about to accept the same series of events when it comes to Jimmy.
He leaves sometime today, I guess, and he posted on Facebook last night about being ready to go. So, after much internal debate, I texted him.
Me: Too bad you never got those cookies.
Jimmy: ... shit
Me: Didn't seem all that important to you anyways lol. Just thought it would've been a fun thing to do before you left
Jimmy: I wanted to, there was just no time.
Me: That's life, I guess
Jimmy: Agreed.
Me: Just sucks.
Jimmy: I know... I wanted those cookies.
Me: It's more than that though.
Jimmy: I'm not leaving forever.
Me: Part of it is that the probability of me seeing you again is, like, zero. The other part is that I've known you longer than anyone else, and we've been through a lot. I don't like not getting to say goodbye. Not again.
Jimmy: Again, not leaving forever.
Me: Long enough
Jimmy: I'm coming back in two weeks.
Me: And I'll be gone for Rochester
Jimmy: Welp.
Me: Yeah
Since he didn't respond after that I just kinda gave up. Throughout the entire conversation I was crying, because it just hurts. Not that he's leaving, not like "Jimmy's leaving to go do what he's dreamed of doing and I just wish he could stay here because I'm going to miss him so much," even though I will miss him. I just don't do well when I can't say goodbye. I saw him last week before I left for California. Met at Starbucks, walked around our local plaza for a bit, made a date for cookies. And that was it. I put "it" off because I expected there would be more. And now he's going to be gone.
This event is bittersweet. I'm happy for him that he's getting out of here and going off to college and meeting people, accomplishing something he's wanted to do since from when we met. It just completely utterly sucks that here's this person who I've gone back and forth with, and he's gone back and forth with me, and we've come so far, and he means something to me (due to history), and now he's leaving and I never got to say goodbye.
I remember a whole lot more about things than he does, two of them being that "our song" was Hum Hallelujah (FOB of course) and that he told me to never tell him that I missed him. Right now, even the phrase "hum hallelujah" fits how I feel, and I know without a doubt that I will miss him. He was there when I needed a shoulder to cry on after Graham left. He was there when I needed a reality check for the last five years. He was there when I needed advice or just someone to hang out with. Bottom line, he was there when I needed him. And I'm gonna miss the hell out of that.
It's 8:40 in the morning. I should probably shower, or eat something. I'm determined to finish most of the english assignment today, followed by final allergy testings and all results, then dinner with my dad. Just a normal Thursday.
Love,
Caitlyn
Monday, June 25, 2012
Part 2: When It All Goes to Hell
So we were engaged. Happy. Head over heels, in love. Innocent. Not for long.
Our beloved TIP was cut short due to my contracting swine flu (H1N1), and I left about a week into the program without so much as a goodbye. When I got better from home, plans immediately began for our first high school visit: homecoming at my school. With only a few months of a wait between the end of TIP and homecoming in October, we figured the time passed would be easy. I thought all of high school together would be easy. It wasn't.
I knew throughout 8th grade with Graham that I'd run into Jimmy again, but I thought that being engaged would've been enough to put me past all of that. I was very, very wrong. The split second I saw him my first day of freshman year, my heart skipped and I had hot flashes. I was nervous, and he triggered my "fight or flight" adrenaline response. But for the first few months of high school, we didn't interact much, if at all.
Meanwhile, Graham and I were progressing in our relationship. We used Skype for "sex," along with nightly phone calls. Based on our sexual escapades at TIP (and our ignorance), we believed that not only had I gotten pregnant, but also that I miscarried. It was the worst thing that happened that had happened to our relationship at that point. We were crying on a daily basis, and we couldn't talk about anything but what we believed was a loss of a future child. All we wanted was to marry and start our family young, and when we thought we had a chance, it was ripped away from us. It killed us. We never got distant, as we talked plenty, but the experience deeply influenced the coming events.
Homecoming came, and it was the first time we had what we arguably considered real sex. We were watching a movie alone, and it just...happened. He never orgasmed, because I wasn't doing all that much and it was more of a "let's see if we can do this" thing, but it was enough. When he left, we felt closer than ever. And giving my virginity to him felt right. After, I was faced with school and how I remembered that I was fighting with my best friend. I recall feeling able to reach out to Jimmy (via YouTube) and talk; we ended up becoming friends, and the first thing we talked about was Graham. How happy I was, how happy he was, how happy we were as a couple, how far we'd gotten. Everything. In retrospect, even making contact was a mistake, as far as what it'd do to my relationship with Graham.
I figured out pretty damn quick I wanted something more with Jimmy. I'd never gotten over him, and now that I was older and more experienced, I thought I could handle it. I fought with Graham because of my inner frustration between giving into my temptation and being faithful to who I thought was my true love. Jimmy and I texted constantly about striking up a friends-with-benefits situation, and I attempted to try and get Graham to agree to us kissing to freak out Chelsi; he completely disagreed. But, as I was doing at the time, I disobeyed. Jimmy and I agreed to one kiss after first period one morning, and if it was any good then we'd continue. I dressed up in what I thought was my sexiest outfit, and we made out. I remember getting lost in the kiss and how right after I got to my second period he texted me saying we would definitely continue. The affair lasted from around the end of October through the end of December, ending with us having sex ("Him" part 2). And throughout this time, Graham had absolutely no idea.
Until Graham found out, I didn't regret it. I lived my life as I normally would have. I visited Graham with my mom in December, where we tried to have sex outside in the cold. Combined with this failure, my having had slept with Jimmy, and the failed attempt afterwards, I was frustrated. Annoyed. And I lashed out against him. It was pretty much a miserable and cold few days in North Carolina. Things remained the same once I got home. We continued to plan for our Valentine's Day visit, like we'd wanted the year prior. About four weeks before it, Jimmy quit talking to me altogether, claiming he didn't care about me and he wished I would disappear. I cried, utterly distraught at not only losing someone I cared about and loved (I realize now I was in love with him), but that I put my relationship in jeopardy by sleeping with him. Within a week I was dropping hints on my Twitter about my guilt over the affair, and Graham caught on fast.
I confessed over text message, since I was at school and he was still on winter break. And he was heartbroken. We said we'd talk when I got home from school, but while I was still gone he got into my Twitter and changed my username to "@The_Slut" for awhile. I had nothing to say, considering I would be that upset too if he'd done that to me (he later did). I didn't know what I was walking into when I got home, but I was prepared for pretty much everything. When I called, he picked up, but he refused to talk except for bitterly asking me to explain how and why it happened. And I was in tears, because I could hear the hurt in his voice. It was a hard few days (not to mention the plenty of time to follow), but he seemed to get better.
I admit now that I pushed him into forgiving me faster than he was ready to. In retrospect, I should've let him do what he needed to do, regardless of what that may have been. I should've taken responsibility for my actions instead of trying to sweep the mess under the rug. And me pushing for forgiveness and our normality fueled everything in the rest of our relationship.
Two weeks before Valentine's Day he confessed to a sort of emotional connection thing with a girl in his theater class named Lauren. From my continuing guilt over the Jimmy thing, I didn't react to it the way I should have and was allowed to. Two wrongs don't make a right, but he thought it was us getting even. Regardless of the turmoil, our Valentine's Day visit went well. We were okay, it seemed. He "made" me a shirt with "Property of Graham Howell" on the front and "Valentine's Day 2010" on the back, written by hand. I also got a pair of his boxers and a couple old t-shirts from before he "got in shape," as he called it. With his new haircut and body, he was morphing far from the cute and cuddly "teddyGwaham" I fell in love with, and it killed me. I was paranoid and jealous and overly controlling. Instead of working out, it only fueled the tension between us.
On a fairly regular basis, he'd get mad over Jimmy and I talking at school because he thought I had no business doing so. And then just a few weeks before he was supposed to visit for my fifth year dance recital, I got a text message from him intended for another girl; it detailed having her come over, alone, to his house. He originally tried to cover it up by saying it was a dare from his guy friends to see how I'd react, to which I yelled and screamed and told him he was to never associate himself with them again because a stunt like that in the state we were in wasn't funny. After a minute, he said he lied about that and confessed to cheating on me with a girl named Rachel (this is detailed in previous posts). After, we agreed on a break for a long weekend, where we were supposed to contemplate our relationship and see if we really wanted to continue long distance. One day into it he was begging to let me take him back, and I did. I told him I didn't think I was ready for our visit, but he countered with the fact that it was the same amount of time I gave him when he found out about Jimmy before the last visit. So, I got over myself and welcomed him to Florida with open arms.
The visit went better than expected, and we had renewed faith in the relationship. I was on my religious kick prior to the visit (also detailed in previous posts), but it all got thrown out the window when we had sex whilst alone in a movie theater. For over a year, it was "the time" to compare all other times to. We watched the rest of the movie, went to the mall, and attended my stage rehearsal. He left with our relationship in good spirits.
Little did he, or anyone else, know that I struck back up with Jimmy. He apparently was having relationship troubles, which I was more than happy to help out with, and all that resulted in plenty of sexting and other talking. We discussed a lot, and my feelings for him grew to even the point I felt about Graham. I felt happy and conflicted at the same time, especially when Jimmy said that if there were no Graham or Monika (his paramour of the time), he'd be with me. And I heavily considered it.
So our third year of TIP came around, and it became more difficult to keep in touch with Jimmy while enjoying Graham. I'd wait until I was in bed to text to maximize the time I had with Graham, during which I found out he'd given up Monika because she wouldn't jump on any kind of solid relationship with him. It only made things more difficult, because I started to really think about leaving Graham while still in school but marrying him later, since I'd already begun planning the wedding. It created even more tension between us, adding on us not being able to publicly express our feelings for each other on this TIP campus. That, and me talking to Jimmy at all set off Graham to the point where he'd ignore me. And then I found that he kept a list of phone numbers on paper for people he wanted to talk to that I didn't like, but that if I checked his phone I wouldn't find them.
Our second anniversary, however, went well. He gave me a stained glass image of a sunset that he made himself, and I made him a blanket. It was just us in the world, even though my mind was wandering.
I didn't know then that it'd be the last time I would see him.
Love,
Caitlyn
Our beloved TIP was cut short due to my contracting swine flu (H1N1), and I left about a week into the program without so much as a goodbye. When I got better from home, plans immediately began for our first high school visit: homecoming at my school. With only a few months of a wait between the end of TIP and homecoming in October, we figured the time passed would be easy. I thought all of high school together would be easy. It wasn't.
I knew throughout 8th grade with Graham that I'd run into Jimmy again, but I thought that being engaged would've been enough to put me past all of that. I was very, very wrong. The split second I saw him my first day of freshman year, my heart skipped and I had hot flashes. I was nervous, and he triggered my "fight or flight" adrenaline response. But for the first few months of high school, we didn't interact much, if at all.
Meanwhile, Graham and I were progressing in our relationship. We used Skype for "sex," along with nightly phone calls. Based on our sexual escapades at TIP (and our ignorance), we believed that not only had I gotten pregnant, but also that I miscarried. It was the worst thing that happened that had happened to our relationship at that point. We were crying on a daily basis, and we couldn't talk about anything but what we believed was a loss of a future child. All we wanted was to marry and start our family young, and when we thought we had a chance, it was ripped away from us. It killed us. We never got distant, as we talked plenty, but the experience deeply influenced the coming events.
Homecoming came, and it was the first time we had what we arguably considered real sex. We were watching a movie alone, and it just...happened. He never orgasmed, because I wasn't doing all that much and it was more of a "let's see if we can do this" thing, but it was enough. When he left, we felt closer than ever. And giving my virginity to him felt right. After, I was faced with school and how I remembered that I was fighting with my best friend. I recall feeling able to reach out to Jimmy (via YouTube) and talk; we ended up becoming friends, and the first thing we talked about was Graham. How happy I was, how happy he was, how happy we were as a couple, how far we'd gotten. Everything. In retrospect, even making contact was a mistake, as far as what it'd do to my relationship with Graham.
I figured out pretty damn quick I wanted something more with Jimmy. I'd never gotten over him, and now that I was older and more experienced, I thought I could handle it. I fought with Graham because of my inner frustration between giving into my temptation and being faithful to who I thought was my true love. Jimmy and I texted constantly about striking up a friends-with-benefits situation, and I attempted to try and get Graham to agree to us kissing to freak out Chelsi; he completely disagreed. But, as I was doing at the time, I disobeyed. Jimmy and I agreed to one kiss after first period one morning, and if it was any good then we'd continue. I dressed up in what I thought was my sexiest outfit, and we made out. I remember getting lost in the kiss and how right after I got to my second period he texted me saying we would definitely continue. The affair lasted from around the end of October through the end of December, ending with us having sex ("Him" part 2). And throughout this time, Graham had absolutely no idea.
Until Graham found out, I didn't regret it. I lived my life as I normally would have. I visited Graham with my mom in December, where we tried to have sex outside in the cold. Combined with this failure, my having had slept with Jimmy, and the failed attempt afterwards, I was frustrated. Annoyed. And I lashed out against him. It was pretty much a miserable and cold few days in North Carolina. Things remained the same once I got home. We continued to plan for our Valentine's Day visit, like we'd wanted the year prior. About four weeks before it, Jimmy quit talking to me altogether, claiming he didn't care about me and he wished I would disappear. I cried, utterly distraught at not only losing someone I cared about and loved (I realize now I was in love with him), but that I put my relationship in jeopardy by sleeping with him. Within a week I was dropping hints on my Twitter about my guilt over the affair, and Graham caught on fast.
I confessed over text message, since I was at school and he was still on winter break. And he was heartbroken. We said we'd talk when I got home from school, but while I was still gone he got into my Twitter and changed my username to "@The_Slut" for awhile. I had nothing to say, considering I would be that upset too if he'd done that to me (he later did). I didn't know what I was walking into when I got home, but I was prepared for pretty much everything. When I called, he picked up, but he refused to talk except for bitterly asking me to explain how and why it happened. And I was in tears, because I could hear the hurt in his voice. It was a hard few days (not to mention the plenty of time to follow), but he seemed to get better.
I admit now that I pushed him into forgiving me faster than he was ready to. In retrospect, I should've let him do what he needed to do, regardless of what that may have been. I should've taken responsibility for my actions instead of trying to sweep the mess under the rug. And me pushing for forgiveness and our normality fueled everything in the rest of our relationship.
Two weeks before Valentine's Day he confessed to a sort of emotional connection thing with a girl in his theater class named Lauren. From my continuing guilt over the Jimmy thing, I didn't react to it the way I should have and was allowed to. Two wrongs don't make a right, but he thought it was us getting even. Regardless of the turmoil, our Valentine's Day visit went well. We were okay, it seemed. He "made" me a shirt with "Property of Graham Howell" on the front and "Valentine's Day 2010" on the back, written by hand. I also got a pair of his boxers and a couple old t-shirts from before he "got in shape," as he called it. With his new haircut and body, he was morphing far from the cute and cuddly "teddyGwaham" I fell in love with, and it killed me. I was paranoid and jealous and overly controlling. Instead of working out, it only fueled the tension between us.
On a fairly regular basis, he'd get mad over Jimmy and I talking at school because he thought I had no business doing so. And then just a few weeks before he was supposed to visit for my fifth year dance recital, I got a text message from him intended for another girl; it detailed having her come over, alone, to his house. He originally tried to cover it up by saying it was a dare from his guy friends to see how I'd react, to which I yelled and screamed and told him he was to never associate himself with them again because a stunt like that in the state we were in wasn't funny. After a minute, he said he lied about that and confessed to cheating on me with a girl named Rachel (this is detailed in previous posts). After, we agreed on a break for a long weekend, where we were supposed to contemplate our relationship and see if we really wanted to continue long distance. One day into it he was begging to let me take him back, and I did. I told him I didn't think I was ready for our visit, but he countered with the fact that it was the same amount of time I gave him when he found out about Jimmy before the last visit. So, I got over myself and welcomed him to Florida with open arms.
The visit went better than expected, and we had renewed faith in the relationship. I was on my religious kick prior to the visit (also detailed in previous posts), but it all got thrown out the window when we had sex whilst alone in a movie theater. For over a year, it was "the time" to compare all other times to. We watched the rest of the movie, went to the mall, and attended my stage rehearsal. He left with our relationship in good spirits.
Little did he, or anyone else, know that I struck back up with Jimmy. He apparently was having relationship troubles, which I was more than happy to help out with, and all that resulted in plenty of sexting and other talking. We discussed a lot, and my feelings for him grew to even the point I felt about Graham. I felt happy and conflicted at the same time, especially when Jimmy said that if there were no Graham or Monika (his paramour of the time), he'd be with me. And I heavily considered it.
So our third year of TIP came around, and it became more difficult to keep in touch with Jimmy while enjoying Graham. I'd wait until I was in bed to text to maximize the time I had with Graham, during which I found out he'd given up Monika because she wouldn't jump on any kind of solid relationship with him. It only made things more difficult, because I started to really think about leaving Graham while still in school but marrying him later, since I'd already begun planning the wedding. It created even more tension between us, adding on us not being able to publicly express our feelings for each other on this TIP campus. That, and me talking to Jimmy at all set off Graham to the point where he'd ignore me. And then I found that he kept a list of phone numbers on paper for people he wanted to talk to that I didn't like, but that if I checked his phone I wouldn't find them.
Our second anniversary, however, went well. He gave me a stained glass image of a sunset that he made himself, and I made him a blanket. It was just us in the world, even though my mind was wandering.
I didn't know then that it'd be the last time I would see him.
Love,
Caitlyn
Thursday, June 14, 2012
In the Middle of Summer...
Summer's setting in. I've been doing quite a bit of nothing except picking up yoga (courtesy of my amazing cousin Brianne) and planning out trips for next summer.
But while I've been home, TJ's been gone with his grandparents a three-hour drive away. It took, like, two days for me to start wanting him home. He comes home today, and it's been 5ish days since I've seen him. This isn't good. I mean, I'm glad he's coming home, but this reaction of mine signals feelings I haven't felt in two years. Distance is a bitch. And now I'm going to be gone next week for 5 days, and a couple weeks after that I'll be gone for a month.
As long as we each stay busy, it'll distract us, but it's impossible to be busy 100% of the time. And the last thing I want to happen for our relationship is for it to turn into exactly what I had before with a long distance relationship. I know that this is only for the summer, but what about college? What about, at "worst,"if I go to Rochester and he goes to the University of Chicago? That's a ten hour drive either direction. I really don't want to do that again.
But that doesn't mean I think we should break up after senior year. There's so much we don't know about our future that it'd be silly to do anything except continue doing what we've been doing. I'm happy for the progress we've made. I've allowed myself to begin picturing a future with TJ, something that wasn't very easy to do. I'm looking forward to that future, but I remain wary and thus not as attached as I'd gotten in my prior relationship. I know things can change in the blink of an eye, and all I have to do is remember it. Whatever happens, happens. I can't control what TJ does or doesn't do, I can only hope that he thinks the same way as I do and feels the same way about me that I feel about him.
On a lighter note, I have all the money for my tattoo, and I emailed the artist who will be designing it and inking me. After that, it's just a matter of time. This year is my last year of dance; I just...can't waste my time with it anymore. As much as I love dancing, I don't have the time to spend standing around talking when I could be doing homework or studying for tests. It fueled my transition into yoga, which is a more lifelong practice and it successfully destresses me. It truly does wonders.
I've forgotten how much I love summer.
Love,
Caitlyn
But while I've been home, TJ's been gone with his grandparents a three-hour drive away. It took, like, two days for me to start wanting him home. He comes home today, and it's been 5ish days since I've seen him. This isn't good. I mean, I'm glad he's coming home, but this reaction of mine signals feelings I haven't felt in two years. Distance is a bitch. And now I'm going to be gone next week for 5 days, and a couple weeks after that I'll be gone for a month.
As long as we each stay busy, it'll distract us, but it's impossible to be busy 100% of the time. And the last thing I want to happen for our relationship is for it to turn into exactly what I had before with a long distance relationship. I know that this is only for the summer, but what about college? What about, at "worst,"if I go to Rochester and he goes to the University of Chicago? That's a ten hour drive either direction. I really don't want to do that again.
But that doesn't mean I think we should break up after senior year. There's so much we don't know about our future that it'd be silly to do anything except continue doing what we've been doing. I'm happy for the progress we've made. I've allowed myself to begin picturing a future with TJ, something that wasn't very easy to do. I'm looking forward to that future, but I remain wary and thus not as attached as I'd gotten in my prior relationship. I know things can change in the blink of an eye, and all I have to do is remember it. Whatever happens, happens. I can't control what TJ does or doesn't do, I can only hope that he thinks the same way as I do and feels the same way about me that I feel about him.
On a lighter note, I have all the money for my tattoo, and I emailed the artist who will be designing it and inking me. After that, it's just a matter of time. This year is my last year of dance; I just...can't waste my time with it anymore. As much as I love dancing, I don't have the time to spend standing around talking when I could be doing homework or studying for tests. It fueled my transition into yoga, which is a more lifelong practice and it successfully destresses me. It truly does wonders.
I've forgotten how much I love summer.
Love,
Caitlyn
Saturday, June 9, 2012
"Seventeen Forever"
By Metro Station
You are young, and so am I
And this is wrong, but who am I to judge?
I feel like heaven when we touch
I guess, for me this is enough
We're one mistake from being together
Let's not ask why it's not right
You won't be seventeen forever
And we can get away with this tonight
You are young and I am scared
You're wise beyond your years but I don't care
And I can feel your heartbeat
You know exactly where to take me
And this is wrong, but who am I to judge?
I feel like heaven when we touch
I guess, for me this is enough
We're one mistake from being together
Let's not ask why it's not right
You won't be seventeen forever
And we can get away with this tonight
You are young and I am scared
You're wise beyond your years but I don't care
And I can feel your heartbeat
You know exactly where to take me
We're one mistake from being together
Let's not ask why it's not right
You won't be seventeen forever
And we can get away with this tonight
Will you remember me?
You ask me as I leave
Remember what I said?
Oh how could I, oh how could I forget?
We're one mistake from being together
Let's not ask why it's not right
You won't be seventeen forever
And we can get away with this tonight...
Let's not ask why it's not right
You won't be seventeen forever
And we can get away with this tonight
Will you remember me?
You ask me as I leave
Remember what I said?
Oh how could I, oh how could I forget?
We're one mistake from being together
Let's not ask why it's not right
You won't be seventeen forever
And we can get away with this tonight...
Love,
Caitlyn
Happy birthday to me tonight, happy birthday to Jimmy for 1 hour and a half from now.
Sunday, June 3, 2012
End of Year Review
School is officially over for the year, as of this past Friday, June 1st. My final grades are 4 B's and 2 A's, and my cumulative weighted GPA after this year should be something like 3.83. I'd be happy for the summer being here if not for the plethora of work I have to do: learn and do assignments for the Evolution chapter in Biology, a fairly large poetry packet with assignments and my world lit paper for English, a (thankfully) extra credit project for history, a cluster (scrapbook, article summaries, and a phone call) of French, and my 4000 word extended essay to research and write. I also have the Borden reunion in California for several days and my month-long class at Rochester.
In between everything, I'll be writing my college applications and trying to relax. TJ got a job, so he'll be busy, and I'll be home. Hopefully we'll get to spend some time together here and there, considering it's our last summer of high school. There's already talk about next summer and taking a road trip as far north as Chicago. But this summer I'd like to just...be a couple. To begin, we have today at the Sponge Docks, and then who knows? I'm hoping to get the beach in, plan all-day movie marathons at home, and plenty of cuteness (then again how can you plan cuteness?). We have forever to be like an old married couple, as we're consistently called, and forever to worry about what comes next. All we know we have is today.
I'll be seventeen in a week, just a year shy of a legal adult. So much to do in so little time, but again, all I have is today. I hate being this age so much, how I know there's all these things I can't do just because I was born a year or two too late and how I already feel like I'm 25, but everyone has their issues to overcome, and being this age is mine. And I hate Florida, but days like today (not too humid, a little warm, mostly clear sky) are good days. Such a shame to be inside, but I'm waiting for TJ to pick me up for our late Greek lunch. Yum.
3/4 done with this blog, and then I move to the already-created college blog.
In between everything, I'll be writing my college applications and trying to relax. TJ got a job, so he'll be busy, and I'll be home. Hopefully we'll get to spend some time together here and there, considering it's our last summer of high school. There's already talk about next summer and taking a road trip as far north as Chicago. But this summer I'd like to just...be a couple. To begin, we have today at the Sponge Docks, and then who knows? I'm hoping to get the beach in, plan all-day movie marathons at home, and plenty of cuteness (then again how can you plan cuteness?). We have forever to be like an old married couple, as we're consistently called, and forever to worry about what comes next. All we know we have is today.
I'll be seventeen in a week, just a year shy of a legal adult. So much to do in so little time, but again, all I have is today. I hate being this age so much, how I know there's all these things I can't do just because I was born a year or two too late and how I already feel like I'm 25, but everyone has their issues to overcome, and being this age is mine. And I hate Florida, but days like today (not too humid, a little warm, mostly clear sky) are good days. Such a shame to be inside, but I'm waiting for TJ to pick me up for our late Greek lunch. Yum.
3/4 done with this blog, and then I move to the already-created college blog.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Evaluation
Today is my last normal day for junior year. After my history final, I check into my art class to make sure I don't get a zero for an assignment I did, then I go to French for the last time this year. Tomorrow is my UCF visit at 10:30, so no school, and Thursday I take my last two final exams. And then it's summer.
Besides my recital, family reunion, and Rochester visit, I have roughly half of summer to be at home and doing as I please (but I'll probably be with TJ, when he's not working). My teachers thought it'd be a good idea to assign additional homework to our 4,000 word extended essays for IB, but it's whatever; I always get it done. Maybe I'll start my first day off so I don't forget or run out of time. I'd rather spend the beginning of summer doing my homework and relax at the end instead of chilling out now and scrambling during the last week before school starts (like everyone else).
My final grades consist of 4 B's and 2 A's, a considerable difference from last year (then again, anything would be better than last year), and that's what will be on my transcripts when I apply to colleges on August 1. It still hasn't hit me that a year from now I'll know exactly where I'm going to college, how I'll be getting there, and what I'm doing for my graduate degree. I'm not worried about that, because I know I'm getting a quality education either way. I'm either making the economical choice and going to UCF, getting huge scholarships and going to Rochester or NYU, or making enough scholarships to cover DePaul in Chicago. I can always transfer for my undergraduate, or apply for my master's degree, or spend time looking for jobs in either area. Either way I'll get there. The only thing I'm worried about in my immediate future is TJ.
The chances of us going to colleges relatively close around each other is slim. I mean, we're applying to colleges around each other, but us actually attending those colleges might not happen. His Pratt Institute in NYC is close to NYU (within 20 minutes), as his his University of Chicago to my DePaul (roughly a half hour), but University of Florida is 2.5 hours from UCF. And any given combination of those colleges make seeing each other possible only through a plane trip. As I'm sure everyone's aware, long distance didn't go so well the first time, and I'm at the very least hesitant to jump into it again. It turned me into someone I wasn't, and I didn't like that. But if we can make it through 4+ years of distance, then I think I found my match. Of course, the ideal situation is us going to college close, with my preference being living in Chicago and sharing an apartment following his first year (I won't even begin to go into my wedding guilty pleasure).
On another note, I had my tattoo consult last week. My parents, surprisingly enough, are relatively okay with it, as long as I talk to my doctor first because I could be allergic to the ink. But other than that, if I can get the money together ($150-200 total...hey it's a quality environment for a quality tattoo) then my mom will consent to taking me in and getting me inked. In case I haven't mentioned this before, I want a linden tree (it represents marriage and commitment) on my ankle, with roots trailing onto the side of my foot to read "Family." I'm ecstatic about it, actually. All I need now is the money, and my birthday is coming up in 11-ish days.
The future doesn't scare me so much anymore. I like it that way.
Love,
Caitlyn
Besides my recital, family reunion, and Rochester visit, I have roughly half of summer to be at home and doing as I please (but I'll probably be with TJ, when he's not working). My teachers thought it'd be a good idea to assign additional homework to our 4,000 word extended essays for IB, but it's whatever; I always get it done. Maybe I'll start my first day off so I don't forget or run out of time. I'd rather spend the beginning of summer doing my homework and relax at the end instead of chilling out now and scrambling during the last week before school starts (like everyone else).
My final grades consist of 4 B's and 2 A's, a considerable difference from last year (then again, anything would be better than last year), and that's what will be on my transcripts when I apply to colleges on August 1. It still hasn't hit me that a year from now I'll know exactly where I'm going to college, how I'll be getting there, and what I'm doing for my graduate degree. I'm not worried about that, because I know I'm getting a quality education either way. I'm either making the economical choice and going to UCF, getting huge scholarships and going to Rochester or NYU, or making enough scholarships to cover DePaul in Chicago. I can always transfer for my undergraduate, or apply for my master's degree, or spend time looking for jobs in either area. Either way I'll get there. The only thing I'm worried about in my immediate future is TJ.
The chances of us going to colleges relatively close around each other is slim. I mean, we're applying to colleges around each other, but us actually attending those colleges might not happen. His Pratt Institute in NYC is close to NYU (within 20 minutes), as his his University of Chicago to my DePaul (roughly a half hour), but University of Florida is 2.5 hours from UCF. And any given combination of those colleges make seeing each other possible only through a plane trip. As I'm sure everyone's aware, long distance didn't go so well the first time, and I'm at the very least hesitant to jump into it again. It turned me into someone I wasn't, and I didn't like that. But if we can make it through 4+ years of distance, then I think I found my match. Of course, the ideal situation is us going to college close, with my preference being living in Chicago and sharing an apartment following his first year (I won't even begin to go into my wedding guilty pleasure).
On another note, I had my tattoo consult last week. My parents, surprisingly enough, are relatively okay with it, as long as I talk to my doctor first because I could be allergic to the ink. But other than that, if I can get the money together ($150-200 total...hey it's a quality environment for a quality tattoo) then my mom will consent to taking me in and getting me inked. In case I haven't mentioned this before, I want a linden tree (it represents marriage and commitment) on my ankle, with roots trailing onto the side of my foot to read "Family." I'm ecstatic about it, actually. All I need now is the money, and my birthday is coming up in 11-ish days.
The future doesn't scare me so much anymore. I like it that way.
Love,
Caitlyn
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Senior Power!
The end of the school year is fast approaching, much to do with maintaining my grades for the year and studying for finals, but today was senior check-out. I'll miss those kids to an extent, but I know they're leaving us behind for something much better than this petty, insignificant experience.
But today, I am officially a senior in high school. Officially, I have one year left of high school. Officially, one year from now, I'll know exactly where and how I'm going to college. I'll be an adult. I'll finally have what I've been craving for so long: freedom. Freedom from drama, freedom from being treated as a child, freedom from feeling trapped. I'll no longer have to pretend to like certain people, or really pretend at all. All the choices are my own, for me and no one else. It's just me.
The countdown has begun, all part of senior power.
Oh and also: "Go home, freshmen!"
But today, I am officially a senior in high school. Officially, I have one year left of high school. Officially, one year from now, I'll know exactly where and how I'm going to college. I'll be an adult. I'll finally have what I've been craving for so long: freedom. Freedom from drama, freedom from being treated as a child, freedom from feeling trapped. I'll no longer have to pretend to like certain people, or really pretend at all. All the choices are my own, for me and no one else. It's just me.
The countdown has begun, all part of senior power.
Oh and also: "Go home, freshmen!"
Monday, May 7, 2012
Because I lack time for a better post.
By the time you finish this sentence, if you read this at all anymore, you'll know I'm talking to you. About you.
I don't even know why I'm wasting my mental capacity on you for another second. It was a summer romance that went on too long, then we got overly involved, and then we hurt each other too much, and now you're just someone I used to know.
I've spent hours of tears on you. Endless, sleepless nights of headaches and puffy eyes and smeared make-up. I was desperate for you, not just because I was losing you. We spent a long time discussing my cliched "daddy issues," and all you leaving (and dicking me around) did was amplify my terror of abandonment, making my worst nightmares reality. And despite you tearing me to shreds, I STILL wanted you.
For the last year or so, I thought I wanted to be with you in the future, as you made clear nothing was happening while we were still teenagers so far apart. And then I thought we could still be friends, or at the very least be able to be civil and keep the doors of communication open. Your little girlfriend, and your never-ending hurt over my sleeping with Jimmy THREE YEARS AGO, made it very clear that we will never be able to be anything but exes. For awhile, I forgave you for all of that, understood your pain and weak will. Hell, if you and her are happy together, congratulations, go forth and multiply. Get married. Say you're over me all you want to, but you and I both know that deep deep down you aren't. And she will never be me.
I however don't want you. I want nothing to do with you. You hurt me, and yeah I hurt you but I made mistakes. I paid for them. What you did was completely uncalled for, and I will never forget it. You will never have a place in my life or a piece of my heart again. Fuck you. TJ is so much better.
Despite all this, I will continue these last two parts of our story, because there's so much more to what happened than you know or that I ever admitted. If you're not reading, then I'll take part in the simple pleasure that I'm talking about you and you have zero idea, and you have zero say. You can make up whatever you want to that girl you're fucking, but you can't hide from me.
Have a nice life, douchebag.
I don't even know why I'm wasting my mental capacity on you for another second. It was a summer romance that went on too long, then we got overly involved, and then we hurt each other too much, and now you're just someone I used to know.
I've spent hours of tears on you. Endless, sleepless nights of headaches and puffy eyes and smeared make-up. I was desperate for you, not just because I was losing you. We spent a long time discussing my cliched "daddy issues," and all you leaving (and dicking me around) did was amplify my terror of abandonment, making my worst nightmares reality. And despite you tearing me to shreds, I STILL wanted you.
For the last year or so, I thought I wanted to be with you in the future, as you made clear nothing was happening while we were still teenagers so far apart. And then I thought we could still be friends, or at the very least be able to be civil and keep the doors of communication open. Your little girlfriend, and your never-ending hurt over my sleeping with Jimmy THREE YEARS AGO, made it very clear that we will never be able to be anything but exes. For awhile, I forgave you for all of that, understood your pain and weak will. Hell, if you and her are happy together, congratulations, go forth and multiply. Get married. Say you're over me all you want to, but you and I both know that deep deep down you aren't. And she will never be me.
I however don't want you. I want nothing to do with you. You hurt me, and yeah I hurt you but I made mistakes. I paid for them. What you did was completely uncalled for, and I will never forget it. You will never have a place in my life or a piece of my heart again. Fuck you. TJ is so much better.
Despite all this, I will continue these last two parts of our story, because there's so much more to what happened than you know or that I ever admitted. If you're not reading, then I'll take part in the simple pleasure that I'm talking about you and you have zero idea, and you have zero say. You can make up whatever you want to that girl you're fucking, but you can't hide from me.
Have a nice life, douchebag.
Friday, May 4, 2012
Saying Goodbye
While my high school career still has a year to go, I have friends who graduate and attend college in the next few months.
We all remember Jimmy, if you've read this blog from 2010. He's been in my life since seventh grade; that's longer than any one of my other friends, including Chelsi. Back then, I acknowledged that this day would come, but it felt so far away. Now it's here, staring me in the face, and I haven't really known what to feel/say/do about it. He has a girlfriend (who happens to be one of my friends and TJ's former crush; she liked him too), and I won't step on their toes. He's going to FSU, not too far away but far enough. I won't have time to see him over the summer much, if at all, not to mention that, again, I don't want to step on his relationship's toes. It hasn't hit yet that he'll be gone, and there's a good chance I'll never see him again after this year.
He's been there for me through everything, and I really mean everything. He's my damn rock. And we're scarily alike. I've worried about saying anything of the sort, out of fear that it'll be awkward and further fuel him to not talk to me when he leaves for school in July. He's told me before (though this was years ago) not to tell him you miss him, because then he'll feel bad about not missing you because chances are he'll be enjoying himself. But then out of the blue on Facebook (he finally caved and got one), he messages me and asks if we're going to stay in touch when he leaves; then he says that he'd like to. I can't help but smile at that: here is this guy, we've had a pretty rough relationship over the last five years, I've been told by him that he doesn't care about me (two years ago but still), I watched him grow up [some], and now here he is telling me that I'm one of the people he doesn't want to leave behind. Wow.
Not reading into it. I grew up, too. I'm not that pre-teen and immature girl I was when we met. And I think he knows that, just like I know he isn't who he used to be either. And now here we are, him turning 18 the day after I turn 17, and we're planning a joint birthday party as a final get-together of sorts. Just us, our significant others, and a close friend each. Gather around and do whatever because, well, YOLO (yes that just happened). I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited.
Speaking of "YOLO," that brings me to Mitchell. While he's in the grade behind me, I have to say goodbye to him too, but not in the same way. Ever since we started talking again, he went straight back into the whole "Cait I love you, I still want you to be my first, let's get together" thing. I'll admit: at first I thought "He's never going to get over me, I might as well see the kid," but then "What the fuck are you thinking? Doing that will make him more attached not less, and you have TJ, and you don't even Mitchell like that anyway." I approached the situation to him logically by bringing his girlfriend into it; he told me he loved her and that he didn't want to lose her, so I asked why he couldn't have his first with her. He continued insisting that he wanted it to be me. After that, I haven't really talked to him since. Not ignoring him, I just don't have anything else to say in texts. What I have to say needs to be in person: "Mitchell you have to move on. This isn't okay. We aren't kids anymore. I have someone and so do you. There was a time I wanted to be with you, but that was a long time ago. I'm sorry." I've said that over texts many times, and it apparently never got through, so I have to say it in person or over the phone. But he never calls/accepts my calls, and when I suggest meeting for coffee he keeps saying "We probably won't see each other after that, so any time we meet we should use it for sex." I can't keep doing this with him. He held a decent place in my life, and I want him to be happy, but I can't sleep with him to make him happy. I just can't.
I have to say goodbye.
Love,
Caitlyn
We all remember Jimmy, if you've read this blog from 2010. He's been in my life since seventh grade; that's longer than any one of my other friends, including Chelsi. Back then, I acknowledged that this day would come, but it felt so far away. Now it's here, staring me in the face, and I haven't really known what to feel/say/do about it. He has a girlfriend (who happens to be one of my friends and TJ's former crush; she liked him too), and I won't step on their toes. He's going to FSU, not too far away but far enough. I won't have time to see him over the summer much, if at all, not to mention that, again, I don't want to step on his relationship's toes. It hasn't hit yet that he'll be gone, and there's a good chance I'll never see him again after this year.
He's been there for me through everything, and I really mean everything. He's my damn rock. And we're scarily alike. I've worried about saying anything of the sort, out of fear that it'll be awkward and further fuel him to not talk to me when he leaves for school in July. He's told me before (though this was years ago) not to tell him you miss him, because then he'll feel bad about not missing you because chances are he'll be enjoying himself. But then out of the blue on Facebook (he finally caved and got one), he messages me and asks if we're going to stay in touch when he leaves; then he says that he'd like to. I can't help but smile at that: here is this guy, we've had a pretty rough relationship over the last five years, I've been told by him that he doesn't care about me (two years ago but still), I watched him grow up [some], and now here he is telling me that I'm one of the people he doesn't want to leave behind. Wow.
Not reading into it. I grew up, too. I'm not that pre-teen and immature girl I was when we met. And I think he knows that, just like I know he isn't who he used to be either. And now here we are, him turning 18 the day after I turn 17, and we're planning a joint birthday party as a final get-together of sorts. Just us, our significant others, and a close friend each. Gather around and do whatever because, well, YOLO (yes that just happened). I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited.
Speaking of "YOLO," that brings me to Mitchell. While he's in the grade behind me, I have to say goodbye to him too, but not in the same way. Ever since we started talking again, he went straight back into the whole "Cait I love you, I still want you to be my first, let's get together" thing. I'll admit: at first I thought "He's never going to get over me, I might as well see the kid," but then "What the fuck are you thinking? Doing that will make him more attached not less, and you have TJ, and you don't even Mitchell like that anyway." I approached the situation to him logically by bringing his girlfriend into it; he told me he loved her and that he didn't want to lose her, so I asked why he couldn't have his first with her. He continued insisting that he wanted it to be me. After that, I haven't really talked to him since. Not ignoring him, I just don't have anything else to say in texts. What I have to say needs to be in person: "Mitchell you have to move on. This isn't okay. We aren't kids anymore. I have someone and so do you. There was a time I wanted to be with you, but that was a long time ago. I'm sorry." I've said that over texts many times, and it apparently never got through, so I have to say it in person or over the phone. But he never calls/accepts my calls, and when I suggest meeting for coffee he keeps saying "We probably won't see each other after that, so any time we meet we should use it for sex." I can't keep doing this with him. He held a decent place in my life, and I want him to be happy, but I can't sleep with him to make him happy. I just can't.
I have to say goodbye.
Love,
Caitlyn
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