Let's Be Honest

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About the greatest gift

You don't know me as well as I thought you did. If you did, you would know I don't care about items. Sure, stuff is great and all, but I have stuff. I have more jewelry than I could wear in a year, more clothing than I could wear in two. I have the "gadgets and gizmos" and the "whozits and whatzits" that Ariel sang about in her song. It's not stuff that I want, it's you.

You might wonder why the first thing I brought to my cubicle was an envelope full of pictures for my corkboard. Or why I was so concerned about hanging my pictures when I moved to my new apartment. Or why, regardless of the number of apps on my phone, I never have room for my music (hint: I always have 800+ pictures in my camera roll). It's because what matters to me is not the countless possessions, not the knick knacks I look at when we pass by storefronts on our way to lunch, but the memories. And more importantly, the people in them.

I don't mean to sound ungrateful. Of course gifts are nice. They let a person know you care about them, that you've been thinking of them and that you know about their likes and interests, but as I said, you don't know me if that's what you think I want. I don't want an item to look at or use. I want a memory with you. Let's go out to dinner - I don't even care if I pay. That time with you, whether we're talking or sitting in complete silence, is so much more important to me. I kind of hoped you knew that by now.

I guess I was wrong.

[canwebehonest-blog]

About Soul Mates

I’m a semi only child (I have two half siblings, but they’re much older than I am so I grew up as an only child). Because of this, I’ve always been hyper-aware of my friendships, and I take them very seriously. In my last post, I talked about how much I love my friends and how I would do anything for them.

The way I see it, friends are the most important allies you can have. Family is important, of course, but as author Jess C. Scott once said, “Friends are the family you choose.”

Recently I’ve been doing a lot of traveling. In the last month I’ve been to New York twice and Connecticut once to see my friends from college. This may seem like a lot, but in each case I knew I wouldn’t see the people for an extended period of time, and I wanted to make sure I had some time with them before we got busy with work, the Holidays, and graduate school. My roommates don’t really understand how important I feel it is to spend time with my friends, but I essentially lived with these people for 3 and 4 years during college, so they’re the closest people I have to siblings.

Last weekend I spent a lot of time just hanging out, watching movies and football with one of my friends. His roommate thought it was nuts that I would drive all the way to New York for that, but what he didn’t realize was that it was exactly what I needed. After a long week at work and a lot of stressful situations, I jumped at the chance to spend a weekend with my friend, and as soon as I got to the apartment I felt more relaxed than I had in weeks. Sometimes all you need is to be around someone who understands you - even if you don’t talk about anything deep or do anything in particular - to get your mind off of a bad situation.

I think it’s so important to spend time with the people who you can be yourself around, and who love you for you and vice versa. Sometimes I don’t think my friends realize how much they mean to me, but they’re the cement that keeps my foundation in tact, that’s for sure. I would do anything for them and I know they would do the same for me. Even when we go months without seeing each other, or weeks without texting or calling, I still know they’re always there when I need them, and that’s the best feeling in the world.

When I first started college, a quote was circulating that said something along the lines of, "you don't go to college and meet your husband, you go to college and meet your bridesmaids." That quote has stuck with me for the last 6 years, and I truly feel that I met my soul mates at college. I was asking one of my college roommates how we got so lucky to find each other, all 12 (yes, 12, and we weren't in a sorority) of us, and she only had one response for me, "magic." The funny thing is, that's exactly how I feel about it.

[canwebehonest-blog]

About the guy who will never love the same way

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I've always loved people. I use "love" meaning that I love being around people, I love listening to and talking with them, and my favorite times have always been when I'm surrounded by the ones I care about the most: my friends and family. But I also love in the sense that I truly love people. My family, my friends, I love them with all my heart, and I would do anything for them.

I don't know if that's why when I fall, I fall hard, but I do. Even when I know nothing will come of it, even when I know that the person I love doesn't feel the same way about me, I can't help myself.

I read an article on Elite Daily recently, and it might seem silly, but it was the most heartbreakingly honest article I've read in quite a while, which might be because it pertains to my situation. So I've decided to write a letter to this guy who is constantly messing with my head... even though I know he doesn't necessarily mean to. And I'm going to do it here.

Side Note: I should have done this a long time ago, and if I'm being honest with myself, it's probably the main reason that I started this blog, to get my feelings out in the open. Even if no one ever comes across this, just knowing it's out there in cyber space. Well, I'm hoping it helps.

You,

I always think about writing this letter, but usually it's because I'm mad at you, so it never feels like the right time. Whether I'm mad at you because you came in wearing the same shirt you were wearing the day before, or you said we would do something or go somewhere and we still haven't, or just because I'm frustrated with myself, frustrated because I can't stop wondering what we are, but I'm too afraid to ask.

Our... whatever you call it... can make me go through emotions like no other aspect of my life. When we have a great conversation, or when you say something cute that hints towards the future, I get giddy. Then you turn around and start texting and I get confused and angry. Not necessarily at you, sometimes I'm just mad at myself. Mad because I don't have the guts to lose the friendship that we do have, so I don't ask questions or say things when I should. Mad because I know I shouldn't care about you as much as I do, because I know you don't think about me as much as I think about you, but I can't seem to stop myself.

You're in my head. All. The time. and there's nothing I can do about it. Do you realize how frustrating that is? Dreading Friday afternoon and constantly spending my weekends waiting for Monday, just so I can see you again? It's pathetic. I know that. But it is what it is.

I know you don't care the way I do, I know I'm not your "boo," no matter how naturally it sounds when you call me that when you're asking how my weekend was. I know I'm not because you're not a part of my weekend, or rather, I'm not a part of yours.

It's hard to sit back and wonder why I'm doing this to myself, and I can lie to my girl friends all I want and say, "I have nothing else going on, why not have fun while it lasts." But let's be honest, you got to me. Somewhere between the coffees and the lunches, the winks and the kisses, the casual talks about weekend trips and the moments when I let you see me be vulnerable when I try not to let anyone else, you got to me.

You're like a Taylor Swift song (i know you don't like country, but she's pop now so it's okay), messing with my emotions and you don't even know it. We might as well call you Drew, because if I had a guitar the teardrops would definitely be because of you.

You may never know how I feel. It's also quite possible that you do since I have no poker face whatsoever, but either way, I'm going to be okay. I'm going to be okay because I love people. And even when you break my heart, which is inevitable, I'll find someone new to love. In the meantime, I just have to hope that the next person loves me to.

Love always, Me

[canwebehonest-blog]

About Communication

It seems fitting that communication would follow writing as the second post, but it's actually an accident.

I've been living in my apartment for about 2 months now, and I have two roommates, both of whom I knew previously but who didn't know one another.  They're having communication issues and, naturally, I feel responsible for fixing it.  The issue that I'm coming across here is that I can't make both of my roommates happy, it's as if with each conversation I have, the person I'm talking to is trying to get me to place blame on the other, and vice versa.  Here lies the problem with being the mediator: they can't both be right.

Or can they?

In a way, I place blame on myself for not bringing up the issue immediately, but I've realized that I can't do that. This is between my two roommates, and I shouldn't be the messenger.

Communication is so important to any relationship, whether it's family, friends, coworkers, peers, or roommates, but it's not as easy as people act like it is.  Communication is actually one of the most delicate parts of a relationship.  Think about it.  One wrong word, and two people can go from laughter to a blow out fight.  Communication should be approached delicately, like that saying, "think before you speak," especially when there's already tension in the situation.

[canwebehonest-blog]

About Writing

I am not a wordsmith. I would never claim to be. But, like most people in their mid-twenties, I have a lot of thoughts. Some that I share with my friends, family, and coworkers, others that I don't know what to do with. That's where this comes in. Consider it word vomit if you want, I guess in a way that's what it is, but there's something freeing about that, isn't there? Being able to speak your mind completely freely, anonymously, and without judgement? Maybe someone will read this, maybe no one ever will, but hopefully it will be helpful for someone, even if that someone is only me.

Here we go...