Thoughts from a Junior: A Look at Prom

I bought my dress in February, started planning in March, and was ready by noon. I was excited. I hadn't slept or ate much in the last two days because of the butterflies that wouldn't leave me the heck alone. I spent money, boy did I spend money, I borrowed and bought and used all my resources to have this perfect experience, and y'know? It wasn't all that. It was great, don't get me wrong. It was pretty and nice and fun, but it didn't win a gold metal for me. I didn't walk away in the same daze that I had come in with. The before stuff, the getting ready, the changing, all of that was more fun than the actual prom prom. So maybe I wasted money and time, maybe I should have tried a little harder to get a date. But I will still go next year, I will still buy my ticket and walk in with higher hopes than my heels. 

"Nobody wants to give up a weekend-long excuse to dress up and attempt to outshine one another." - Elizabeth Eulberg

Thoughts from a Best Friend: A Look at Affection

I guess I should apologize, for sticking my head where no one wanted my input. For saying things and acting as I had a hand in everything. I'm sorry. Really. I feel horribly. But since I still feel plagued by all this stuff I want to get it all out -- there. My two page journal entries just aren't cutting it because I feel like no one is there to understand it. I'm sad. I'm so so sad about what is happening in the lives of my two best friends. But the worst part is, I'm also happy. I'm happy that they have found each other in this world of awful, that they now each have the other on their side to show affection and support beyond friend status. I love them both more than words can describe, but I'm so worried for our future together. Now that they're dating, does this mean that I don't matter anymore? That their lives are a two party show and I'm just the audience member that claps too long and too loud? I hate this feeling. This feeling of jealousy and regret and sorrow. And beyond all this I feel guilty for feeling because I have no right to say anything. I have no right to state my opinion because it's not my relationship, it's not my life, it's theirs. And they will and should do with it what they should. But it hurts. Even when it shouldn't.

"...sometimes I get tired. Sometimes I get bored. And sometimes all I want, more than anything else in the world, is to go on a freaking date." - Kiersten White, Paranormalcy

Thoughts from a Dreamer: A Look at Love

I have a list. I am seventeen years old and I have a list. I know, kinda, what I want. I have this first world perception of perfection and I fear that I will fail. But it isn't up to me, is it? I have no say or power or authority in any of the this, in an outcome - in the grand scheme of things. And that, too, is scary. I don't want diamond encrusted rugs, or specially bred poodles from Sweden. I just want a him, and a me. I want the two of us together fight through the world. I want travel and postcards. I want stamps and stamps lining my passport that I think I've used once. So far. I want a kitchen that shines in its stainless steel glory and an island that I can have coffee and emails on in the mornings. I want red pants. I want Brown University and an office with a large picture window. I want an income that can support a home, a car, and the world beyond my finger tips. I want to laugh and cry about all the beautiful things. I want friends for dinner parties, and oppositions for checkers. I want date nights and movie nights and game nights and dress up nights. I want that big blue sky and that small green grass. I want high ceilings and even higher expectations that are met like clockwork. Like Sunday papers. I want to know, and be reassured every moment that I question an idea. I want these fragments to be okay, and the world to know that I'm selfish -- but accept me.

"To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all." - Oscar Wilde