Keep It Inside.

Sometimes I wonder about myself.

I’ve always told myself (as well as others) that with me, what you see is what you get. I don’t morph myself to fit society’s molds, or try to change myself so others will like me. That much is true, but at the same time it’s not. Although I don’t change myself or lie about my opinions per se, there is more to me than meets the eye. I may be exactly who you see in terms of my personality traits and likes and dislikes, but when it comes to emotions, I’m a closed book. I avoid showing emotions at all cost; not because I’m afraid of what others will think of me, just because… I guess I don’t like feeling vulnerable. I was that girl once. The girl who makes all of her emotions utterly apparent, the girl whose heart is broken easily, the girl who cries at the simplest thing. I don’t want to be her again, I know that. But I also don’t want to be made of stone. It’s one thing to stop myself from being overly emotional, but it’s another thing entirely to hide all of my emotions completely.

Sometimes I think people don’t understand me. They see the funny person, always cracking jokes and laughing at stupid things. And in a sense, I am that person. But – and I know this sounds cliché – there’s more to me than meets the eye. I have emotions, opinions, thoughts, worries, dreams.

I’m a pretty amicable person, so I have lots of friends. But I have few real friends, friends I can truly talk to about anything. It’s not that they don’t make the effort, some of them do. It’s just that when I start to get close to someone, I naturally clam up. I don’t know why I do it, but the point is that I do. I think I’m pretty good at avoiding things – it seems to me that with a simple topic change most people can forget that they even asked me a personal question in the first place.

Lately I’ve been thinking that the reason I keep so many things inside is because I’m waiting for someone who I can share everything with. Someone I feel comfortable enough around to tell my deepest, darkest secrets. Considering the fact that I’m a seventeen year old girl living in Central Pennsylvania, maybe dark isn’t the right word for my secrets, but I digress.

I’ve been crying a lot lately. Not that anyone knows… with the freedom that comes with a driver’s license comes the privacy. I’ll be honest, to me, right now, there’s no better feeling than driving around on the back roads in the dead of winter with the radio cranked up and the sunroof open. And although that may (and often does) involve randomly crying for seemingly no reason, it’s still the best feeling in the world. Sometimes I like to be alone. It may seem impossible considering how loud I am, but I absolutely love the peace and quiet the open road brings.

My brain feels weird right now. It’s like my thoughts are swirling around in my head and I just have to grab one and try to hold on to it and focus. I’ve always either got writer’s block or word vomit. I can’t make up my mind. I’m unfocused and completely counterproductive. Hopefully this vacation will help get my mind a little more on track…

Snow

I love snow.

I love looking outside my bedroom window late at night and seeing the beautiful, seemingly enchanted white forest that snow creates out of the woods surrounding my house. I love standing outside in the middle of a snowstorm trying to catch snowflakes on my tongue. I love staring at the beauty that is winter, glimpsing small puffs of my breath in front of me and feeling my cheeks grow rosy from the wonderful, wonderful cold that snow brings.

I know what you're thinking. Everyone loves snow, right? Maybe, but I feel like few people truly appreciate it. To all the realists out there: yes, I am aware that snow is really just a form of precipitation that occurs when the temperature drops below 32 degrees Fahrenheit. That may be the proper scientific definition, but to me, snow is something more.

Snow is like a blank canvas; you can do anything you want with it. The possibilities are endless - sledding, snow angels, snow men - hell, shovel it out of there if you want. Point is, what you do with snow is your choice; and in many cases, the possibilities are endless. Sound familiar? I guess what I'm trying to say is, snow is like life. It starts out clean, pure, and white; no imperfections, no memories. But as time goes on, the snow is shaped and molded according to those who use it. Footprints are embedded in its surface, and eventually it loses its pearly white color, until, one day, it melts completely.

You can say it's inconvenient if you want; you can whine and gripe about shoveling the snow out of the driveway and driving carefully on the freshly plowed roads. But let's face it; that's life. Nothing actually stays perfectly white and untouched. At some point, someone's going to step on the snow. Some plow is going to shove some nasty street snow into it, turning it an unpleasant grey color. But even if all of that happens, the fact remains; it's still snow. And just because it's tainted, doesn't mean you shouldn't enjoy it. In the same way, life can be inconvenient. It's not all a walk through a bed of roses. Times are tough, and not every person you meet is going to be your favorite person in the world, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't enjoy life while you can. After all, snow never lasts long; before you know it, it's melted completely. And although that exact snow will never return, it's memory will remain imprinted on the minds of those it affected. Memories of snow forts, sledding, making snow angels with best friends as a child often stay with a person throughout his or her entire life. And hopefully, if you're lucky, the memory of you will stay with the people in your life throughout their entire lives.

Second Chances

http://www.pennlive.com/midstate/index.ssf/2011/01/4_manheim_central_students_kil.html

That's what happened on Sunday.

Four high schoolers lost their lives in a tragic car accident. Stuff like that happens every day, right? Maybe, but nothing ever happens in my tiny little town nestled in the midst of central PA. Until now, apparently.

The thing that really gets me about this whole incident is how sudden it was. Those people, they were just kids having fun. They went out to breakfast like they did every week, expecting to return home in an hour, expecting to go back to their lives. Only they didn't. Because their lives just... stopped.

I've always wondered what a situation like that would do to me. What I'd do if I were in the crash but survived, if I were given a second chance at life when I thought it was all over. I'd like to think that I'd change my ways, that I'd be completely honest with everyone I know and start doing all the things I've always dreamed of doing. But to be honest, I'm not sure if that would actually happen. I'd probably have one catharctic moment, then immediately go back to my life as though nothing had even happened.

I feel kind of numb right now. I can't really explain why; I had never even met these kids. I guess it's just the fact that they were so close, the fact that they were MY age... it all seems pretty surreal. Sometimes life is just too short.

Pretending.

The past few days have been hard.

Jeanice died on Friday.

There. That's the first time I've actually said it out loud - or at least as out loud as it gets on the internet. I've been feeling the strangest mix of emotions since Dad told me about it. It's like I want to cry, but I just can't. I just feel sad, and confused, and... empty. On Saturday in the midst of a fun impromptu trip to the grocery store with my friends, I started feeling really sad. I'm talking sit on the floor and cry until the tears stop coming sad. Break down in the middle of the aisle sad. But I didn't. I pulled myself together and pretended nothing was wrong like I always do. I wandered off for a moment to gather my thoughts, and the next thing I knew I was staring at the meat aisle fighting off tears.

It kind of bugs me that none of my friends even noticed that anything was wrong. I mean, I know it shouldn't. They're not psychic, and I was holding in my emotions, so why would I even want them to notice? It's not so much that I want the attention, because to be perfectly honest that's one of the last things that I want. I just want someone to know me, to care. To know me well enough to see when something is wrong, and care enough to ask if I'm okay.

That's all I've ever wanted, really.

A Picture Is Worth a Thousand Memories

Did you ever have one of those moments where you look at a picture and a thousand memories and emotions come flooding back within seconds?

The other day I was looking through some old pictures in search of some "younger year" photos for the yearbook, when I came across a picture. It was a photo of my father holding a small child, broad grin plastered on his face. I smiled for a moment, then it hit me. It was him. I hadn't seen a photo of him in years, but the minute it hit me, it all came flooding back; the twisting in my gut that I feel every time I see his picture, the tears that trickle down my cheek.

Sometimes I still don't understand why I feel the way I do about him. I mean, I never even met him... never introduced myself, never looked into his eyes, never saw that adorable smile in person. Not that I can recall, anyways. But he's had more of an effect on me than anyone I've ever known, or heard of. Inspired me more than all the other people in my life combined.

I remember the first time I saw him as though it were yesterday. Thousands of people crowded in a silent gym, faces somber, eyes glassy and glued to the Jumbotron containing the slideshow of children who succombed to childhood cancer. I'd seen the slideshow many times before, seen the faces of many more children who didn't make it. But none of them seemed to hit me like his did. I still don't know what it is about him that gets to me so much. In the end, I don't think it was his innocent brown eyes, his genuine grin - it was the way he hugged his sister in those few photos of him that I saw.

I've never told anyone about him before, not a single soul. I guess I've just never met someone I can be completely open with, share all of my emotions with. I hope one day I'll be able to actually tell someone about him, that I'll feel comfortable enough with a person to divulge my deepest feelings. One can only hope...