Love After Life

January

January
New Year. New Chances. New Me. Bullshit.

I called him (once) just to hear his voice, and then I hung up. Man, I sound like a creepy stalker. My mission is a fail. I can't forget about him. I can't forget about the time we spent, how we argued and laughed. We were perfectly paired opposites. I hate myself for taking so long to realize my feelings for him. I love him. I love Carter Holmes. I didn't love Alex, my first boyfriend. I loved the image he upheld, not him. This is something different and when I think about Carter I realize that I was wrong about what I thought love was.

Love is indescribable.

It is that feeling you get when you look at something beautiful for the first time, like a place. It is something that you want to hold on to, but you want to let it go so that the rest of the world can realize how great it is. I know that there is more than one type of love. There is the people who you have to love (your family; my father), the people you want to love (your friends), the people you love but can never have (celebrities and professional athletes), and the love you choose (Carter, my Carter.) Can I show possession for something that I never had in the beginning?

Well, I love Carter, and I don't know how long love lasts for. Is it temporary or infinite? I want to tell him, I want to shout it from the rooftops. I can live with him not feeling the same way, but I will go crazy if he doesn't know how I feel. Forty years from now I might have twenty-some cats and I may have a lifetime supply of Ramen noodles, but at least I won't look back on my life in regret.

Sixteen more days. It snowed. It snowed in California. It was only an inch, but it was still snow. The temperature dropped to 40 degrees. My brother was excited, he wanted to build a snow fort. I told him that he was stupid if he thought he could do that. My dad yelled at me, then he hit me. I went to my room. I didn't cry, at least not because of my father. This was normal. My grandma took me shopping. I got new clothes and shoes. I thanked her. She smiled and said something about how it's just what grandmas do. I re-watched all of the Vietnam war documentaries. I read the Diary of Anne Frank. I became numb, I felt numb and tired, really tired.

Ten more days. My great uncle passed away. I never met him; we still went to the funeral. We went out for pizza after. My dad still hasn't apologized, it's not like I'd ever forgive him. I miss my mom. I wish she was here. I wish I could talk to her about this...whatever this is.

Six more days. I hung out with some friends (people I was friendly with) from high school. They talked, I nodded and muttered short responses. They never asked to hang out again. I didn't mind.

Two more days. I packed my new wardrobe for school. I said goodbye, I told my Aunt Lori, Grandma Joy, and Colin that I loved them. I ignored my dad. Aunt Lori drove me back.

Zero days. I'm back.