|Peaches from a Cherry Tree|
Having five days off from work does things to me. The first day I lounged around and watched Grey's Anatomy on Netflix. The second day I picked up a shift for a coworker who desperately wanted to attend her family reunion. The third and fourth day I completed Kingdom Hearts for the umpteenth time and began on Re:Chain of Memories. Today, the fifth day, I did laundry, cleaned the kitchen, washed some dishes, watched some more Grey's Anatomy, and played veterinarian. I never thought I'd be awesome at sticking an IV in a two month old puppy.
And it was after hydrating Hannah the dog that I started to think about the past. I haven't thought about it so much recently. This started when Amber asked her fiancee Jared to get his old high school yearbook out. Usually this wouldn't have been such a big deal, but he was a sophomore in high school in 1997, the same time I was in second grade. Amber wanted me to see little sixteen-year-old Jared. He looked exactly the same, only skinnier and a lot more stoned. Amber then pulled out her high school yearbooks. I read through what people signed in the covers.
"I can't believe you let me stick it there!'
And I read what was written in Jared's yearbook.
You know what was written in my yearbooks?
"Love you like a fat kid loves chocolate!"
I was a great locker buddy? Umm, pretty sure I have no fucking clue what that even means. Moral of the story is that I was one boring person during high school. I told Amber I was jealous of how she was able to be addicted to cocaine, how she was able to smoke weed before going to class, and how people greeted her (by two people placing one hand on each boob).
She pointed out who she lost her virginity to. She showed me who got her in trouble the most and who died on her eighteenth birthday. And I wonder to myself why I didn't have a high school experience like hers. What made me so mediocre, so vanilla, that people couldn't be themselves with me? I know I grew up in Utah. I'm still in Utah and the people I surround myself with are just like Amber's friends in high school.
So then it was these thoughts that brought the remembrance of the past. As Amber proceeded to tell me about her cherry popper I thought about mine. That motherfucker was the one that really ruined high school for me. Amber actually dated the guy she lost her virginity to then broke up the day after. Mine just used me for sex for two years and abused my feelings for him. As much as I'm over this silly situation, I'm not. I'm incredibly broken and it's taken a long time for me to be glued back together. Along with him were the other dicks that did the most damage. Matthew, Jonathan, Curtis, Gavin, Paige, Tyrell, Sidney, etc. The ton of them can die in the next five minutes and my life would be better. Some of them have. I don't feel sorry.
I remembered all the people that tried to help me through high school, the "friends." There were quite a few of those and I'd like to list them all. But I won't because it'd be all for naught. I don't talk to any of them anymore, even the ones that I went to kindergarten with, the ones that said they'd "remember all the good times we had together forever". Zac, Brad, Colt, Joel, Krysta, Kristina, Alyssa... the list gets longer the more and more I think about it. I can't remember the last time I saw these people in person, let alone what we last talked about.
Next came the true friends, the ones I considered "family." In this category, there are only two. Jessie and Destinee are the two friends that stuck with me through thick and thin. I last saw Jessie a year ago when she moved back to northern Utah to live with her dad. The last conversation we had was unfortunately over the phone about how she had decided to move back to our hometown due to problems with her dad. I last saw Destinee in the summer of 2009 at my house. She was introducing me to her still current boyfriend. The last conversation we had was on Facebook today concerning our newly found obsession with rage comics.
I then thought about why Destinee and Jessie are as memorable and missed as they are. And it was because of these douchebags I listed as the ones that ruined my life for years. If it wasn't for those prissy, conceited pricks I wouldn't have had the need for Jessie and Destinee. I'm not about to thank them. Dealing with those people was not easy. Rather, I want to give myself a big ol' pat on the back.
I have come to realize just how valuable as a person I am. If every traumatic experience I've lived through, the tens or hundreds or even thousands, were equated with monetary value, I'm worth more than all the money exchanged in a millennium. Everyone has their life, their "things" that make them who they are. So and So may say they're more valuable than me, and that may be true... in their perspective. I say these things not to be conceited but to prove to myself that I'm great, that I can do what I set my mind to....
... And that there's no use in looking into the past other than to motivate for the future. I know for the future that I can't fall for a straight guy. It just won't work. I know that I can allow everyone to call me names, to say what they want. I can't judge a stranger because I know them as much as they know me.
Today's entry was partly brought upon by a quote by a great Chi Phi sweetheart, Danielle S.
"The day we fret about the future is the day we leave our childhood behind."
Among the hundreds of motivational quotes that Danielle posts on her Facebook wall, this one definitely struck a chord with me today. All I've written about was the past and how I can take that rocky foundation and build upon it. I'm looking toward the future. I'm becoming a better person.
And part of this better person thing includes writing more. Peaches From A Cherry Tree, it was your seventh birthday a month and three weeks ago. I'm sorry I completely forgot about it... but here's to reaching ten year and more. Happy birthday.