Josh's 21st party, the blog.

Saying last night was a good night, wouldn't do it justice. It started with a call from an angry Brandon, me settling him down (we had run into each other that day, and he was pretty upset) and him agreeing to go out, which he hadn't been sure of all week. Krista and I gushd about how cute we looked, and how proud we were of ourselves for wearing clothes a size smaller than we normally do-- it was a great feeling, by the way, having the shirt being still a bit too big for me!

Krista came to my house around 730 and we waited for Ronny, who said he would be our DD for the night.We got a quick bite to eat at Cocoas, where we spent our time choking on our food from laughing so hard. Kylie and Jessie met us there, and we followed them to Monique and Merrile's. All the while, we were singing at the top of our lungs to Lissie, Taking Back Sunday, Tegan and Sara, and the Bloodhund Gang.

Once we got there, we said hey to Andi and Brana, and decided that since it was still early and Josh wasn' even at his own party yet, that we shoud go get some drinks to bring back.

The five of us (not including Andi and Briana) drove to Albertsons, and walked around the grocery store for a bit, killing time. Ronny was throwing balls at Krista and I, and we somehow got onto the subject of my chest. It sort of extended from Valentine's dinner. He said that I was very pretty and volumptious, and then turned to Krista and they said, "And by that last part, I mean huge-ass titties." Basically last night, we turned it into a pickup-line, lol.

Back at the party, Brandon gave me my first shot of jagger and was proud of me for downing it "like a champ." He was excited to be the one to give it to, lol. After that, I made my girly fruity drinks: Absolut Raspberry mixed with Sparkling Lemonade, and Absolut Pineapple with Hawaiian Punch, pretty much awesome. And I drank way too much of both, three classes of the first mix, about four of the second.

At one point, Krista, Ronny, Andi, Greg, Nicole, and I all ended up inline for the restroom (Krista and I went together everytime and everytime we came out, some guy would make a remark about how hot it was). Anyway, Krista was talking to people and started lifting up her skirt to go to the bathroom and then realized what she was doing. I shut the door really quickly and fell to the floor laughing. It was hysterical. And we definitely bonded last night. I don't think there's anyone else I'd want to be that fucked up with.

There are videos of me dancing somewhere-- oh the horror. And I taught Josh how to do my 1-2-step, and Stanky Leg, it ws hilarious. He got a "Tuggie" for his birthday; which is basically a snuggie for his dick-- in cheetah print.

I met some really great people last night; Stu, who is basically the most kick-ass down to earth guy I've ever met, he also gave me my first taste of Jack Daniels; Justin, who was otherwise known as cigarette guy or Jay, who sort of set off this chain of weird flirtations for the rest of the night; Taylor, who I'd heard a lot about, who was hitting on me and holding my hands; and "Cowboy" Josh, who was gorgeous and took Taylor's flirting a few steps further. I spent the entire night flitting between those guys, Josh, Ronny, Krista, Hippi, Andi, Brandon, Sean, Nicole, and Megan. Every once in a while, Sean and I would find one another and hug, or stand close to get warm; and people I had no clue about asked if I was "THE Molly, Josh's sister, Molly?" And of course, I am; apparently the legend of my 21st lives on.

I was very honest last night and the best part of it? I was drunk, but not drunk enough to forget everything that had happened. I told Ronny how much he means to me, repeatedly. I told him that being with him makes me feel safe and that he's one of my best friends. I told Brandon the same thing, because it's true. But I'm not apt to say such sugary sweet things to guys f I can help it. And Josh, well, we hugged it all out repeatedly-- "I love you, man; you're my brother." "Molly, I fuckin' love you, you're my sister for life, my best fuckin' friend." Brandon ended up keeping me warm most of the night, but Ronny was my pillow and anchor whenever I felt too dizzy.

I guess I just had a really good time.

It definitely contrasted the night before, and I was glad that I didn't ask my ex if he still wanted to go-- I have no doubt we would have hooked up and gone farther than we needed to.

The only things I wish I could change about last night: I wish we had taken more pictures, there's a few of me and Krista, but they're all shaky because I was laughing so much; and that I hadn't had my phone on me.

Looking back on last night, it really should be illegal for me to have my phone on me while I'm drinking to excess. I went through my messages this morning, mortified. They're funny, but oh my god, why? I was texting with my friend Josh (not brother Josh, or Cowboy Josh; completely different, but super awesome Josh) and he basically told me straight up that I was the horniest drunk he's ever met.

Next time I go out, I'm going to put whoever is DDing on phone-duty too.

Overall though, it was an amazing night. I felt good, looked great (which I heard all night from sober people and then from the same people once they weren't so much anymore), and I spent the night with some pretty kickass people.

=)

Everything's in order in a blackhole.

Tonight has been weird, and I just need a place to writ down my thoughts and try to make sense of what tonight actually was.

A friend of mine (I've known him since we were about 12), who I dated in high school, is home on leave due to family issues and we got to talking tonight. We hadn't seen each other in about three years, maybe a little less, maybe a little more. But we talk every so often. He was going stir-crazy and wanted to see if I wanted to go get something to drink, or hang out.

I said sure. Why not. I mentioned Corky's being open 24 hours and we ended up there.

Basically if you're at Corky's on the weekend before 3am, there's a good chance of running into people you know-- which happened in abudance.

We sat and talked, got to re-know each other. He told me about his romantic hits and misses, and I did the same. We talked about dating in high school and how he was sort of a man-whore, and how I tend to want guys who are unattainable in some way or another. He talked about living off-base in his own apartment now that he's granted BAH. I got to throw in my two-cents and follow along, since I know a good deal about military life-- especially Navy-life.

Afterwards we went back to my house, neither of us were tired and he didn't want to go home.

Now. Let me say this, we have always shared a mutual attraction and mutual affection for one another. It's not overwhelming, but I can't remember a time in our friendships were it hasn't been there. He's always been the one to act on it, and it's caused us our fair share of problems over the years; jealousy on both of our parts, fights, going stretches without talking to one another because it's just difficult to remain objective where the other is concerned.

While we were sitting there, he was sort of singing to me and then leaned over and grabbed my hand. He brought up how I've always flirted with him and he forgot how much, and how much he enjoyed it. I asked what he meant, and he said it was just the way I am; my facial expressions, the little noises I'll make, those sorts of things-- even my sometimes caustic remarks.

And then his hand started stroking my own. We compared our hand-size, how rough his hands are compared to how soft mine are. We intertwined our fingers and talked about the past, all of our history. And then he sort of got this look on his face that's hard to describe, half smile, half smirk.

He leaned over and sort of whispered in my ear, and asked if I'm still as ticklish as he remembers. And of course I am.

He put his other hand at my knee and started rubbing my thighs, raking his fingers over my jeans and I jumped into him. He went up my side, up my neck and then across my chest to the other side and repeated the process going down.

And then he grabbed me, pulled me into him and kissed me. Our glasses bumped (wow, it's hard to kiss with two people wearing glasses-- who knew?) and we both laughed.

It was weird to be kissing someone after such a long time of not kissing anyone, or after kissing the same person for so long. It was familiar, but at the same time a wholly new experience.

I won't get too into it, but for as many ways as it felt weird or wrong or new, it felt right and good and comfortable. We sort of explored and re-got to know each other's bodies and laughed and talked.

He did ask me to stay the night with him, but I told him no, It was hard to say no, especially because of the way he was touching me, but I resisted. Which I'm proud of.

And when I said no, he said we didn't have to go any further than we already had. That he wanted to cuddle and liked feeling me next to him that way. But still, I didn't go.

We stayed for a bit longer in the car, touching and kissing and talking.

When he left, he pushed my bangs out of my face and kissed my forehead. It was very tender and very sweet and it sort of tugged on something in me. But being who I am, I was immediately back to pretending like it had never happened.

I don't know why I do that.

Why I immediately have to act like intimacy doesn't exist, when it clearly does. But I think he knows me well enough to know it's a defense mechanism. He texted me when he got home, and he might come with me to Josh's party. And I might stay with him afterwards, even though he's heading back to Virginia Sunday morning.

My feelings are mixed on the entire situation.

I was well-aware before we left for the night of our history, and how that history has prevented us from being alone together most of the time. When we are alone, things like this happen. I remember in high school, I had a party during the summer. We all went swimming and afterwards, we came back in and watched movies. He and I crammed on our smaller couch with someone else, though for the life of me, I can't remember who. And under the blankets, he put his hand in my bathingsuit bottoms and got me off.

I just didn't know that tonight would happen because of how long it had been. We're both very different people now. Not to mention he's quite fit. And while I'm pretty, I'm still a different sort of pretty. Whereas he wakes up every morning at 4:15 to go for a run and to go to the gym,

But apparently my body doesn't bother him.

A testament to that fact is the bite marks on my chest and neck.

And oh god, I really don't know.

I'm sure we'll talk about it at some point. Whether we talk about it tomorrow at the party, before or after; or after he's back on base, I know it'll happen at some point.

We talked about how I know what it's like to be a military girlfriend, and how hard those relationships are. I don't know if this will progress to that level, or if we'll go back to being these awkward friends who just happen to have ridiculous chemistry.

All I know is that I'm glad I didn't sleep with him tonight.

For as good as I'm sure it would have been (because, hello, wow), it would have been just that much more confusing. And I don't need any unnecessary distractions right now.

Oh, and of course on the same night, Brandon lets me know that a friend of his has a crush on me.

Life, you are an interesting one.

The Pursuit.

Saying that life hasn't been (felt?) easy lately is a bit of an understatement. But sometimes all you need is one good night to feel like things aren't a complete waste. Last week, it was Valentine's Day which I never wrote about. But it was fantastic. I felt great, I looked great, I laughed and spent time with friends I've had most of my life. Even though I am an introvert and value my alone time above so many things, nights like those with a big group of people can literally heal a multitude of ills. I'm sure the fact that I was drinking helps, harharhar; but seriously, it was a good night and in those few hours spent with people, I felt happy. And I suppose that's all that really matters.

It's the happiness you look for, the happiness you find; where it comes from and where it doesn't.

I suppose that's what growing up is all about, right? Balancing your responsibilites and priorities, with the things and people that make you smile. Sometimes I just have a hell of a time figuring it out though. Sometimes it's easier to focus on the bad and the depressing, and get stuck in that helpless sort of headspace, where everything is ugly and everything hurt (everything is beautiful and nothing hurt-- five points if you get the reference). It's so much easier to get and stay there when life literally piles up on you.

I mean, really, the last thing I want to focus on is the divorce and moving. Though at the end of it all, I know things will be better once it's final and we have a new home. It's the getting there part, though, that's hard. It'll be wonderful to do more than just exist in a space-- it'll be wonderful to decorate and have a fresh start, to really put my mark in where I'll be living. To not worry about all the negativity associated with my space and feel embarassed about having people because of it.

Honestly I don't understand why the getting there has to be so hard. Or why "when it rains, it pours". Sometimes it feels like there's no break; it's continuous, monotonious. Keeping your chin up is made just that much harder, when it feels like there are no more surprises, just routines that need to be kept.

Last Friday Krista took me out to dinner. And  it was another one of those days that I woke up less than happy or excited. But I was so grateful that I had a friend who was willing to put me first after such an incredibly hard week.

And last night I went to a very late and inexpensive dinne with Ronny, who I hadn't seen since Valentine's day. He hadn't stayed the entire dinner, but I was so glad he was able to come and spend some time with all of us. The first thing Isaid when I got into the car was, "I haven't seen you in ten days. What the hell!"

For whatever reason, I always seem to have a good time with him and I never feel like I have to be any more or any less of who I am, to please him. Not to mention, we're basically always laughing and telling stories. I'm really lucky to have such an amazing support system in him. I got all goo-ey on him and told him that he's one of my favorite people and one of my best friends. And I was inanely touched that he said the same about me.

On the way home we had a heart-to-heart. I actually almost cried, lol. Not from sadness, but from relief? That's the best way I can describe it.

Sometimes I feel really foolish for feeling certain things or certain ways, and I'll stay on the surface of something to avoid sounding too silly or sentimental or whatever else. But last night I was insanely vulnerable with him.

I told him how I feel about myself as a person-- basically that I know I'm not perfect, but that at the end of the day,I feel ike a good person; with a good head on her shoulders, who may not be the prettiest but is pretty in her own way that's undeniable, that I'm smart and speak well and can do basically anything that I put my mind to.

And he said something close to, "You are all of those things, Molly. You're sweet and kind, and I don't know how people don't see all that. You deserve so much more than you have."

I told him about my five month rule. About being sexually assualted, emotionally abused, and how all of those things have shaped my view of men and relatioships. And at the end of it, he hugged me a few times and said that he wants me to be happy.

What I did to deserve such a good friend in him, I'll never know. But I'm thankful regardless.

Real quickly, I'd like to point out that the guys in my ife are quality. That years from now, there's no doubt in my mind that they will be fixtures in my life. I can't say that for most of the girls I know, but Josh, Richard, Mike, Jon, Ronny, and Brandon, I know will be there.

It's sort of amazing that for all the issues I have with men, that I'd be lucky enough to have these guys and thier friendship.It sort of boggles the mind.

Thinking back over the years, these are the people who have always had my best interest at heart. The people I've been able to be myself with, without regrets. And of course, though I'm sure it goes without saying, Ronnie is included in this.

These boys have fantasized about finding my attacker and laying the wrath of god on him. They didn't leave my side when my first "real" boyfriend cheated on me and wanted my forgiveness. They are constantly talking about protecting me and fnding the right people for me because I deserve more. They've been my backbones, my crying shoulders, the people I laugh with the most. In my life, they are treasures and I am so lucky.

This weekend we celebrate Josh's 21st.

And it couldn't happen with better or more important people.

Through all the bullshit, hard times, and sadness, I know that I'm in the right direction. And that when I get lost or veer off-course, each and everyone of them will give me a good, swift kick to the ass and tell me to get myself back together before I completely lose it.

Everything will be okay. I just have to get through it all to the other side.

Everything is going to be okay, even when in the moment, I don't believe it.

Align my heart, my body, my mind.

I'm scared about moving. I've lived in the same house my entire life. I'm afraid of the unfamiliar and what it will be like in a house I don't know, with new noises and walls and memories that don't belong to me and my family. I'll feel weird, knowing new people live in my room, are sleeping under my roof, while I'm sleeping in a stranger's room, under a stranger's roof. I've called the same place home for 21 years. I've never packed a bag with the intention of not returning to the only home I've known. It's odd, boxing up our lives and throwing away the things that just don't make the cut.

Basically weighing an entire lifetime, keeping what fits and what we've outgrown. I know it's a natural part of life and that though it will be the first move, it won't be the last I'll make. And while it's forgein, I find comfort in that eventual recognition.

It worries me that this move might mean I'll have to put my education on hold. It does more than worry me, it breaks my heart. I've worked so hard to get where I am, that the thought of having it taken away from me, even for a little bit, makes me want to cry and hold on tighter. I'm not sure how it is for anyone else, but being a survivor of abuse (sexual and otherwise), it's hard for me to sit back and let things happen to me. By no means am I a control freak, but it's difficult for me to stand by and just accept things as they are. Apart of me wants to fight, wants to rebel; kick out against feeling weak and prevent myself from becoming the victim ever again. Letting go of my education, for even a short time, feels as though I'm willingly putting myself in the category of victim and it makes my skin crawl. That head-space, that state of mind, is not a place I ever want to find myself again.

Which is why giving up my schooling feels so big and threatening.

I've been so stressed lately that I've run myself ragged. At the beginning of the week, I had managed a whooping nine hours of sleep in 72 hours. With all this stress, I've spent the last two days crying. I hate admitting that. It feels like such a failure on my part. I hate admitting weakness like that. But there's nothing else I can do. This blog for me, is all about honesty.

And honestly, I've been weaker in these last four months than I have been in a long time. With the divorce almost at its close, the pressure is on. To move, to find a place to live, to settle, to survive. Sometimes it feels like too much. And every day, it feels like my support system is dwindling.

Krista, Kristin, and Brandon have been amazing this week. Especially Krista who listened to me cry for hours on the phone the other night, and still offered to drive out to my house in the middle of the night. I feel like if anyone can relate to what it is I'm going through or how uncertain I feel right now, it's her.

As of right now, I don't feel like there's any one place I belong, or any one person I belong with. I just feel exhausted all of the time.

I've also come to realize that though I consider myself to be a very authentic person, there are very few people I find myself being vulnerable with. For some reason lately, I've had a very hard time breaking down my wall and connecting genuinely with people. The only conversations I've felt comfortable having are very shallow and never hit any deeper than the surface level of any issue or feeling I'm having.

I guess I'm just tired of being hurt by the people I trust. And I'm tired of coming second to people. I'm just tired of never being enough for people.
The other night I said this to Brandon:

"Meet someone amazing. Don't settle for someone who doesn't treat you right. You deserve someone who knows what they, when they have you. And they should think that you move the sun in the sky. Seriously."

And Krista said to me:

"Take what you just said to Brandon and apply it to yourself, cause you deserve that too love."

I'm not sure what it is about who I am, but I've never been enough for the people I've been involved with. Even Ron, who I was convinced I was going to marry, kept his ex around, for just incase. And lied to me about it. And this man and I had started planning a life together; a future with marriage and kids and the whole shebang.  Even then, when he was so "convinced" that we'd be together for the rest of our lives, he needed his backup plan. His insurance that he wouldn't end up alone.

Even now, it weighs heavily on my mind. Deep down in the pit of me, I don't feel like I could ever be enough for another person, because no one has ever just wanted me. Sometimes it's overwhelming, that certainity that every man I meet will be like the one who came before him.

It's hard, knowing that not only am I a beautiful person on the outside, but that I'm equally beautiful on the inside and still, no one cares either way. Even Sean, who seemed so invested in making something work out between us, is seeing someone else...

This is just frustrating. And not something that I should even care about right now, when I have so much going on, so many things that are bigger than whatever it is I'm getting at here.

But at the end of the day, especially when it's been a hard day, I'd just like to have someone to talk to. To feel comfortable and completely at ease with. Who will brush the hair back from my face and kiss me goodnight and feel content that I'm there with them, like I feel content being there with them.

Feeling this isolated and this undesirable are both taking their toll on me.

The few things I am looking forward to though:

-Italy, though I am re-thinking it. It's a once in a lifetime chance, but maybe it just isn't in the cards. I have the grades and I know I can get the money from my father... but it feels so selfish to go and do something so incredible, while I leave my mom here to pick up the pieces of everything that's gone wrong.

-Decorating my new bedroom; though I have no idea where that will be yet, or how big it'll be. But I have ideas... I'm just excited to make a space that I love, instead of merely just existing in. I'm excited to invite people over again, to a place that isn't full of regret and sadness.

-Drinks with Brandon.

Valentine's Day: Either/Or

I've been thinking about this blog for the last 14 days, maybe longer. Most of the people I know dread the whole Valentine's day craze. Let's be honest, it sort of sucks to be alone on a day create to celebrate romantic love and cupids and silly candied-hearts, am I right? But I've never given this holiday much thought-- even if I was in a relationship. It didn't seem like a big deal to me.

This is the first year it's hit me that, "hey, I'm alone on V-day and it's the first time in how ever long, that it's bothered me to be the single chick.... damn". Maybe because I thought I'd be living in Virigina this time last year, with my fiance and celebrating like people in retardedly in love do.

Last Valentine's day, he was on base and I have given myself a concusion on accident, so it didn't much matter. I did, however, have to cancel my plans to go hiking with my friend Mary.

My inattention to Valentine's day isn't because I'm bitter (I'd like to say obviously, but maybe it isn't?), or because I'm this sort of apathetic, non-romantic type. I'm pretty sure most people in my life can vouch for the fact that at heart, I am helpless, stupidly. and whole-heartedly romantic.

But it's because I find the whole notion sort of silly.

If you're with someone, you should do little things each and every day to celebrate that fact. It isn't like you disregard each other all year long, just to say I love you on February 14th. That doesn't make any sense to me. It should be something that is acknowledged and celebrated every single day you're with your significant other. That's what I don't understand about the holiday.

Oh look, I got you a stuffed bear with a heart... I must really love you. Yeah.... right.

So maybe I am the slightest bit bitter; like I said, this is the first year I've given thought to be single on this day. Not necessarily what I wanted at 21. Though most days, what I want varies... so this is probably perfect for where I'm at.

Three people have asked me to be their Valentines for tomorrow: two of my exes, and someone who wishes he was an ex. And let me just say, whichever way you slice it, it isn't happening.  If I was  really so concerned with being alone, then it wouldn't matter who these guys were, it would just matter that someone considered me for a second and thought I was good enough to spend money on for a night. And, for as much as I don't understand the holiday, I'd like my Valentine to mean something, to be someone special to me. Not someone who I dated once or whatever.

Instead of saying yes and making nice and going on a half-assed date I don't actually want to be on, with someone I'm not attracted to, I'm going to spend my night with a great group of people.

We're grabbing a late dinner and having drinks and honestly, there is no one else I would rather spend today with.

These are the people I love most in the world aside from my family. And that's what today is all about, right? Love and sharing time and selves with those we love. So... even though we'll be surrounded by couples, we'll be together and celebrating friendships that have lasted years.

And really, let's face it, these people will probably be around longer than a significant other.

I'm just excited for dressing up and drinking margaritas.

Hey, if I can't have what it is I want, I'm going to make the best out of what it is I've got. It may not be much, but for right now, it does just fine.

My favorite and least favorite. (of the moment)

I'm about a day and a half behind on my music survey, and those two days are quite possibly the hardest of the entire thing: my favorite song and my least favorite song. Anyone who knows me, knows my favorite song(s) change almost every day and though I have a few that are tried and true, it isn't so easy to narrow it all down when one of main mediums is music.

But I'll try my best!

"Gimme Shelter"- The Rolling Stones ft/ Merry Clayton

There is something so incredibly sexy about the opening of this song. It reminds me of people in dark bars or clubs, smoke creating screens, and all around awesomeness. I just really find it seductive and there's nothing I love more than a good opening. But it doesn't stop there; the vocals are rough and exciting and even though the musical content is heavy, you want them to tell you more. As long as they're singing, it doesn't matter. My favorite part of this song however, are the vocals laid down by Merry Clayton. That voice? We don't make women like that anymore and it's a damn shame.  When her voice breaks at 3:03? It's magical-- and Mick Jagger seemed to think so too, since you can hear him in the backround as he shouted "woo!".
There is just too much that makes this song golden.
As sad as I feel to limit my favorite song to just one, it's sort of a necessity; otherwise I'd be here all day and I do sort of have a life. That's a no-go. But my list is a long one, but hopefully other favorite songs I'll be able to use throughout the course of this survey.

And now, to my least favorite song. Which is hard to do, since I don't feel like I innately hate any song off the top of my head. It's honestly one of those deals where I'm listening to music and have to change the station (or tell someone to please turnr their god forsaken music down or off). Though now that I think about it, I was driving the other day with someone, and this song came on the radio and I had to say, "Ew, no. Can we please change it? I HATE this stupid song." We didn't change the station, we just started talking over the disaster.

"Teenage Dream"- Katy Perry

Don't get me wrong, I like my fair share of Katy Perry songs, there isn't any point in denying that fact and I wouldn;t. I don't tend to be ashamed of the music I like, there's a reason I like it and if it doesn't suit you, that's fine... since it's my musical preferece and all.
The song is catchy, which hey, works for it. Because that's literally all it has going for it. It's juvenille (haha, teenage dream), but there's something about how juvenille it is, that really rubs me the wrong way. And the fact that the lyrics talk about meeting someone and now they complete them, also bothers me. I know I've talked about it before, but I'm a believer that you should know yourself before you commit to someone else. If you don't, then once they leave, you're not only losing them-- you're losing yourself too. It just rubs me the wrong way collectively.
As a whole, it's weak. And to be honest, her sophmore album really disappointed me. Her first wasn't exactly life-changing, but I think it was more honest. If you get past the songs like "Ur So Gay" and into the songs like "Lost," you can hear the potential for something really wonderful.

But yeah. Just no.

Sorry, Katy.

A song that reminds me of my most recent ex.

For this post, I'm actually going to give two songs for two different people. My most recent ex, and the guy I met while I dated him. Ron and Spencer.

With Ron, from the get go I knew our relationship would be difficult. He had enlisted in the military long before he met me and even though the thought made me uncomfortable, there was nothing I could do but support him in it. At the time, there was literally no song that didn't remind me of him.

I didn't have constant contact. And I would have felt incredibly lucky to have had one a day a week with him instead of letter writing, phone calls, the internet. That one day a week, for the weeks the people in my life were allowed to spend with their significant others. At times, I think the fact that we weren't face to face 24/7 made us a lot stronger than we would have been otherwise. I mean, I have a shoebox full of love letters from the man I thought I would marry. Sometimes I miss that certainity. But at the end of the day, we just weren't right for one another and there was no amount of forcing that would make us fit.

While I found comfort in song upon song upon song, there was a specific song that cut to my heart directly. I listened to it for hours, when he was at PT or during my classes; when duty came before us, and our contact was restricted to two hours a day, sneaking in texts and 20-second phone calls at random intervals to say I love you; this song was my lullaby, the replacement for his heartbeat under my ear at night and when they trained, it was my prayer for his safety.

Listening to it now, when I haven't in so long, brings back the rush and the fear and the absolute fullness of heart whenever I heard his voice, or thought of his eyes, and remember how devoted he seemed to us. But things like drinking were more important to him. After a fairly unfortunate hiccup, I couldn't trust him the way I needed to, especially with him so far away; and as things are liable to do, they fell apart faster than either of us expected.

I feel nostalgic to the highest degree. And the way my heart sort of pulls against my ribcage, it feels all at once like regret and peaceful resignation. I loved him and he loved me, both as best we could. But this song is the embodiment, for me, of what it means to be a military girlfriend-- that incredible and undenible, constant yearning for another person, and the bargaining you will do to feel a moment of closeness.

"Set the Fire to the Third Bar"- Snow Patrol



As for Spencer, I think one of the things I liked most about him right off the bat, was the fact that we could talk and talk and talk about music. So right off the bat, our inital attraction and connection was based on our fondness for Eve 6, Modest Mouse, Against Me!; the lyrical content, and the contentment in instrumental compositions.

Also, the way we could quote different books to one another; our favorite passages and life lessons, our favorite authors and stories. He introduced me to Nick Hornby, who is now one of my favorite authors. We shared a love of Bukowski, and I threw my Neil Gaiman collection in his face immediately.

There were things about Spencer that I have never actively sought in a significant other. He drank to excess, though so differently from Ron; he smoked; he valued simplicity over almost anything, and while I liked simple things, his ideal was to sit in a beach chair or lay in hammock, drink beer, and do crossword puzzles (which I hated until I met him). He changed my ideal.

We were absurdly frank and honest with one another, moreso than I've ever been with another person. When we had issues with each other, we'd say them, even if he had to go out of the way to call the other, even at 3am after an entire of day of constant contact. We didn't hold anything back.

The fact that we met while I was with Ron speaks volumes first, to the point my relationship with Ron had gotten; and also, about the type of person Spencer was. I've never been one to look twice at someone else if I'm in a relationship... but something about Spencer caught my eye and reeled me in. He was the first person to give me pause; to make me stop and think, "Is this really it? Is my life settled? Is this my soulmate and absolute?" If it wasn't for Spencer, I think I would have made a horrible mistake by staying with Ron.

I loved Ron, but in meeting Spencer, I realized that there were people out there better suited to who I was, and that while love is a big reason to stay with someone, it isn't the most important. My friendship and almost relationship with Spencer made me happier than any relationship I've ever been in. The fact that he'd call on his smoke breaks at the bar, just to say Hi made me smile like an idiot.

I remember having a fight with Ron and asking Spencer if he was still awake. He had seemed on edge earlier when I told him Ron had gotten up earlier than I was expecting, and disappeared on me. But the moment that I asked if he was awake, he called at almost 4am to make sure I was okay. When I told him what happened, he said, "I'm probably not the best person to ask, Molly. I'm not the best person to be talking to about this," my heart literally did a 360. And it wasn't even a week later that he admitted having feelings for me.

The song that reminds me most of him, is a song he actually introduced me to. I listen to it a few times a week, not because I miss him, though sometimes I do, but because it is generally a kickass piece of musial genius.

"Wait So Long"- Trampled By Turtles. And the opening sums it up perfectly: "I could never pretend that I don't love you, you could never pretend that I'm your man; that's exactly the way that I want it, that's exactly the way that I am."

A song that reminds me of my childhood.

There's a lot quite a collection of music/artists who remind me of my childhood. Even though on some long drives, my parents would pop in a Goosebumps cassette and we'd listen to that, or some sort of child sing-along CD, most of the time they played what they enjoyed-- rather than try to please their musically illerate four and two year olds. And as silly as it sounds, I think it was one of the best things they did as parents.

At a young age, I was introduced to real music-- real honest to god, someone sweated through this and cut themselves open to create this composition, music. At three, I knew the differences between the Beatles and the Stones, and could tell you that Pink Floyd was politically charged, even though I had no idea what that actually meant at the time.

And even though the Beatles were (and still are) a prominent fixture during long drives and on house-hold record players, the song that reminds me the most of my childhood is actually "You Better, You Bet" by the Who.

I just remember driving in Hawaii, through the mountains, down the street, going to visit family. I'm pretty sure it was the first song I learned all the lyrics to. Which explains why I have such a fondness in my heart for it.

Really, it's just a good song. And even though the lyrical content is heavy at times, it's catchy and the way its sung is pretty upbeat.

But yeah.

It just reminds me of a time when things were simpler and my parents were happy.

Day one, a song that reminds you of your childhood.

Wake up in the morning to find out you are not who you used to be.

I'm having one of those nights where I should definitely be asleep. I have to be up around 5:15 to study and get ready for breakfast/studying with Krista and Anna, but there's too much on my mind.

My head hurts.

And even though I was joking earlier with my mom, I'm in a bad mood. I don't mean to be, but I just am. Today just wasn't my day. I'm feeling unmotivated and sad and all around just out of sorts for no real reason. I feel like there's a lot of pressure on my shoulders, and honestly, it's not from the important things in my life. The things that should take a backseat to my school and home life and general figuring my shit out, are the things I'm the most focused on. It's not a good look on me. It's not a good look for me.

The other weekened when Krista came over crying, she said something that really hit home for me. To sum it up she said, "Even when I'm smiling, I'm crying on the inside. I'm just sad all the time." I wouldn't go as far to say that I'm crying constantly on the inside or that I'm sad all the time, because I'm not. That would be a grave exaggeration on my part. But I have my moments when I'm out, having a good time, that I would genuinely rather be at home doing nothing or reading a book in  my sweats, not having to worry about putting on a brave and smiling face to placate everyone around me.

Most of the time I'm so worried about offending or hurting the people around me, I hurt myself instead.

In yoga, we're learning about Astreya; which means non-stealing.

Not just the physical stealing, but stealing from ourselves. Instead of doing positive things for ourselves, doing the negative things we should avoid, even if they're fun and we want to do them. How we have to come first, and put our needs first, ahead of going out when we're broke and stretching $10 to last a week, or whatever the case may be.

My main focus should be to take care of me. But it isn't. My main focus is who I may or may not be pissing off to take care of myself. And that shouldn't be my main concern. But somehow everytime I do something for myself, it turns into what I'm not doing for another person. And feeling their disappointment radiate from miles away.

That isn't how it should be.

I feel so torn up right now, I could honestly cry.

My main concerns should be: School, family, health, job, and Italy. Not everything else.

I need to get my head on straight, but there doesn't seem like there's enough days in the week or hours in the day to do right by myself, and the people in my life.

Sometimes I really just need a break.

I need a break.

And I don't feel like I have anyone I can really talk to about anything anymore. Which is terrible. I have all of these friends in my life, and I don't feel close enough to a single one of them to really sit down and talk. I'm just incredibly lonely right now.. I don't feel like I have a "best friend". And I really miss having that.

I miss having just one person who gets me, or tries to understand me regardless of what stupid things I'm doing or saying or considering. I miss unconditional love and acceptance.

A part of me feels like I'm lonely in every way a person can be lonely. And even though my mom is here for me, like she was earlier when I vented, it isn't the same.

Ugh, and I sound extra stupid and whiney right now.

Underneath everything, I guess I'm just having a hard time. And the fact that I don't feel like I have anyone who is genuinely in my corner, only perpetuates the feeling.

Sincerely, I cannot wait to get away from here for the summer. A change of pace, a change of scenery, faces and expectations other people have set on me. To be away from it all; the negativity, the memories, the constant nagging feeling in the back of my head like I've done something wrong, when really, I haven't done anything at all...

I just need it.

If I could pack up and leave now... I think I would. As terrible as it is to say, I would leave. Start over somewhere new, and just hope with all I have, that I start right this time. Without the worries I seem to keep with me, close to my heart every day.

Everyone else can afford to be selfish and do what they want, why can't I?

Not much to say for myself.

I don't have much to say, but I feel weird having not written in my blog since... last week? I can't remember. Yeah, last Wednesday? Okay. So about a week basically.

Tomorrow looks like school too early in the morning, and not particularly caring about my second class. Although, the guy who sits infront me looks eerily like my first real boyfriend from behind-- he even wears the same ugly sort of hats and sweater-type-deals. But his name is Justin... which, well, is just odd. And the first day I noticed it, we were wearing the same thing: grey sweaters, with navy blue undershirts, jeans, and boots. But I digress. And then after my break, hopefully a nap (please?), and buying a blanket (a special blanket for yogaaa), I'm going to Yoga.

I absolutely love it. It's amazing and doing great things for my body. I can feel the gradual tightening of my stomach muscles, I'm more conscious of the way I breathe, and how to center myself the moment I feel anxious. It's wonderful.

Thursday, classes and then afterwards, Sam and I are going to go to the DMV to get our passports taken care of Italy! It stil; isn't guaranteed, but it'll be nice to have a new one that no one is going to lose-- if anyone is going to forget where it is, it'll be me damnit! After that, Brittany and I are going to Yardhouse to catch up.

Friday, not sure. But Nicole wants to go dancing, so that's a definite possibility!

Saturday, sort of weirdly planned out, but not really.

Sunday, recovery!

Today was a really good day. Sam, Greg, Nicole and I went to lunch at Thai T; Sam and I talked about our Italy trip-- discussing if we want to see if we can get our apartments close by each other, our seats on the plane next to each other (yes and yes); if we want to go to Rome or Venice; Venice, of course; though Rome is up there, but Venice is the "sinking city" and in 25 years, probably won't be above sea-level anymore, so this might be our only chance.

Afterwards, we went to my old work-- I had talked to my old boss on the phone the other day and she wanted me to come in and say Hi. I missed her!

And then, we fucked around Barnes and Noble for forever. The barista was super cute and we flirted a bit, but I'm way too shy to even attempt anything more than that. But good chances are I'll see him again. Sam and I looked at second-language programs for Italian, etc.

I just had a good day.

Ronny and I are trying to figure out a day to go to Disneyland. We're making mixed cds for one another. And I haven't seen him since the first week of school. There's something very sick and very wrong about that.

Anyway, bed time!

It's quick, it sucked; such is life.

Night!