I'm Free

Last week, I finally did it.

It took me almost an entire year.

But I got over you.

The first person I fell in love with. The first person I made all those promises to. The girl I planned my future around-- I'm finally over you.

I'm no longer trying to find someone to take your place. I'm not trying to fill the hole you had left. I'm no longer searching for a missing piece.

I'm full again.

It happened to suddenly. I was walking through the hallways to my locker. And I realized it. There's no longer a want to be with someone. No wishes or hopes for you to come back. You're living your life and I'm living mine.

I'm over you.

I can live with my solitude for a while. Maybe one day, I'll find someone else. But that'll be far from now.

Right now, I'm happy knowing I did it. I got over the rough feelings and broken heart. I'm going to enjoy being my single self. And pat myself on the back because I did what I thought was impossible. 

Friendships and Love

I am in absolute love with my friend.

I can practically hear you letting out a huge sigh of annoyance. Another girl claiming to be in love with her friend, you think. But no, that’s not what I’m talking about.

I don’t fantasize about kissing her or having sex with her. I’d love to hold her hand and hug her and hell, even snuggle with her. But I don’t want to kiss her unless we’re both drunk and desperate. To me, kissing her would be like kissing a sister. I know I live in Arkansas, but I’m not into that stuff.

Johanna—Or as I like to call her, Joe—is probably my closest friend. My best friend even. She knows more about me than anyone else and I trust her with all my secrets. I love her to death, but I don’t want to sleep with her. We talk about our crushes, and she has a beautiful girlfriend. I don’t get jealous over the fact that she’s with her. I’m extremely happy that they’re happy together and will kill the girl if she does anything to hurt Joe.

The worse part about our friendship is that she is thousands of miles away from me. She is literally on the other side of the planet in Finland. Ball freezing Finland.

When I’m getting ready for bed, she’s getting ready for school. It’s fucking crazy.

Somehow, in the year we've known each other, we've managed to make a routine so it works. Because of the time difference, we've saved our conversations for weekends only. If we tried to do it on school nights, one or both of us will be losing sleep. Since we’re both practically sloths, we agreed that was a bad idea.

Let’s go back to my love for Joe. We like to torture each other by sending creepy videos and pictures and fanfiction. It’s messed up and sometimes awkward and gross to do, but we feel that if one has to face the pain, the other should too and then we can go on talking about how messed up it was. We talk about sex and relationships and ex-girlfriends and our OTPs and everything in between.

I told her that when we meet, we’re going to run in slow motion into a big huge. Preferably at Comic-Con. She likes the idea, mostly because Comic Con.

Joe is absolutely beautiful, inside and out. She’s funny and is an amazing cosplayer and is great and keeping secrets and shares the same interests as me. She’s stubborn and crazy and has a bad habit of pushing people away. We’re able to find each other’s imperfections but goddamn, I love Joe so much because of her imperfections.

I don’t have an idea of her, I know her. I know how messed up she can be and the bad things she can do. Maybe that’s why I love her so much. She’s not perfect and never tried to be. From the very beginning, I've known she was lazy, reckless, and beyond imperfect.

There’s not really a point to this rambling post. I just want to share my love for Joe and show anyone who reads it that love isn't always a red string tied to your finger (See here for context). Sometimes it’s a pink or green or blue or plain white tied to the finger of you and your friend. Love isn't just something that can lead to marriage. Sometimes, it’s friendship.

It’s a different kind of love that no one gives much credit for. It’s all about romance and marriage. Why can’t we just have friends who we love with all our heart? Why can’t we tell them this without it being awkward?

Love your friends, don't fight the love, and them know how much you care about them. 

-          --  Amber.

Relationships and the Pain They Cause

So the girl I agreed to have a friend's with benefits thing with told me she can't and said she'd offer me only friendship. Friendship is great and I'm okay with it and I'll continue talking to her because we get along well, but I still feel upset that she had to call the deal off before it even began.

She found me on Facebook. Did she see some pictures that didn't concentrate on my face and changed her mind about wanting to have sex. Maybe she decided, nevermind, I don't want a fat girl. I want someone who's thinner with less acne. 

God, I feel so selfish for thinking this way, but I can't help but think I did something wrong. Maybe I was too forceful when I asked if the deal was still one? Maybe she thought I was something else. 

I don't even know what I was thinking. 

I agreed to try being FWBs with two girls and both ended badly. One turned out to be engaged and hasn't texted me in weeks, even though she was so excited about it. Maybe she realized it was a bad idea. Who knows. But I lost a friend with that and never even got the chance at benefits with her. 

Amber getting what she wants? That's a crazy thought. I want a cool friendship with casual sex involved. I thought I had finally found it when Logan but then she changes her mind. Every hope I seem to have for relationships always seem to get crushed or twisted in some shape that I can't even recognize. 

Every girl I like turns out to be straight or in a relationship.

Everyone I kiss have a different idea of what it could be. 

Even some friends don't seem to care for me. Sure, I'll buy you lunch, listen to all your problems, and tell the teacher you're here even though you're still stuck in traffic. But heaven forbid you do the same, or even tell me the homework we had the day I was absent.

I feel like a selfish prick for saying this. I can't help how I feel though. I want to feel important sometimes. I want things to go my way for once and for the relationships I've agreed to actually work. 

Sometimes I just want to have casual sex. Sometimes I just want to cry on someone's shoulder. Sometimes I just want someone to give me my homework so I don't get behind in class. 

Is it selfish to want that?

Life With a Lisp

Life with a lisp is speech classes and people laughing at the words you say. It’s staying quiet to avoid people repeating your words and laughing. It’s people asking if you have or ever had braces when you never have or an overbite when your teeth are just fine.

It’s people asking you to say ‘Sally sells seashells’ and ‘six slippery snails slid’ so they can get a laugh. It’s never calling Sarah, Sierra, or Sam by their names because you don’t want to disrespect your friend who puts up with you with that drastic letter of the alphabet. 

It’s giving an oral report and losing points because you didn’t speak clearly enough. It’s being told you’re speaking wrong and feeling like you didn’t grow up right because most children with lisps grow out of it. 

But life with a lisp is giving the perfect snake impersonation. It’s letting your mind wonder and create because rather than speaking, you go on an adventure through your thoughts. 

Having a lisp means finding special people who find it cute and never laugh at you when you say ‘someone said I smell like sunflowers’ or ‘sleep keeps us from seeing stars’. It’s being able to figure out which friends to keep close and who’s best left behind.

Life with a lisp has hard times and painful moments but it means you’re different and special. The way you speak doesn’t have to be a speech impediment. How you speak can sound however you want it to be. It’s your voice, your accent, and you can change it however you’d like. 

It’s your voice and it can sound however you want it to be.

GAY

I AM GAY

I AM A LESBIAN 

LESBO 

DYKE

QUEER 

I ENJOY BOOBS AND VAGINA

I AM NOT A CHALLENGE

I AM NOT TRYING TO GET ATTENTION

I AM TRYING TO LIVE IN MY LIFE IN A JUDGEMENTAL SOCIETY THAT SHOULD NOT REVOLVE AROUND YOUR DICK

I AM A WOMAN

WHO LIKES WOMEN

AND WILL NEVER LIKE YOU OR YOUR SHRUNK UP DONG

SO GET AWAY FROM ME AND LET ME LIVE IN PEACE WITH MY GAY THOUGHTS

Driving in the Night

I drove to Wal-Mart the other night to pick up a binder. At first, it was comforting to drive through the darkness. Very few street lights shined the roads and no cars passed me. There was no noise, just the soft sound of my radio and the wind outside. Driving there, I was comforted and relaxed in the solitude of the night.

I hurried in and back to my car, ready to leave the brightness of the town and the chatter of the people and go back down the silent road. There was no one in my lane in the parking lot. No one coming or going. So I pressed my foot on the gas peddle.

Harder.

And harder.

I was speeding in a parking lot, nearing almost thirty miles in just five seconds. It was too fast, but I didn't step on the breaks. My eyes locked with the end of the road, at the McDonald's in front of me. And I wondered as I sped up, what would happen if I didn't stop? What would happen if I just kept on driving...

I slammed on the breaks before I could hit the short road that would lead me to the main road. I realized what I was doing, what would have happened if I didn't stop.

Oh god. What was I doing? I thought.

I noticed some lights behind me and forced myself not to stop right there. I drove the short road, still connected to the parking lot. I went to the emptier side, the spot where mostly the workers and garage attendants were.

And then I tried again. Faster this time. No cars, longer road, a fence at the end that could stop me. Don't stop, I thought.

I stopped close to the curb. I couldn't do it. I was such a coward, but I'm fucking happy to be a coward. I don't want to be brave if bravery involves crashing.

I had to leave the darkness. No matter how comforting it was, it left me wanting to drive faster and see what would happen if I happened if I didn't stop. It left my palms sweaty and butterflies float in my stomach.

The night time has always left a subtle sense of fright that I found interesting. But at that moment, I didn't need the fear, I needed the comfort and the relaxed feeling I got while driving with the radio turned up loud.

I drove home quickly, not too fast, yet not too slow, avoiding all the cars around me and keeping a close eye on the speedometer.

I didn't enjoy the night time. I didn't enjoy driving.

I didn't enjoy anything on my ride home.

Now is not the time to allow those kinds of feelings back into my life.