Brain Goop

I feel like writing something.

But...at the same time, I don't.

I guess I will anyway.

You know, it wasn't too long ago that I made this blog. I thought that maybe I had some thoughts soaring around in my brain that other people might actually be interested in reading. I thought maybe I could write in a way that would, possibly, cause someone to see something they never had before. Maybe I could...I don't know...say something meaningful. Or whatever.

Maybe I was kidding myself. And maybe I still am.

I've never been a "popular" person. (I didn't expect to become so on this blog either, just so we're clear.) I've never had people falling over themselves to be my friend. In fact, I've never had more than about 3 or 4 friends at one time (and that's being generous with the word "friend").

And while I'm being honest...

I've never felt very important to anyone. (Except my Mommy.)

I would love to say that I'm very self-assured. I'd love to think that I have great self-esteem. I wish I could tell you that I don't have any insecurities. But if I did, I'd be a liar. And based on what I've written above, you wouldn't believe me anyway.

Truth is...

I am insecure in who I am. I crave acceptance and friendship and love. When someone is nice to me or compliments me, I question their motives. Or I think to myself, "Eh, they're just trying to be polite. They don't really mean it."

I used to be worse. When I was a teenager I had extremely low self-esteem to the point that I was convinced that I was ugly and that must be why no boys ever talked to me and why I had very few friends. It took a long time for me to get past that and actually find some things that I liked about myself. But I still struggle. I still fight to gain confidence in myself.

Don't get me wrong; I don't mean to sound as if I believe that having many friends makes you an important person, or that your self-worth comes from how many friends you have. That's not true at all. That's also not to say that the way people treat you doesn't affect or contribute to the image you perceive of yourself. That's definitely a contributing factor.
But it's hard not to care what people say or think about you. Especially people who are important figures in your life, such as a parent, sibling, teacher, pastor, etc. And I'm sure everyone has been careless with their words and has had rotten attitudes toward someone when they should have been more careful, needing to realize that they are very capable of hurting and/or damaging someone else.

I'm also not trying to blame other people for my lack of self-esteem, so I hope I haven't given that impression. I guess what it comes down to, the point I hope I'm getting across, is that, throughout my life I've experienced certain situations and come in contact with certain people (and still am) that have all contributed to the fact that I'm not as self-assured as I wish I was.

If there was one thing that I could say to people about it, I think it would be this: look around you. Look at the people nearest to you; people you are closest to and really, honestly, try your best to evaluate your treatment of them. How do you interact with them? How do you show them that you care and love them? Is it in a way that they can understand? You may not realize how important it is to someone to show them that they are important to you. You may think, "Well of course they know they're important to me!" Do they, though? Are you sure? Try to think of the things you do on a daily basis to let the people who are most important to you know that they are loved. If you just say it but don't actually do anything to follow it up, it doesn't count. It's empty. Meaningless. I know this sounds cliche, but, "Love is a verb."

Of course, there are some people who are so entirely insecure that no matter how much you try to show them that they are valued and loved and treasured, it doesn't seem to make a difference. They refuse to believe you and wallow in self-pity and stay stuck in that place until one day they finally find it within themselves and truly believe that they are valuable. Until they get to that point, it won't matter how many times you try. The important thing though, is that you do try. Your words and actions have more power than you may realize.                 

A Series of Events Part 5

I find myself, more and more, reminiscing over past events. Some days I sit for hours at a time replaying conversations and other memories in my mind. At times it seems hard to grasp them, as if they are lost in a thick fog and I'm stumbling around trying to find them and pull them out.

But I remember this one clearly.

It was the day we were supposed to leave for our beach trip. I was the last one to be picked up. My anticipation had been building up all week and I'd gotten up early that morning to double check my bags, wanting to make sure I had everything.
I was watching by the window for Matt's jeep to pull into my driveway, and as soon as I saw it, I said goodbye to my parents, grabbed my bags, and headed out the door. I went straight around to the back and opened the hatch to toss my bags inside. A boy came around from the side of the jeep to help me. I didn't recognize him. This boy had dark hair. It was buzzed. I stared, a confused, uncomprehending look on my face, I'm sure. But then the boy smiled and I looked carefully into his face. Glittering green eyes.

"What the heck happened to your hair?" I exclaim in astonishment. I would have never guessed that Matt would buzz all his hair off. He laughs at me.
"It was too hot. Not very practical beach hair." I laugh then, too. He looks so different.
"So this is your natural color?" I ask. I'm sure it must have been there underneath the blond, but this is the first time I've actually seen it.
"Yeah, I figured I'd go natural for a change," he says. We're done loading up my bags. Anne and Rock are in the backseat. Of course Anne would make sure I ride up front with Matt.

I keep glancing over at him as we make our way to the beach. No more hippie hair. I can't help but wonder if he's telling the whole truth about why he cut it. Did Anne mention something to him about my not being attracted to blonds? Would Matt really cut off all his hair for that sole reason? Instead of feeling good that he would do something like that for me, I feel sort of guilty. Matt is a really good guy and I don't want him to feel like he has to change for me. I may never return his feelings. I may never see him as anything other than a friend. I want to be fair to him. He deserves that. 
I decide that, if it comes up and he broaches the subject, I'll be straightforward with him about how I feel.

As we travel we all talk about our plans for the weekend. The guys want to buy boogie boards. Anne and I both agree that the Aquarium is a must. Rock groans, but Matt seems interested.
"Why don't you want to go to the Aquarium, Rock?" Anne asks, sounding annoyed. "They've got sharks!"
"Really?" He seems to think about this for a second. "Well, I guess we can check it out for a little while." Guys and sharks. I don't get it.

As soon as we arrive we go straight to the hotel to check in and take all the bags up to our room. I notice the balcony right away. The view is beautiful; it looks out over the beach. Sand and sea and sky. I breathe deeply, welcoming the salty scent that floats on the ocean breeze.
"Isn't it gorgeous?" Anne says, coming up beside me. She leans against the railing, her arms crossed.
"It is," I say. "It's beautiful. I bet the sunrise is magnificent out here." She laughs a little and says, "Well you can get up at the crack of dawn if you want to, but this is a vacation and I plan on sleeping in. Because, you know, that's what you're supposed to do while on vacation."
"So, what do you guys want to do first?" Matt asks, coming out onto the balcony and sitting in one of the deck chairs arranged next to a small table in one corner.
"Get some lunch," Rock says. He's standing just inside the doorway. He's not exactly the friendliest guy on the planet.
"Okay, that's one option. Anyone else?" Matt asks. A warm breeze blows against him, making his red long-sleeve t-shirt tighten around his upper body. I'm struck again with the thought that he's been working out. I can see the outline of muscles that definitely weren't there before.
Anne nudges me with her elbow. "Huh?" I mumble, glancing at her. She grins. "Where have you been? I asked if you wanted to go out on the beach now or eat lunch first." I didn't even hear her.
"Oh. Um... Actually I am kind of hungry."
"Lunch it is!" Matt announces, jumping up and leading the way.

Out here on the beach, with the sound of the ocean waves crashing onto the shore, all the things that seemed so important back home don't really hold that much weight anymore. My worries appear so much smaller somehow. Maybe it's the vastness of the ocean or the way the sky looks so much bigger. Either way, the beach is a great place to relax and recharge.
Strangely, there aren't as many people as I was expecting. Anne lies on a giant beach towel, tanning. She insisted on going back to the hotel after lunch to change into her bikini. She told me I should try to tan also, to do something about how pasty I look, but I just laughed and walked off.
Matt brought a frisbee which he and Rock are tossing back and forth near the water. I can hear them hollering to each other and laughing loudly.
I decide to go for a walk up the beach. Matt sees me and waves. I smile and wave back.
I haven't walked very far when he comes jogging up alongside me. He slows to match my pace.
"Where did you leave Rock?" I ask.
"He wanted to go get the boogie boards, so I gave him my keys." We're both quiet as we walk, enjoying the atmosphere.
"I love it here," Matt says after a few minutes.
"Me too. I wish I could live here. It's lovely." We walk farther down the beach a little ways and then I feel his hand gently wrap around mine.
I stop. He takes a few more steps and then he stops too. I'm not sure what to say exactly. I ease my hand away from him. I don't want to injure him with my words, but I already made a decision to be fair to him.
"Matt," I say, wanting it to come out right. "I like you, but...as a friend. I value our friendship and it is very important to me. But I...I just can't offer you anything other than that. I don't have those kinds of feelings for you." I try to smile a little, to lighten the weight of what I've just said. As if that will help somehow. For a second I'm not sure what he'll say. He looks at me and his eyes are the only things that betray him. I can see the slightest bit of pain in those mesmerizing green pools. And deep inside of me, I feel that pain too.
Then he breaks the silence. He says, "You might not feel anything for me now, but do you think it's possible that later on, after some time, you could feel something for me?" That pain stabs more fiercely. Why is he doing this to me? Why? I swallow hard and work to remain composed. I say, "I don't know. It wouldn't be fair for you to hold out hope if it's not ever going to happen. I don't want you to be even more disappointed. And I also don't want to jeopardize our friendship by putting unnecessary pressure on it to be something other than what it is." I hate saying these things because I know it's not what he wants to hear, but I have to get it all out in the open now. I'm worried that I've crushed him, but he surprises me and smiles.
"You're right, Bay. I don't want to put any pressure on you or our friendship. I have the highest respect for you as a person and as my friend. But it's impossible for me to stop hoping that your feelings will change. I won't bring it up again, but I need you to know that I'm not giving up." He smiles brightly at me, his eyes hopeful. I shake my head and smile back at him. When I look into his eyes again I can still see traces of pain mixed with hope, and my heart aches.