Hello, blogger people.
I haven't used that line in months, practically a year. Once upon a time, I was incessantly chanting, 'Hello Youtube people,' and causing one of my mates from England to have nightmares; or so he jests. I got to thinking this morning (which for the first time, did not result in random smoke and beads of sweat) about where I was nearly 5 months ago and where I am now. My only apology is that this blog may seem either selfish (as in self indulging, rather) or completely biased.
I came across some of the blogs I posted around this time last year and was crestfallen (<-- a new word to my vocabulary thanks to J.K. Rowling). The things I said in those blogs just blows my mind. I'll save u the time in looking for them, because (I remember now why) I hid the page that has those blogs and created this one. It was rather scary. In retrospect, and mentioning a movie by the name of 'According To Greta,' I can see how older folks don't often miss being young. It's because they aren't even that person anymore (The movie I mentioned has said reason for not wishing you were still younger).
But I don't wanna talk about that really. It's not much of a revelation that people go a metamorphosis from time to time, regardless of how crestfallen I feel while looking back. I guess what i'm trying to impart is that it finally makes sense to me why we must only keep pressing on. Why constantly be the same person? I tried to get back, even a parcel of who I used to be; but as I said recently as I deleted my facebook: "I've lost interest."
I once made a comparison to ones life as several books full of chapters. When one chapter ends, another begins. When those chapters have cumulated into a bigger picture, one book of your life is finished. Now, when you finish a book in a series, what do you do? You strive to get your hands on the next book in the series. Why should your life be any different? The only difference is that the pen in your hand, and you are the author of the books of your life.
Not to boast, but i've read the first 6 books of the Harry Potter series within the time frame of 2 months. Each book got better than the last, even though when I first read the Chamber of Secrets for the first time many years ago, certain things in it (like when Harry plunges a basilisk fang into Tom Riddles Diary and Ink or Blood bursts forth from it and the memory of Tom Riddle explodes in a burst of light) didn't make sense to me right away. Not until I saw the Half Blood Prince did that particular book in the series make any sense to me.
But I kept going along with the story in hopes that one day it would make sense. Look at your life now. Haven't there been things where at one time, something didn't make any sense? Then, eventually, you finally get the bigger picture and you sprout meaning from whence you originally did not. Sometimes it takes several books, or to be more literal, more years of experience, to make sense out of stuff. Someone wise once said, 'When we think we know it all, we know nothing. When we know we know nothing, we know it all.'
Naturally, i'm not the only schmuck who can come to this conclusion (not that any of you are schmucks, I just refer to myself as a schmuck when I reflect on my 'idiot-moments.' LoL). So for those of you who already realize this, you can understand where i'm comimg from. Now where i'm going with this may be your confusion. I posted this on my tumblr, but removed it because I did not feel I did the blog justice, nor is it really something that I felt was complete in meaning. To me, even blogs should have meaning, otherwise, what's the point? And who wants to come to someone's page and read all random blurbs?
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Once upon a time, or 5 years ago rather, I began a relationship (or more of an endeavor to get to know someone whom i'd just met) with my first-ever boyfriend. Fate always is a fickle thing and, as they say, it dictates the path. Sometimes we have to learn things before we can become the master of our fate. You wouldn't catch me admitting this when I was a teenager, but it's true; Teenagers do not know it all (*the noise of one of my haters ripping out the front page reverberates throughout the room*). To be frank, I was a moron when I was a teenager; that's not negativity, that's blunt honesty (LoL) and I do not endeavor to be that teenage form of me ever again.
I got to know this guy to a point and whatever the reason was that things didn't work out, time shall tell. As I have stated, sometimes we don't know the meaning of things until later; though of course, I have that theory: I was a moron.
Eventually throughout the course of 5 years, I had (one at a time) boyfriends that I could count on one hand. Relationships that lasted for what i'd think is a respectable amount of time (yeah, I have a very crude opinion of one night stands). I'm single, so obviously all have ceased to exist. With the exception of the purpose of this blog.
One of the guys I was with, he was my life partner twice; which is a cryptic way of saying I was under the impression we were going to eventually venture to either California or Massachusetts and get married. The way I see it now, life goes on, and I have a lot of happy memories to cherish and now, I am on chapter one of the next book of my life.
Sometimes when you have a history, the past catches up with you. Especially, if you still feel something for someone without realizing it. One morning, I woke up to the doorbell. After answering the door. Kaboom! My very first boyfriend stood there. I was speechless and absentmindedly stared at him for a moment till he said, "Hello to you too." Then I attempted to regain composure and said, "Sorry, grogginess, you know. Hello."
This is going to be the most incredible (and i mean the other meaning; where it's not credible) thing I could possibly say right now. It was like the last 5 years never happened. The moment I saw him I felt something.
Dorkishly including this song because whenever i'm online, I listen to it a couple times and think about him. Though, parts don't fit anymore because I do miss him now. This is more how I felt when i saw him at my door.
When he came to see me, I had only been back home a week. It took us quite literally months to be able to find two days in a row that we could manage to see each other. I went to go see him by bus and had no idea where I was going because my thinking was: 'Okay. It's been 5 years. I have no idea how to get to his place anymore." So i asked him what his address was, which I admit, i'd forgotten the address, but when the bus went over a bridge, something gnawed at me to look up and to my right. I did and just in time to. I recognized the back of his townhouse. I waited to pull the little 'dinger' thing/doo-hickey but when I did, I just felt it was the right time to. I got off the bus, thinking that he still hadn't texted me to tell me the address (he was at work and sneaking me text messages); so I ventured forth following my gut feeling. Suddenly, I remembered the name of his street and looked to my right and saw his townhouse.
I looked down at my phone and saw the address he sent me. I looked up at the townhouse, which each building has two sides; and the address on the phone matched that of the building. I was like, "Okay...eerie that I remembered." But is it really? Love defies logic, they say. Then I broke into his apartment (calm down! I had permission. The door was unlocked, which I locked upon entering LoL). Then we had a lovely visit and now we are working to merge our schedules together again...oh I probably should mention this: It's difficult to merge our schedules together because he lives in another city.
It may be premature to say, but I feel something different. Something I never thought i'd feel again and as with any good book, i'm on the edge of my seat thirsting for what happens next and hoping it's epic.
And as far as being home again, I guess, looking back, I had been wanting to come back home all the time. Though I envisioned it being with my then life parter, a positive way to look about this is that I got half of what I wanted. I didn't get to keep my then life parter for life, but I did get to come home to stay.
It really pays off focusing on the good things rather than the bad stuff. Reading David Archuleta's Memoir taught me that.
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