Wednesday, November 4, 2015

Thoughts at 4:29 AM

I miss being in love.

Sure, I miss them too. Of course I do. They made me happier than I ever thought possible. But I just miss being in love.

I miss waking up each day just knowing that they were out there thinking of me, and that I was also thinking of them. I miss the late night conversations where one of us eventually had to say "I think we should probably go to bed." I miss feeling important to them. I miss being someone's priority in life. I miss kissing and holding hands and watching movies and cuddling and everything we ever did. I miss having the time of my life with the person I wanted in my life the most.

I miss talking about getting married and being with each other all the time. I miss dreaming that that could happen one day. Even though they were only dreams, they never seemed too far away. Now it seems like a lifetime ago I met you, and I wish I never had. It is indeed better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.

But the pain is still a bitch.

Yes, I know they're not "the one" and "the one" is still out there waiting for me. But couldn't they have found me before I ended up falling in love with someone else? Now I have to start all over. I know ending a relationship is never easy on either side. I've been on both sides. But it sure as hell is a lot worse to be on the receiving end than to not be.

I hope she's happy. As much as it might hurt me to see her happy, I hope she is. Because it would be selfish of me to wish unhappiness just because. I hope she dates a lot of people. And I hope she finds someone who is perfect for her. I figured, the relationship ended for a reason right? One of us should be happy. If it isn't going to be me, it should be her. It should be her anyway.

I'm sorry I wasn't everything you needed. I wanted to give you everything I had, and I hope I did. I know I shouldn't be sorry, but I am. I wanted us to be together forever, but I guess the universe had other plans. And that's okay. We'll both be as happy as we could possibly be one day. Whether that's together or not isn't up to me.

I will still always care for you. I will never forget the girl in the blue dress. The girl who changed my life.

Love,

Ardon

Tuesday, October 6, 2015

My Happiness

My heart raced as our fingers intertwined for the first time. "I don't usually do this on the first date," you said. "Neither do I." Your eyes gazed into mine in that moment, and I feel I could have lived in that car forever. Lived in that moment forever, with you. And that long drive seemed like it never ceased to end and I didn't mind in the slightest. The winding road was painted with an endless repetition of lines dividing the road, and my mind was painted with an endless repetition of you. And that repetition was endless, and countless as the stars that shine.

And I realized in between the moments where the rain fell as I asked you the scariest question of my life to the moment you first kissed me on the cheek, that you might be something special. I couldn't have imagined a more perfect amount of time spent with a more perfect person. From the moment you asked me if I liked Star Wars to the moment we first opened up to each other about previous relationships, I knew I couldn't be the same person after knowing you. And from the moment that night ended to the moment I saw you again, I knew I had fell for you. "No..." I said longingly "This is the end to the best night of my life."

"There will be more. I promise"

---------------------------------------------------------------

I grabbed the plates from the kitchen and said "All you have to do is follow me downstairs." I saw the look of confusion and excitement cover your face as I started to lead the way. I opened the door to the stairs and revealed the five candles lining the side of the stairs. And as we rounded the corner I saw your eyes light up just as bright as the Christmas lights I had hung over the table. As I put down our individual plates on either side of the table, I wondered "Is tonight the night?" I didn't know if it was too early for me to do what I was about to do, but I wanted to more than anything in the world. "Shrimp scampi? That's fancy." You said to me with a more-than-pleased smile. I pulled out your chair for you before walking over to my side of the table.

My heart was racing now more than ever. After a couple minutes of eating and conversation, I turned my body around to plug my phone into my speaker. I pulled up one of your favorite songs, and then turned to you to ask "Will you dance with me?" As the light melody of Frank Sinatra's "You Make Me Feel So Young" danced around my eardrums, I held you close, and you held me back. Then you whispered to me "I love this song." And in that moment, I pulled away so your eyes could meet mine and I said the words I had waited to say; "I love you."

"I think I love you too."

----------------------------------------------------------------

I prepared anxiously for your arrival. I popped a mint into my mouth and thought "I'd better brush my teeth too." I scrambled up the stairs to my bathroom and layered on a thick layer of toothpaste onto the bristles of my toothbrush. As I scrubbed the inside of my mouth, I thought to myself "Is this what I want? Should I do this? Of course I do. I love her. But does she want it? I guess we'll find out." After I completed my task, I ran back down the stairs again in hopes I had enough time to prepare for your visit. I grabbed the piece of paper I had already set aside and grabbed the closest pen I could find and began to scribble the message I had planned onto the paper. I tucked it away in my back pocket and sat on my couch. Patiently waiting. You rang my doorbell and shot out of my seat and scurried over to the door and I unlocked it. As soon as I opened the door I flung my arms around you and picked you off the ground and took you inside. A couple of minutes of us catching up and sitting on my couch had passed before I thought to myself "Okay. This is it."

I reached into my back pocket that contained the piece of paper. I pulled it out and said "This is for you." As you took it from my hands I saw a small smile come across your face, and you said "Cute." It was folded into fourths and the outside layer had your name on it with a heart next to it. You unfolded the paper to reveal a page that said "Will you be my girlfriend? (Check Yes or No)" I saw your small smile transform into a moment of overjoyed laughter. You then took the pen laying on the table and checked "Yes" and we looked at each other with a satisfied feeling in the air. "I love you," you said.

"And I love you."

And I still do. And I will. For as long as you'll have me.

Love,

-Ardon

Tuesday, June 2, 2015

I Promise

Let me just say that this post was inspired by one of my closest friends. He doesn't read my blog, and he probably doesn't even know that it exists. But he's the reason I have happiness in my life now. He inspired me to write this post because of a song he wrote, which was a beautiful song that I'm keeping on my phone forever. Anyways, here goes.

Hi, it's me again. There's a lot of things I just can't do. I can't play guitar or piano. I can't do a backflip. I can't fly a plane. I can't change the oil in my car. I can't speak spanish. I can't write you a song to show you how much I care about you. I can't do any of that. But there are a lot of things I can do, and I can promise you them.

I promise to take you on dates.
I promise to cry at the end of Phantom. Every time.
I promise to buy you JCW's shakes whenever you want.
I promise to call you "babe" because you like it.
I promise to always respond to your texts.
I promise to cuddle with you during movies.
I promise to hold your hand in the car.
I promise to sing "The Last Five Years" with you.
I promise to go on that fall hike with you.
I promise to leave you speechless.
I promise to treat you the way you deserve to be treated.
I promise to write blog posts about you.
I promise to let you be greedy with me.
I promise to give you that massage.
I promise to call you beautiful every day.
I promise to make you as happy as possible.
I promise to never let you forget how much I care for you.
I promise to support you.
I promise to buy you orange roses.
I promise to kiss you on the forehead.
I promise to trust you.
I promise to wipe away your tears.
I promise to hold you forever.
I promise to always miss you.
I promise to let this be different than all the other ones.
I promise that I won't be perfect.

But I promise to love you.

Sunday, May 24, 2015

Writers Block

For the past four days I've been trying to write a blog post about how I feel. And I have three drafts in my posts all about the same thing. You. And I can't post them. Because they suck. And because you give me writers block.

You give me writers block because all I can think about is you and I don't know how to put that into words. 

All I ever want to do is be around you and hug you. And just talk the day away with you. We can talk about Star Wars or the past relationships we've had. Or we can talk about how amazing the one we have right now is. Because it is. Because we are practically the same person. And we love all the same stuff, and that's wonderful, but the exciting part to me is all the new stuff that we'll discover we love together. I know that if we do that, we won't ever get bored with each other. Even if we are the same.

I want to watch every single movie on our list. Every single movie musical, every single comedy, drama, tragedy, whatever it is. I don't care about the movies. I care about YOU sitting next to me watching the movie.

I want to go on long drives and hold hands with you on those drives because that's my favorite thing to do. I want to Skype you and text and snapchat and all that stuff. AND I WANT TO WRITE BLOG POSTS ABOUT YOU. But you give me writers block. And you leave me speechless. Typeless. Whatever.

You're amazing. Oops. I wrote that. 

And I want to play video games with you. Does that make me trash? Maybe. But YOU haven't picked up an Xbox controller in five years and I need someone to play Lego Star Wars with. You can be Obi-Wan. 

You make my heart and my mouth go a million miles an hour because I can't help it. You fascinate me and you turn me on (in the most non-creepy way possible) and you make me feel different feelings than any of those other girls I used to date. All the ones that hurt me and made me super afraid to even talk to you. But boy am I glad that I put on my big boy pants and grew some balls so I could have the courage to talk to you. I will be forever grateful for H&M and that blue dress. Forever.

I will be forever grateful to Japanese food and Sushi. And I will be forever grateful to the Book of Genesis in the Bible. I will be forever grateful to FitBits for running out of battery and public high school concerts that happen in the gym. And I'm forever grateful to In N Out shakes for being thick. And I will be forever grateful to blue hearts for being the best thing in my life right now. And I will be forever grateful to you. You amazing, funny, sweet, caring, gentle, beautiful person. 

Well, there it is. The blog post that's been waiting four days to happen. And I know you're reading this. So, hi. You're really cute and beautiful and I like you a lot. So here's to you. And here's to us. And here's to writers block.

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Picnic Baskets or Something Like That

I want to go on a picnic. 

I want to go on a picnic with you.

I want to spread out a blanket in a park and eat picnic food on a picnic with you.

I want to go on this picnic because we compliment each other so well. We also give compliments to each other really well, and we always say something like "Stahp" or "You're so sweet" or "You're cute" or SOMETHING LIKE THAT. I think you are legitimately one of the most beautiful people I've ever met, and you tell me I'm adorable. And when YOU compliment ME, I couldn't ask for a better feeling because you are the person that makes me feel the warm tingly thingy or whatever it is that people call "a crush" or "love" or SOMETHING LIKE THAT.

Our hugs are hugs that other people could only wish for. It's the cutest because I pick you up and I hold you in the air for like thirty seconds or something like that and then when I put you down we always manage to look into each other's eyes and every moment is like I'm seeing you for the first time. Again. And again. And again and again and again. And people can only dream of that. 

You know, it's hard for me to let go of relationships. And I know it's hard for you too, because we connect on that level. I've only had four "relationships" in my life. They all take me months to finally come to peace with. You know about the last "relationship" I had and how hard it was for me to let go. 

You are the reason I'm letting go. 

And you know, that might be weird to say, but who cares? You help me feel like I'm happy again. And again. And again and again and again. 

All I want is to go on a picnic.

All I want is to go on a picnic with you.

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Plane Rides Are Not Nice

I hate plane rides and I hate being nice.

You see, I've never liked plane rides. They take too long, there's not enough leg room, and apparently I sleep with my mouth open. I hate that so much. 

I hate plane rides because I hate that feeling in your stomach when you're taking off or when you're descending. I hate planes because turbulence is the scariest thing ever. I hate plane rides because you can be in a plane filled with hundreds of people and feel like the only person in the world.

I hate plane rides because even though I'm at the highest elevation I've ever been at, I feel the lowest I've ever felt. It just makes me think of home and how I'm not there yet. It makes me think of all the times I'm missing and all of the times I could have made, but I wasn't there. 

I hate being nice. 

I hate being nice because it's not worth it anymore. At least, that's what it feels like. I hate that I'm too good of friends with everybody. I hate that every single relationship I have practically goes nowhere. My best friends will find new friends or romantic interests and they go farther and farther in a relationship while OUR relationship stays on the same plain. It never moves. 

I'm not passive-aggressive, but I am passive. I'm too passive to speak my mind and express my feelings. I'm too afraid to ask people to love me. I'm too afraid to ask for help. I'm too afraid of pushing people away because God knows I've done that too much. 

I hate the fact I'm sitting on this goddamn plane feeling worthless. I hate planes because it makes me hate being nice and that is the worst thing. I hate that I'm sitting on this goddamn plane and all I want is for her to come and sit next to me but instead she's sitting next to him. I hate that she says that she hates him but in all reality, they can't get enough of together.

Don't worry, I don't like her, it's just... God. 

All that matters is that I hate planes.

And I hate being nice.

Friday, February 27, 2015

Choose To Stay

Are you okay?

How are you holding up?

How are you?

Are you all right?

Are we broken?

Everyone says that in a year or two this won't matter 
But I dare you to tell that to everyone at Lone Peak right now.
Every single time someone says some bullshit like that
I feel like the mad hatter

And I just want to take my fist and punch it right through the wall
Because those people are taking my wrists and slitting them and
They will not refuse to take it all

To take every single happy memory I've ever had at this school.
Every single time I felt cool
And every single time I broke a rule
And every single time I felt like a fool for believing them

You know, a sentence came out of my mouth today
And when I looked up the sky was gray
And I couldn't believe what I was about to say

Then I had to stop myself and say "Wait,
Do I want to say something that carries this weight because my world is progressing at a rate where I don't want to say anything anymore."

I simply said "Every time this happens..."
And then I stopped
And it seems like it doesn't matter how hard we fought
Because we can't seem to win the fight.

How can you fight a war that
You feel like you're doomed in?
How can you fight a war
If every soldier is wounded?

We are the soldiers and that goddamn school is a battlefield
And it's not like the teachers aren't doing their job
But if they wanted to talk to every student in the school that's ever had a suicidal thought,

They'd have 2500 faces staring back at them.

It's the reality of the situation 
Because as a teenager we have all these restrictions
Depression is the master of infliction
And none of us may be able to see it until it's finally constricted us.

I love you, okay?
And no matter what I say from this point on, I do. 
Don't give up. 
Come what may,
Find a reason.
And choose to stay.

RIP Terik.

-Ardon Bennett Franklin Smith