Nonexistent

Throughout my day, you are nothing.
Not a thought, not a memory.
Stretched too thin, clawing at calmness in the face of calamity.

You are between the scratches; the wounds.
The sizzle of an egg on the stove – reparation.
The toe tapping gently to sounds of an era in which you belong.
The slip of sultry whiskey, fire within me.
The whiff of tainted lungs, harsh habits and painted skies.

You live your life as an afterthought.
Content in passing, floating through lives in tormented search of belonging.
Scorching others in your path, branding them with memories.

For you too have kissed the sun and been plunged into darkness.
A gentle quiet, love unbound,
Before whispered betrayal reached her lips.

And you too were scarred.

 

Freudian Philosophy

Like many people, I’ve always been interested in dreams. Unlike many people, I think it’s because my dreams are really weird.

I lucid dream fairly often. I didn’t realize what I do is considered lucid dreaming, I just always thought that my dreams were subject to my suggestions. As it’s hard to recall memories, I can’t think of great examples. I know the lucidity can go both ways, where sometimes what I suggest can be good or bad, for example I’ll be in a dangerous situation and think “man it would really suck if this happened” and then whatever I had been thinking of would happen.

In a nicer, more recent example, I dreamed that I was at a house party with Alex, the friend in Australia, and I saw Ryan’s frat brothers start to show up at the party so I excitedly thought to myself No way, what if Ryan were here too. Then after looking outside I saw Ryan and immediately screamed and ran to him. My friends and I haven’t been reunited in almost two years at this point, so that was quite an awesome dream to have.

I also have vivid, plain dreams. The best one I can remember is that in real life I needed to go to the dentist to get a cavity filled. I’m not super afraid of the dentist, but I think we can all agree that no one likes going. So in the dream, I was playing with the tooth that had a cavity, and suddenly it popped out. I was so excited that I ran to the bathroom, where, still in the dream, my sister was showering, and just hopped up and down shouting “Lauren I lost the tooth! I don’t need to get it filled anymore!” to the closed bathroom door. It was quite a disappointment to wake up and still need that cavity filled.

(I believe losing teeth in dreams has been interpreted to mean that someone is about to die or has died recently. However, at that time I don’t recall any deaths in the family.)

I’m not sure how to describe this next one, other than weird. So, full disclosure, I love Harry Potter and Avatar: The Last Airbender. In my dream, it was a crossover between the two worlds. We were playing Quidditch in my court, some of us on brooms, some on flying bison (preparing to be ridiculed for this dream…). I fell off my broom, someone swooped down and handed me a white dandelion, the ones you make a wish from. It slowed my fall, like an umbrella in a cartoon. When I touched the ground, the game ended, and I knew I needed to get something from my room before the next match, so I ran upstairs and laid down on my bed, suddenly tired. I jolted as I remembered I need to get back to the game! And as I sat up in my dream, I woke up in real life, moving from the same exact position in my bed.

Another random example, I remember waking up in the middle of the night to say zoology once…

I have very violent nightmares, often involving a lot of blood. I once had a dream that I was looking down on a protest that suddenly turned into a violent riot with people being torn in half by police.

I remember one time I saw someone being eaten by a plant with vicious teeth, and she cried out to me as she was being eaten alive.

In another example, I dreamed that someone was slaughtering all of the families in my court, and I had watched him kill the first two families. So I ran from my house into one of the neighbor’s houses and was ducking beneath the window, crying, just waiting for the person to find me.

Out of all of those dreams, the one that occurs most often is one where I’m being chased. They come in all variations: I’m being chased by a dark man I don’t know; I’m being chased and he’s gaining on me; I’m being chased and he’s nipping at my heels as I struggle to gain some distance; a man with a knife is so close to catching me that I clutch at the ground like an animal in a desperate attempt to move faster; someone’s chasing me and I have body guards; an animal is chasing me and I’m attempting to run, but when it catches me I try to fight back and delay death as long as I can.

Most of these chasing dreams end with me hyperventilating and scaring myself out of sleep.

I finally looked it up, and apparently chasing dreams mean that you are running from something, generally something that is causing you stress or anxiety, because you do not want to deal with it. The problem goes unresolved.

As I haven’t really been worried about much lately, I’m not sure how accurate this interpretation is, but maybe I have been subconsciously worried about an unresolved issue. I guess I will need to take the time to reflect on what is going on in my life the next time I have a chasing dream.

I definitely think dreams can be important messages, although sometimes dreams are just dreams.

My mom always had dreams that she was in school, running to find a classroom and she was so worried because she was going to be late to class. She was very lost. At the same time in real life, she struggled with her career. She felt lost in that she didn’t know what to do, didn’t think it was her calling in life anymore. When she finally trained to become PRI certified, she found the classroom in her dream. She still has the same dream sometimes, but now at the end of it she can always find the classroom.

Personally, I had dreams about one of the guys I was seeing. He had cheated on me previously, and we were trying to work things out still, but it’s very hard to trust anyone again after being cheated on, especially the actual culprit. Even if things were going well in our relationship, I would have horrible dreams about him where I was either unbearably sad or blindingly furious with him, and he always felt so guilty in person. There was nothing he could do about my dreams, no matter how he reconciled in real life. After a while, I began to trust him again, and the personal problems we faced finally felt like they had worked themselves out. After that, I didn’t have any bad dreams about him.

I’m not sure if this is exactly interesting to read, but I personally think it’s interesting to experience. I’ve always been interested in dreams, so maybe one day I’ll have an “aha” moment of what my more confusing dreams mean.

Able-bodied, able-minded

So much has been going on over the past week. My friends and I are looking for a house tucked into suburban College Park, which would be wonderful since I’m clearly not a big fan of city life. Other than that, my schoolwork has needed my full attention now that we’re winding down.

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I’ve been feeling a bit under the weather recently and my eyes are burning so this likely will be a short post.

I always get so frustrated when I get sick or have allergies. I feel like I have been fighting against my body my entire life. I would always get the stomach bug when I was little, and it became common practice for me to camp out in the bathroom, bring all my blankets and a big chair pillow and be ready the next time I needed to puke. Funny enough, my expertise has been helpful so far in my college career; my roommate was impressed by my bathroom fortress (and my resiliency).

There was a time in seventh grade that I missed 14 days of school because I would be healthy one week then sick the next. I was the kid that needed her homework delivered to her house so she wouldn’t fall so far behind.

I have bad knees that make it hard to run and exercise. I hyper-extended my left knee in high school and sprained my right ankle later that same year. I had plantar fasciitis for the majority of last year which made it difficult to run (and sometimes stand). Now I think I have a torn or irritated muscle in my calf that makes running and HIIT nearly impossible without a limp. I can’t work out the way I want to. I have bad hips that used to pop in and out randomly, though thankfully that has come a bit more under control. One of my ribs is out of place and it sometimes tweaks my neck so that I can’t turn left for about a week.

My stomach problems have carried over into my adulthood, and there’s a very good chance that I have Crohn’s disease, but I refuse to get diagnosed because I hate doctors and it can be difficult to diagnose.

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My mom and I hiking Annapolis Rock summer 2015. She has Crohn’s and has faced insurmountable hardships because of it. Her strength and resiliency inspire me day in and day out.

I’ve been sick with a strange bacteria three times since Christmas, and I think this time it’s mixed with the onset of allergies.

Sometimes I feel like I just can’t win. I exercise regularly, usually seven days a week, and while my eating habits could probably be better, usually my friends joke that all I eat is rabbit food.

It’s very frustrating, not feeling in control of your body. It seems like no matter what you do, nothing will keep it healthy. I’ve had to explain these random injuries to people throughout the years, and I always felt like I was making excuses for my inadequacies, that people didn’t believe my reasoning. They give me a pitiful look and continue on their way.

There was one time in kickboxing that we were lifting light weights, and we were supposed to raise the weight from our side to our shoulders. My mom, a physical therapist, has told me time and again that that move isn’t the greatest for me and strains the muscle in my neck that can cause my rib to move and tweak my neck, and that I should lift from my shoulder to up above my head to release that neck muscle. I, however, hate drawing attention to myself, so I participated in lifting the weights the more dangerous way. After feeling my muscle getting tighter and fearing the worst, I lowered my arms, and the middle-aged woman in front of me (who is kind of prissy) said I shouldn’t be tired since I’m the youngest one there.

That was the first time in my life that I just flashed a grin and didn’t explain my injuries. I didn’t owe her an explanation. I don’t owe anyone an explanation. I am fighting my battle the only way I know how, and it finally dawned on me that I don’t have to waste my time and energy telling someone what they think are made up, bullshit excuses.

While I’m still frustrated at my injuries, I have never let them stop me. For god’s sake, after learning I tore a muscle and shouldn’t do high-impact workouts, I proceeded to run two miles three times that week and go to kickboxing twice (which maybe wasn’t a smart idea, but you get the point). I continue to do my HIIT classes and do some intense cardio nearly every day, and I’m proud of myself for not letting these obstacles prevent me from being happy and achieving my goals.

So to everyone else out there frustrated with how things are working out, just know that you don’t owe anyone an explanation, and that if you want it, you’ll find a way over those obstacles. It’s important to be happy and supportive of yourself and your physical and mental health.

Now, off to find a movie to fall asleep to. The best part of being sick is finally falling asleep.

Cheers!

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Mom suggested we go look at plants after I said I wanted one for my apartment next year. We were just browsing, but I had to snag a picture of my favorite flowers – lilies. Being around so many plants again was amazing; I felt like I was in a jungle!

 

Rose Wine Declaration

Crimson bliss transfers a scarlet glow
while bodies twine and tangle,
the amber bottle drawn across its watercolor tarp.

A blushing taste,
that wicked, vermilion sin.

The ghoulish glare a Van Gogh starry night,
and sweet, azure songs pressed upon
a marbled, technicolor canvas.

Freckled kisses,
clenched and clasped, smooth electric skin.

Rose wine promises trill and whisper,
infrared flames lick at her lungs
an inferno writhing against his affirmation.

Frail divulgence
and a brush of rare artistry.

 

 

Enduring Fate

Coincidence: the day after I post my blog about reflection, and suddenly tonight I’m blogging in Al’s room as she and Hannah write about the pros and cons in their lives in their own journals. I didn’t know they kept journals. Han’s even going so far as to think of solutions for each of her cons. They’re trying to better their lives, and I’m proud of them.

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Last night, I had to read a section of a novel by Waters Turpin called Those Low Grounds for my Literary Maryland class, and I have to say I actually  enjoyed it for once. We’ve gotten to the writing for entertainment part of the class, thank god.

Anyways, it was beautifully written, and there were a few times during the reading that I actually sat back and appreciated the writing. In a class where most of the pieces are written before the Civil War, that’s kind of a rare find.

“He had known toil. He had faced years of grinding disappointment. He had met life bravely, with a purpose in mind, and he had won his reward.”

Turpin was talking about a black man who had worked hard to build his own empire of a farm, but I think many others can relate. We all go through struggles, some of us face more hardships than others. I feel privileged in my life because I know people who have endured more than I could imagine.

And that’s what we do. We endure. We push through, we persevere. When we don’t win, we adapt as a way of rolling with the punches.

I’ve always been the person to believe in fate, that if you’ve given everything you can to something and it still doesn’t work out then maybe it was not meant for you. I want to stress that it doesn’t give anyone permission to be lazy or give up. But sometimes there are signs in the universe that you need to listen to.

I went to yoga again today with Chad. No savasina visions today, and I was a little disappointed, and then he said, “It was when I stopped looking for home in others that I found home inside my own mind and body.”

Maybe that’s not the most monumental advice, and I’m sure Han would crack up at how cheesy it sounded, but I think I needed to hear that and let it sink in. I’ve always been so worried about my relationships with others, wanted to make sure that I’ve had friends everywhere I go, needed to feel wanted by others, and when that doesn’t happen I get offended. I’ll feel like my friends don’t like me or don’t appreciate me.

It’s taken me a while, but I’m starting to realize that technology has made me crazy. It’s set this precedent that because you can talk to anyone at any time thanks to cell phones, social media, and texting, that you should be talking to them at all times, and that’s just not how it goes.

I don’t talk to my family all the time, and I still love them immensely.

I will go weeks without talking to my friends, and our relationships are never damaged just because we were unavailable.

The only place this precedent still seems to loom in my mind is for romantic relationships. I’m caught between my sister saying “you deserve someone who’s going to talk to you all the time, even if you just saw him a few hours ago” and Connor saying “I don’t talk to anyone 24/7, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love them.” I’m still trying to figure out that balance, but I’m confident it will come to me when I’ve met the right person (the person of my fate).

I’m glad I could blog, but it’s getting harder and harder to write (someone kept me up all night last night…), so I’ll close out.

May you find home in yourself, and may you endure fate.

Cheers

Gentle

As I said before, it’s getting down to the wire for my classes, which, unfortunately, means I don’t have as much time for fun things. Instead I’m writing feasibility reports and historical reflections.

I like the idea of reflections, just not the formalities. I wish someone would ask me those prompts in person. What a conversation it would be!

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It was beautifully muggy yesterday evening

I think I’m losing the art of conversation. I don’t know if I just don’t talk as much here, or if I’m really just bad with small talk, but more and more I find it less pressing to talk to people. It’s still nice to have a conversation, but I realized my thirst is not in speaking, but in holding an in-depth conversation. I’m a listener, but that doesn’t mean I can’t express my own thoughts and opinions.

(Speaking of, I finally registered to vote today)

My COMM theory professor from fall semester brought up a recent study performed by one of his colleagues, and it stated that people of my generation were exceedingly good at multitasking. After expoing for two years now, I have no doubt I am great at multitasking. However, the study also said people of my generation scored significantly low in reflection. I remember furrowing my brows at that. What? What did this guy know?

But the more I look around, the more I see that some of my friends don’t reflect on anything. I specifically remember telling Mary “reflection is important!!”, and I’m pretty sure she needed to hear it – you’re welcome, Mary.

It’s like people don’t understand that they can try to answer the “why?” and “how?” questions themselves. “Why do I feel guilty about the way I treated this person?… Because it was the wrong thing to do, wow I should apologize.” “Why is it that I’m unhappy?… Maybe you’re feeling unfulfilled.” “How can I be fulfilled?… Try new things, find what you like.”

Some days I feel like I’m the only person who reflects. Then again, maybe I reflect too much. I’m always in my head when I walk to class or the gym. The gym is usually the only time my brain is absolutely silent, and that’s why it has become my savior over these past few years.

Anxiety? Run.

Sad? Better lace up those shoes.

Stressed? Boy you’re gonna be sore tomorrow!

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Unfortunately, the rest of my body disagrees with me, and it always tries to ruin my progress either by destroying my knees, my heels, or – now – my shins!

Sometimes having a silent mind can be more helpful than being reflective. I take after my mom in that my mind is always running before bed unless I can really tire myself to the point of exhaustion (which hasn’t been difficult since senior year of high school).

Some of my friends are really into eastern philosophies, and I remember trying my hand at meditation. I struggled with it (“Am I doing this right? No I shouldn’t be thinking… I think I got it – damnit no I shouldn’t be thinking!”), but I eventually got the hang of it. It really helped me go to bed. I think it’s similar to that savasina thing at the end of yoga, even if I’ve somehow pictured myself in a different world.

I think my ability to multitask and remain calm is due to my success at meditation. It’s not like you avoid all thoughts that come into your head – you accept them, finish them, and let them slip right on through. I realize I do this when I expo. When I’m suddenly overwhelmed with tickets, I internally scream, and then pull myself together, let the tickets flow out as fast as they flow in. I like the challenge it brings, and I’m always proud of myself at the end of a big rush.

I guess it’s important to find balance then. Multitasking is a great skill of our generation, but don’t forget to reflect. It’s important to balance a fast-paced life with enduring thoughts. It’s how you come to understand yourself and people around you better.

Knowing yourself is the beginning of all wisdom. – Plato

(Never thought I’d ever be the person to quote a Greek philosopher…)

Too Strong to Lose

I had an epiphany today. You ever have those moments where when it finally hits you, it’s like you’ve unlocked secrets within yourself? That “aha” moment where it finally makes sense? Very liberating.

Funny enough, it happened because of a video I saw on Facebook. It was about the bond and love between mother and child. Maybe it was the hangover, but it made me very emotional. I have always struggled between wanting children, but being afraid to. There are a number of reasons, for example I’m horrible with doctors, needles, and pain. I’m not that great with kids, either. Not bad, just not great.

Recently a new concern has popped into my mind: everyone always says they never knew how much they could love something until they had a child. But I know this world can be cruel. What happens when my child has her heart broken by a fool who couldn’t see what she was worth? When other children bully him for his interests and passions? Even at my current age, seeing someone I love in pain hurts me deeply. What happens when someone I created, someone I love on a level I can’t comprehend yet, gets hurt? I imagine it will break me to my core. Part of me is afraid of loving someone that much.

Over the years, I have been left heartbroken by a few people, and it has left me with this wall (to use the cliche). I struggle between being guarded and just letting myself feel freely. I have received broken promises, yet each time I am hopeful that maybe it will be different. It’s getting easier not to get my hopes up, and that’s been discouraging to me in a way.

I feel that I have to let things roll off my back and pretend they don’t hurt me, that I have to hold onto this air of not caring so that I can pretend to myself and to others that I’m not bothered. As if feeling something makes me weak.

But it doesn’t.

My epiphany: loving takes courage.

I’ve heard this before, seen it several times, and I’ve always agreed with the statement, but something in me today just clicked and it finally resonated with me.

It takes courage to make yourself so vulnerable to people. I’m not saying throw yourself headfirst into any feelings you may have, but to be open to loving someone with your whole heart, not withholding anything to protect yourself, is a brave act.

As someone who has been hurt in the past, and I’m not the only one, I have been discouraged from any kind of relationship with someone because I don’t want to feel that pain again, I don’t want to be played for a fool again, I don’t want to have my emotions toyed with again. Loving someone, being in a relationship – it’s taxing. It can be emotionally traumatic.

It’s not uncommon for a bad relationship to turn someone off to the idea of love. They feel it is better to be alone and content than give someone permission to affect their emotions. “Space is just a word made up by someone who’s afraid to get close.”

And that’s true, being alone is the safer option. Depending on your viewpoint, it may or may not be easier, but it is safer; you are responsible for your own happiness. Everyone says this as a way of saying “you’ll be okay, that breakup was rough, but you’ll be okay,” but I think it needs to be acknowledged that yes you were with someone and they made you happy and that’s okay too. I get why you’re sad, and I’m hurting for you, I know they made you happy, but you are also capable of making yourself happy. No, you don’t need a relationship to be happy, but being that close with someone, for most people, is something happy.

So for someone like me who has had some of their happiness ripped away from them by the very people that provided it, it takes courage to be willing to try again. To try and not let your past relationships interfere with a new one, to be excited over new beginnings.

(This stands true for those in platonic relationships as well as romantic ones.)

It’s okay to be afraid, “courage is not the absence of fear.” Fear is healthy. But it’s important to be willing to try again. I feel that I have a lot of love to give to my friends, my family, and my future partner, and I just want to share it with them all. Love is a beautiful thing to share.

I know that one day I will love someone deeply, and they won’t take it for granted. They will keep their promises, they will be brave enough to love me too, and I will be surprised by how much I love them. I will ache when my child is hurting because it is a genuine human emotion, and I will be courageous enough to feel love, joy, and sadness so deeply. I will be happy with myself for taking the leap, and I will be surprised by how strong I am because of it.

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage. -Lao Tzu

I’ll Be There For You

The hum of the A/C, the whir of the dryer, the glare of the lamp against the off-white walls, the animated conversation punctuated with giggles. What a nice lullaby to end the day. I think the constant buzz of city life has finally gotten to me. When I was home last weekend I couldn’t fall asleep, and I think it was because it was so quiet. It’s frustrating – I love quiet.

There’s really nothing to report today, no spontaneous adventure to scatter throughout, no do it for the blog! moment today. Sometimes you need a reminder that doing nothing, having a normal day, is okay. I even wrote about that for my English class.

The other day my friend was telling me how hard it is to make friends here, and I definitely agree. I was fortunate enough to be placed with roommates that I really click with, that I would consider friends based on more than just being stuck living together, and that’s a great feeling to have. We’re all going our separate ways next semester, but at least I can use going to see them as an excuse to get out of the apartment.

What’s better is that some of my friends from home are visiting me tomorrow! After enduring a trying couple of weeks, this is definitely the best medicine I could ask for.

There’s nothing more valuable in my life than the friendships I have made. Funny enough, I met all of these people coming to visit me through working at The Main Cup. I could make my experiences at the Cup its own blog series, but I’ll save that for another “do nothing” day. General idea, I love my job mostly for the people I work with.

So I’m going to take a moment to tell you about some of these special people.

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(Yes, this picture was taken from a video on snapchat. If there’s one thing this blog had been consistent with, it’s low quality pictures with high quality fun.)

This is Timmy, the mastermind behind all of tomorrow’s plans. He started working at the Cup a month or so after me, and back then his curly hair was so long he reminded me of Bernard the Elf from The Santa Claus. He’s always the life of the party with his outgoing, positive personality, and quick-witted sass. Somewhere along the line one of our inside jokes became him being my cat? I don’t even know how that happened, but thanks to this guy I get to see some of my friends from back home tomorrow. And he taught me how to chacha! (Pictured above).

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Left to right, this is Sam, Will, and Roeder on one of the many spectacular nights in Will’s basement.

Sam is musically gifted – I’m talkin’ incredible. He’s also just a kind human being. I remember during June when I was going through a rough breakup, Sam asked me how I was doing and I told him truthfully I wasn’t doing that great and that I was supposed to have the “closure talk” later that day. He texted me that night saying that he hoped it went well because I deserve the best. During that breakup I was shown so much love from so many surprising people, and it really helped me realize that I would be okay, that I was surrounded by love. Sam was one of the people to show that to me, and for that I’m grateful.

Oh boy, what could I say about Will… He has easily become one of my better friends throughout the year because of his sense of humor. Even though his horrible jokes make me roll my eyes, his physical humor has me in tears almost every night I work with him. He also brings Altoids (“you mean, Draco Malfoys”) to work all the time, and it seems like a bonding experience between us for some reason. He also made this video back in high school. He showed it to me on New Years Eve and I was in tears, again, laughing so hard. You just… you have to watch it.

Roeder and I have a funny history. We’re family friends, and my mom goes walking with his mom almost every Saturday morning, and I’d say they’re best friends. Though I’ve known him since I was probably nine or ten, we never really became friends with him until he started working at the Cup. He has this habit of never shutting up, and I remember there were nights that Zac and I would look at each other and say “whose turn is it to yell at him?” I’ve made some attitude-y comments to him at work before, but the good thing is that’s never slowed him down or hurt out relationship. He’s at UMD with me now, and I always have someone to watch the games with and talk to about the latest Marvel movie (my roommates aren’t into sports or superhero movies. Bummer.).

This is Ryan. Unfortunately he won’t be joining us tomorrow, as he goes to school all the way out in Ohio (and I’m hoping to visit him in April – imagine the blog then…), but I felt like I had to include him, and he’s already visited so I’m not really breaking any rules.

We’d both gone to Middletown since elementary school, but I didn’t really get to know him until eighth when we were both part of Fellowship of Christian Athletes (back when we were actively religious), and we immediately clicked and became close friends during that year.

Early high school we didn’t really see each other, but junior year we both had chemistry. Naturally, I was horrible because chemistry is part science, part math, but we got to choose lab partners and eventually we chose to work together. We quite literally rekindled our flame over bunsen burners…

I’ve always been able to talk to Ryan about anything, and so many of my favorite memories involve him: sitting in the trunk of my 4Runner on a hot summer day just killing time; having a few beers around a bonfire, taking turns choosing music; going to Hershey Park in eighth grade (2009) and again in 2015; taking trips to Rita’s, where we would share bites of each other’s flavors, and he would usually end up finishing mine because I take forever to eat; going out every night in Ohio, and staying in every night in Maryland (fun fact, I drove almost 7 hours to see him in Ohio, he drove almost 8 hours to see me at UMD for one night over his break. What an awesome friend.) I would definitely consider him my best friend.

Him and…

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This guy! Alex. He and I have also known each other since eighth grade, when he dated one of my friends at the time (oh those middle school romances). We had a few classes together in high school, and we would always talk but I would’ve considered him an acquaintance at the time. Also during junior year, as I rekindled my friendship with Ryan, he invited me to go longboarding with him and Alex. That’s when it really turned into the golden trio.

Suddenly we were going on these longboarding expeditions all through town and up in Braddock, and most days when I got too tired we would find a place to chill, sit on our boards, and just talk about life. We jokingly called ourselves “RAD” – Ryan Alex Dani – but my favorite is the likeness to Harry Potter – Ryan with his black hair, me, the girl with the brown hair, and Alex, the redhead.

Unfortunately I never took pictures of us all back in high school, so this is the only picture I have of all three of us together, taken a few months back.

During senior year, Alex and I had a bit of a falling out for personal reasons, and at the end of senior year, before we could make up, he and his family moved to Australia. I was devastated, sure I’d never see him again and that I’d just lost a friend forever. I don’t remember when or how it happened, but we started talking again over Facebook, and then we started skyping every once in a while to catch up. We fell back into being friends, and I’m beyond thankful.

Alex has always been protective of me, the older brother, though he’s the youngest of the trio. He and I have deeper conversations, and when I come to him with my problems he will always be the person to tell me what I need to hear, no matter how hard it is. I know he’s just looking out for what is best for me, and I think it’s important that everyone have someone like him in their lives. Lucky me, I have him in mine. I have both he and Ryan in mine. I do get a small sense of pride, saying that one of my best friends lives halfway across the world, and I’m proud of us for staying so close. When I was thinking of studying abroad in Australia, we had even talked about being flatmates! Thanks for the disappointment, ARHU…

(I had to break the rules for Alex. Of course he hasn’t visited me, he’s in Australia, so cut him some slack)

I have several other friends that I didn’t include just because they haven’t visited me yet (I’m lookin’ at you, Mary!), and maybe I’ll make that its own post sometime. I just wanted to share with you how happy I am to know that I have these amazing people in my life, and I am lucky enough to call them my friends.

I can’t wait to make more memories with these people. Look out UMD, The Main Cup is comin’ for ya!