I haven’t written for months. I haven’t had the time. My spring semester was filled with more of my gen-ed classes, so they weren’t classes I particularly enjoyed. I did well in all of them, even math, but I just did not enjoy my schedule. Even my history class-Historical Methods and Interpretations 270, wasn’t much fun. I didn’t actually learn any history-just how to write it. Which is good, I guess, but boring as hell most days.
I’ve been home for fifteen days now. Jesus. Fifteen days. Feels like an eternity. Two weeks at school would fly by-but two weeks at home have dragged. According to the countdown I have set up, there are ninety days left until the glorious date of August 21st, which is the first day of band camp. I find it sad how badly I want summer to be over. Summer is supposed to be a fun time of relaxation and vacation. I shouldn’t want to pack my car up right now and drive back to school. But I do.
Things have picked up a little bit since I started working. I went around the first Monday I was home to find a job. I got really damn lucky, when the second place I walked into said that they were looking to hire. I’m getting at least thirty hours a week there, which is awesome seeing as I have to come up with $1500 dollars for the Germany trip next May. Work is good. I keep busy so it goes pretty quickly and my bosses are really nice. I like working with cute dogs all day long. I’m already scheduled to work over breaks which is a relief to know that they want to keep me on through the school year. It keeps me out of the house and it’s keeping my finances afloat. My schedule is flexible enough so that I do have a few days off a week, but I’d almost rather be working almost every day and making money.
Being home has made me thankful for the people I met this year at school. My friends from college are the most amazing group of people I’ve ever met. Amanda and I talked about this once when we went to Dunkin Donuts one day. How we feel closer to the people we’ve met here only months ago than we do to the people at home that we’ve known for years. And for the most part, I do. I do still have friends at home, but there’s a lot less of them that I count as close. It’s also made me realize how little I mean to many people back here. I’m sick and tired and done with people that only talk to me when they need me or when they have problems. I realized that when I got a phone call one day from someone I considered a friend. She had gotten hurt and wanted me to tell me what was wrong. I myself was sick from my allergies and was suffering from a double ear infection. She didn’t give a damn about me or what was wrong with me. When she asked how I was, I said I’d been better, because anyone that’s ever had a double ear infection can tell you that’s the truth. Her exact reaction was “Oh,” before she dove into her own issues.
Really now? Really? I’m done putting up with people. Friendship is a two way street. And I fully believe that. I still have friends from high school that still care about me; I know that because they also put in an effort to keep our friendship alive while I was at school. From my high school class, that didn’t happen with the people I once called friends. I’m done with being the only one trying to have a relationship with people. I’m done. I don’t care if I sound like a bitch, but I’m really over people that don’t care enough to text or call just to see how I’m doing.
This is why I miss the people that really count. My best friends from school. We’re all strewn out about the area that it’s going to be hard to all get together because gas is so damn expensive and we’re all poor college kids. But I know we’ll get together at least once to go see Deathly Hallows Part II, and there will be MusikFest and other things we all want to go to. So hopefully they happen. And if not, we’ll just pick up where we left off, going to Johnny’s for breakfast during band camp and actually knowing what we’re doing a little bit better this time around. And in my suite next year, with nine awesome people. Being neighbors with the best neighbor ever, for the second year in a row and getting into crazy misadventures with her. Having a single on the top floor, in the best building on campus. I can’t fathom what’s going to happen next year, but I know it’s going to fly. And I’m excited for it to start, but scared for it to end.
And I think the summer will get better once my high school friends are done for the year. They still have a month left, but now that things are starting to wind down they’ll be around more and we’ll be able to hang out properly. I miss them all, so much. They’re what still matters to me in this town, because not much is keeping me here any more. They’re closer to me than everyone from school, so I’ll be able to see them on a more regular basis. We’ll be able to laugh and play and swim and drive around with the windows down just doing the stupid little things that create memories and strengthen friendships. And I’m so excited for that.
Being home and pretty solitary has made me truly realize what I have. My relationship hasn’t suffered from the distance between us, although thankfully it’s not too far. We’ve already seen each other twice, once for Emma’s birthday party and the other for commencement celebrations. The next time we’ll see each other is Memorial Day, so I’m hoping this week goes by quickly. We’re going to try to make time for each other, but we’re both working and he’s got things to do and so do I. I’m not one for sap or gush, but this is real. I love every moment together and apart. We don’t have a ‘song’ or anything, we have like thirty. We’re both not perfect people, and we accept that about each other. We had a strong friendship going into the relationship, and we still have that. We can talk to each other about anything. He’s one of the few people I feel comfortable completely opening up to which is the first time that a boyfriend has made his way into that category. He understands that my last…whatever you call it…convinced me that I was worthless, that I was nothing, that I was just some stupid whore. Kevin knows my story and he accepts me for the good and the bad. He’s made it his goal to fix me and get me to believe what he tells me, that I am beautiful, that I am the best, that I am amazing. I know his story, the good and the bad, as well. And I’m so lucky to have him in my life.
I’m looking forward to the future, but I don’t want to completely skip over the summer, despite every desire I have to make it August. I want to have a fun summer with friends I haven’t seen in a while and make the memories like I had last summer. Here’s to an amazing freshman year, and to the years that are gonna follow. Soon enough, it’ll be time to collect my things and head home.
pour your empty heart in it but finish what you started 