Bastille. Dan Smith. Warfield. San Francisco, CA.
shit…it’s been a year since it all began.
I’m in love. You can say that I’m a descent runner. I guess I’m good at economics. In reality, music is the only thing I love. It drains me and brings me back to life. I miss my hours of rehearsal and practice. It wasn’t a hobby, but it was my life. There are pieces I wish I could perform just one more time, ensembles I want to breathe with just once, and calluses I wish adorned my fingers. I’m obsessed, drunk, thirsty…what ever you want to call it, but I miss my music more than I can describe.
I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately…forgive me for missing you.
Music, friends, and travel.
Tell me what it’s like to not have something to do. An appointment to make, a deadline to meet, or a schedule…because I forgot what it’s like to just breathe. Running from place to place is snipping my patience and life. I just can’t do this anymore. I smile so no one worries, but all I really want is for someone to check in on me. I want someone to be here to trudge by my side. I’m just tired and I feel like no one notices or cares. Help.
Maybe the snow will clear my head.
Don’t expect the world or people to be forgiving. I had this fantasy of having a perfect life. Perfection doesn’t exist, only in God. Everything has its flaws and I didn’t see that. I was hoping for perfect friendships and relationships, but those don’t exist. People aren’t 100% invested in you, and I had to figure that out slowly through high school. I had this daydream that had amazing friends that would be there always, I pretty much expected a movie sort of life. Friends would always be there, family was perfect, and life was seemingly easy. It’s not. I thought that everything would go to my plans. Running would be easy, school also, and colleges would grovel at my feet asking for me to attend. None of that happened. Everything was more difficult that anyone could have described; it’s like doing the Iron Man in track. The 1600, 800, 3200, and 4 by 400 is the most difficult thing to do on a race day. I wasn’t prepared for this hard thing that was sitting heavy in front of me. I wanted, thirsted for things to be easy. Things in life worth having aren’t easy. It would have been nice if someone told me that before I was 18. I held people to too high of a standard and I would get hurt in the end. I would expect things to be better than they would be, and I was let down. Remember that you can only do so much on your side of the bargain, and those that care will reciprocate the same sort of effort.
I just miss my friends.
Wanna know something? Last time I was here we were actually taking. There was nothing between us that was uncomfortable, and I miss that. We were just chill and why did you have to decide that it was time to move on. I’ll never know, but know that I cared a lot.
I remember the last day I preraced. It was cold, I was done with an AP test, and I was alone. That last part made it hard to run. I had almost never preraced alone. The cold air and the fact that this was probably the final one I would ever do lay heavy in my mind. I cried for many reasons, and I wish I could go back and run just one more practice as a high schooler. Any practice whether it be the hardest or the easiest, but just one more. That’s all I want.
For once I stood up for myself. I done good. The image of your face right before I walked away will be there for a while, and I’ll never know exactly what you thought. Who knows what happens now.
It’s nice to have my friend back. It’s like drinking a good cup of coffee. One with substance, flavor, and lots of caffeine. I’m happy.
I’ve felt like I’ve been at the end of an amazing run for the past months. It’s like when you’re running a great pace and then you realize that you now have to sprint these last meters. It may only be 100 meters, but be damn aware they’re not easy. For me, these hundred meters have been elongated and my lungs have been grasped by sharp, unrelenting claws. I’m almost at the end, but I know there’s another race to follow. I’m not sure I can run another race; I’m through.