Do you ever just feel like you're losing someone, and all you can do is sit there and watch it happen? It's like having a conversation. Suddenly, you look up to realize that the other person has backed two feet away from you. You can still reach out and and brush his cheek, you can still see every feature of his face, you can even continue that conversation... but you've lost the connection. You've lost that electricity that you had with him when he was in your arms, or just a couple steps away.
So, unfazed, you take a step forward. You try to continue that conversation; inching forward, inching back into his life. And right when you get back into the meat of your conversation, and you're telling him a funny story from when you were a kid, adamantly waving your hands and your lost in your own words, you look up and see that he's two feet away again. And it hurts even more the second time. So you decide hey, maybe I'll stay put this time. Or maybe instead of inching forward, I'll take a step back. Then he'll see.
And all of a sudden, you're four feet away. And then eight. And you keep moving back until you're too far to have a conversation, let alone feel the warmth of each other's skin. Too far to feel his lips on your forehead or the weight of his arm on your shoulder. All you've got is the silhouette of his body. If you squint, you might be able to make out the bridge of his nose, or the line of his jaw. But you can't reach him, where you are. And you find yourself thinking back to those two feet, and how big they once seemed. And you know things can never be the same.
Friday, February 21, 2014
Friday, February 14, 2014
My Best Friend
I think I've spent a lot of time talking about myself recently, and if you aren't sick of it yet, that makes one of us. I'd like to talk about my best friend now.
It's funny, because most people would consider a best friend something along these lines: someone you text everyday and call every night. Someone you tell your deepest secrets to. Someone you talk about boys and crushes with. Someone you see all the time, you cuddle with, you hug and shriek and gossip with.
My best friend is different, and she's different in the best way possible. My best friend and I don't talk everyday. Neither of us even like texting. We don't cuddle on the couch and tell each other secrets, hell, we don't even really hug unless it's been a while. We don't stay up late and watch movies (but we do play Harry Potter Wii). But just because we defy the social norms of what a "best friend" should be certainly does not mean we aren't best friends, because there are so many different types of best friends. And let me tell you guys, we're the best there is. The thing is, I don't have to tell her my deepest darkest secrets, because she gets me. I don't have to tell her I'm sad or that I need help, she can tell by the punctuation of my text, by the tone of my voice, by the shape of my smile (when we finally get to see each other.)
When we were at the same high school, a lot of people would mistake us for each other, even though we look nothing alike. If someone had their back turned to us during a conversation, half the time they couldn't tell who was the one talking. We could look at each other and know what the other was thinking. We'd even show up to school in the same shirt or even the same outfit. We had all kinds of inside jokes. Sometimes, we would just go off on random tangents, and even if we were with other close friends, they felt left out. We were quite literally always together, and neither of us would have it any other way.
When she moved half way across the country to a school that strictly monitors it's students, did we lose touch? Negative. We wrote letters, and we talked when we could. I can honestly tell people that I don't feel disconnected from her, and I know that I can always count on her when I need someone to talk to, and you best believe she'll either back me up or put me in my place. Guys I just want to express how thankful I am for my best friend, and how much I love her and how broken my life would be if I never met her, because she really IS my other half.
And to you, my best friend: can you believe how much time has gone by? Can you believe that when we first met, we were 14 and had no clue of what the future would be like? That we flew planes in videogames and you said "one day that will be me"? That the only things we planned where our next beach trip and where we could find a waboba? Or how to lie to Perry so I could play in the Mooresville game? You were there for my first snowboard ride, all my hospital visits, my ups, my downs...just everything; and THAT is what a best friend is. Words can't describe how thankful I am to have met you, and I can't wait to see what the future has in store for the both of us.
Partners in crime 'till the end, sister.
It's funny, because most people would consider a best friend something along these lines: someone you text everyday and call every night. Someone you tell your deepest secrets to. Someone you talk about boys and crushes with. Someone you see all the time, you cuddle with, you hug and shriek and gossip with.
My best friend is different, and she's different in the best way possible. My best friend and I don't talk everyday. Neither of us even like texting. We don't cuddle on the couch and tell each other secrets, hell, we don't even really hug unless it's been a while. We don't stay up late and watch movies (but we do play Harry Potter Wii). But just because we defy the social norms of what a "best friend" should be certainly does not mean we aren't best friends, because there are so many different types of best friends. And let me tell you guys, we're the best there is. The thing is, I don't have to tell her my deepest darkest secrets, because she gets me. I don't have to tell her I'm sad or that I need help, she can tell by the punctuation of my text, by the tone of my voice, by the shape of my smile (when we finally get to see each other.)
When we were at the same high school, a lot of people would mistake us for each other, even though we look nothing alike. If someone had their back turned to us during a conversation, half the time they couldn't tell who was the one talking. We could look at each other and know what the other was thinking. We'd even show up to school in the same shirt or even the same outfit. We had all kinds of inside jokes. Sometimes, we would just go off on random tangents, and even if we were with other close friends, they felt left out. We were quite literally always together, and neither of us would have it any other way.
When she moved half way across the country to a school that strictly monitors it's students, did we lose touch? Negative. We wrote letters, and we talked when we could. I can honestly tell people that I don't feel disconnected from her, and I know that I can always count on her when I need someone to talk to, and you best believe she'll either back me up or put me in my place. Guys I just want to express how thankful I am for my best friend, and how much I love her and how broken my life would be if I never met her, because she really IS my other half.
And to you, my best friend: can you believe how much time has gone by? Can you believe that when we first met, we were 14 and had no clue of what the future would be like? That we flew planes in videogames and you said "one day that will be me"? That the only things we planned where our next beach trip and where we could find a waboba? Or how to lie to Perry so I could play in the Mooresville game? You were there for my first snowboard ride, all my hospital visits, my ups, my downs...just everything; and THAT is what a best friend is. Words can't describe how thankful I am to have met you, and I can't wait to see what the future has in store for the both of us.
Partners in crime 'till the end, sister.
My last "woe is me" debbie-downer post, I pinky promise
Do you ever just feel so broken down that it's hard to even put up a fight anymore? I know you do, because we all do. Whether it's arguing with your mom (okay mom FINE I'll clean my room) or something more serious, everyone loses a fight at some point.
For me it's the fight to stay healthy. I can honestly say I've given up. The other day I was at the rec center (not playing soccer, not running on the track...not doing anything I shouldn't be), and I realized how little I could do there. I can't do half of the upper body weights, because my shoulder started to ache. I got off the bike after half and hour when a sharp pain in my ankle won over. After two sets on the leg press, I realized no variation or shift of weight ceased the persistent ache in my knee. I left the gym, exhausted not physically but emotionally, and woke up the next morning at 3am to a searing pain in my hip and a throbbing in my knee, as I have every morning since winter started.
So yeah, I've given up. I've tried continuing with my workout regimen, and that didn't work. After leaving the soccer team, I tried time off, and that didn't work, not to mention made me miserable. So finally, I compromised, and only did lighter exercises at the gym...but that didn't work. Finally I stopped to think, if none of these work, I might as well do the thing that makes me happiest- and that's playing soccer and running and lifting. So that's exactly what I'm going to do. And hopefully, I'll realize that this is a bad idea sooner than later.
All I can say is, props to the people who can overcome serious illnesses and diseases, because when you feel like your in an uphill battle with your own body, it becomes very easy to give up on yourself.
For me it's the fight to stay healthy. I can honestly say I've given up. The other day I was at the rec center (not playing soccer, not running on the track...not doing anything I shouldn't be), and I realized how little I could do there. I can't do half of the upper body weights, because my shoulder started to ache. I got off the bike after half and hour when a sharp pain in my ankle won over. After two sets on the leg press, I realized no variation or shift of weight ceased the persistent ache in my knee. I left the gym, exhausted not physically but emotionally, and woke up the next morning at 3am to a searing pain in my hip and a throbbing in my knee, as I have every morning since winter started.
So yeah, I've given up. I've tried continuing with my workout regimen, and that didn't work. After leaving the soccer team, I tried time off, and that didn't work, not to mention made me miserable. So finally, I compromised, and only did lighter exercises at the gym...but that didn't work. Finally I stopped to think, if none of these work, I might as well do the thing that makes me happiest- and that's playing soccer and running and lifting. So that's exactly what I'm going to do. And hopefully, I'll realize that this is a bad idea sooner than later.
All I can say is, props to the people who can overcome serious illnesses and diseases, because when you feel like your in an uphill battle with your own body, it becomes very easy to give up on yourself.
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
Thanks
There's a particular person that was in my life for a very brief period who I never got to thank. Not that if I extended my words of gratitude, he would accept them. This person was one of our trainers on the soccer team at UNCW, and honestly, he's what I miss the most about being on that team.
All of our coaches were really, really smart guys. Our head coach was valedictorian of his class, our assistant coach studied neuroscience in college, and our trainer, well, our trainer was very, very humble. You see, he was always talking about how much smarter our other two coaches were, and whenever we commented on how intelligent or knowledgable he was, he would always deny it. But really, he was one of the smartest guys I knew, and not just in one subject. He knew about muscle groups and bones that I had never heard of. He could easily teach an anatomy class at UNCW. He was practically an expert on health and food groups and exercise. He almost always had an answer to our never-ending questions about a weird ache, how to stretch a sore spot, or why a lift was hurting somewhere it never had before, and how to fix it. And when he didn't have an answer, he wouldn't bullshit you. He wasn't afraid to say "I don't know, Allie G."
I always really admired him. He was always building everyone up around him, but never insincerely. If you were slacking off or hungover or what have you, he was quick to take notice and quick to reprimand, which is exactly what you look for in a trainer. He was an amazingly colossal part of the functioning of our team, but kindly refused praise or thanks or gratitude, always politely deflecting the spotlight back on us- the players- and the coaches. He was always so positive, even at six o'clock in the morning, and never failed to deliver quick words that uplifted the entire team in a matter of seconds, no matter how worn out or beaten-down we were.
Another thing I loved about him: he loves and he is passionate about what he does. You can see it even in our warms ups, the way he always snaps his fingers and singles out people to tell them they're doing a great job, even if it's just as simple stretch. I truly hope that one day I can be as passionate about something as he is about our and the men's soccer team. He cares about each and every player on both the men's and women's teams. Of course he doesn't get paid the highest salary, and he knows it. He could train for any school in the nation, but he stays with UNCW, because he's that dedicated.
Yes, he was the one timing our sprints. Yes, he was the one directing our 6am lifts. Yes, he developed our fitness tests. And through all that, our entire team still respected and appreciated him, which really says a lot about a person. I truly believe that our team would not have been as successful as it was if it weren't for him. You can ask anyone on that team, and they will tell you the same. I guess what I'm trying to say is, Mark was a really positive influence in my life over the past year, and I only hope that I can pay that forward to someone else.
All of our coaches were really, really smart guys. Our head coach was valedictorian of his class, our assistant coach studied neuroscience in college, and our trainer, well, our trainer was very, very humble. You see, he was always talking about how much smarter our other two coaches were, and whenever we commented on how intelligent or knowledgable he was, he would always deny it. But really, he was one of the smartest guys I knew, and not just in one subject. He knew about muscle groups and bones that I had never heard of. He could easily teach an anatomy class at UNCW. He was practically an expert on health and food groups and exercise. He almost always had an answer to our never-ending questions about a weird ache, how to stretch a sore spot, or why a lift was hurting somewhere it never had before, and how to fix it. And when he didn't have an answer, he wouldn't bullshit you. He wasn't afraid to say "I don't know, Allie G."
I always really admired him. He was always building everyone up around him, but never insincerely. If you were slacking off or hungover or what have you, he was quick to take notice and quick to reprimand, which is exactly what you look for in a trainer. He was an amazingly colossal part of the functioning of our team, but kindly refused praise or thanks or gratitude, always politely deflecting the spotlight back on us- the players- and the coaches. He was always so positive, even at six o'clock in the morning, and never failed to deliver quick words that uplifted the entire team in a matter of seconds, no matter how worn out or beaten-down we were.
Another thing I loved about him: he loves and he is passionate about what he does. You can see it even in our warms ups, the way he always snaps his fingers and singles out people to tell them they're doing a great job, even if it's just as simple stretch. I truly hope that one day I can be as passionate about something as he is about our and the men's soccer team. He cares about each and every player on both the men's and women's teams. Of course he doesn't get paid the highest salary, and he knows it. He could train for any school in the nation, but he stays with UNCW, because he's that dedicated.
Yes, he was the one timing our sprints. Yes, he was the one directing our 6am lifts. Yes, he developed our fitness tests. And through all that, our entire team still respected and appreciated him, which really says a lot about a person. I truly believe that our team would not have been as successful as it was if it weren't for him. You can ask anyone on that team, and they will tell you the same. I guess what I'm trying to say is, Mark was a really positive influence in my life over the past year, and I only hope that I can pay that forward to someone else.
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
I want you to know
If you miss a part of my life, chances are you won't get it back. There's no "fill me in" or "what have you been up to lately?" Because my words aren't perfect. My memory isn't perfect. There's no description I can give you that will tell you exactly how I felt or what I saw. So instead of trying to explain to you and failing at capturing the essence of the moment, I'll likely give you a "nothing much" or redirect the question your way. If I can't describe that moment exactly how I felt it, then what's the use? So I just want you to know, if you miss out, you can never go back.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Real, or not real?
If someone asked you what your greatest fear was, what would your answer be? I think one of the things that scares me most in life is completely losing my memory. As of now, I'm running on about 4 or 5 concussions, and it feels as though my memory worsens daily. I've been meaning to see a doctor about it for some time now, I just really hate doctors.
I know that every average joe forgets things occasionally. Where we parked the car, what we came into the room for and ....where did I put my phone? Nothing to be worried about. So for the longest time, I figured that what I was experiencing was normal. Everyone forgets some things, right? Wrong. Today I'm pretty sure that I hit an all time low. I guess I had the date February 28th for this photo-shoot I have to do. Long story short, I forgot my own birthday. The past two days, I've been unconsciously thinking that my birthday is February 28th. It wasn't until a friend texted me today telling me she's getting ankle surgery on February 27th did I think "..wait..something's not right here." And even then, it took me a while to remember that oh, February 27th is my birthday. But hey, one day off isn't that bad, right?
Sometimes I try and kid myself. I tell myself, hey maybe I've always had a faulty memory. Maybe it wasn't the concussions. Maybe this is in fact normal for me. But each and every time, something else proves me wrong. I've become an expert at writing things down, using the notes and calendar features of my iPhone, using an agenda at school, using a whiteboard in my room, and using sticky notes and all over the apartment as soon as something pops into my head. And man, I've got to admit...all of that is exhausting. And sometimes it STILL doesn't even help. Some things still get lost, like spelling or directions. Sometimes I'm driving or brushing my teeth or on a run, and I don't immediately have access to a sticky note or my phone. You know that nagging feeling you get when you feel like you've forgotten something? I kid you not when I tell you that's the story of my life. So, is this what it's all boiled down to? A couple of knocks to the head and now I can't remember squat? I thought all of last year was 2014...no joke. I can't remember things I've said, people I've met, places I've been? It's terrifying, really.
Imagine living half of your life black-out drunk. Okay, my problem isn't that serious, but sometimes it feels that way. Some of my closest friends know about my memory problem, and they try to help me by telling me old stories of myself or talking about people we used to know that I have no recollection of. But sometimes, it just makes me feel worse. Skeptical, even. Can I really trust the memory of others? For all I know, they could be feeding me complete lies but I would never know the difference. Sometimes it doesn't even feel like my life anymore. It's like I'm hearing the stories of complete strangers. How could my brain just delete things from my past like that? It's frustrating and it's overwhelming.
Maybe that's the reason that I've taken up blogging. It helps me write down memories that I may not remember the next day, month, or year. It's the easiest way to describe certain feelings and emotions with such precision and detail that maybe one day when I read it again I will remember how I felt about a situation or what happened. Maybe I'm trying to write down my legacy, so even if I forget, no one else will.
I know that every average joe forgets things occasionally. Where we parked the car, what we came into the room for and ....where did I put my phone? Nothing to be worried about. So for the longest time, I figured that what I was experiencing was normal. Everyone forgets some things, right? Wrong. Today I'm pretty sure that I hit an all time low. I guess I had the date February 28th for this photo-shoot I have to do. Long story short, I forgot my own birthday. The past two days, I've been unconsciously thinking that my birthday is February 28th. It wasn't until a friend texted me today telling me she's getting ankle surgery on February 27th did I think "..wait..something's not right here." And even then, it took me a while to remember that oh, February 27th is my birthday. But hey, one day off isn't that bad, right?
Sometimes I try and kid myself. I tell myself, hey maybe I've always had a faulty memory. Maybe it wasn't the concussions. Maybe this is in fact normal for me. But each and every time, something else proves me wrong. I've become an expert at writing things down, using the notes and calendar features of my iPhone, using an agenda at school, using a whiteboard in my room, and using sticky notes and all over the apartment as soon as something pops into my head. And man, I've got to admit...all of that is exhausting. And sometimes it STILL doesn't even help. Some things still get lost, like spelling or directions. Sometimes I'm driving or brushing my teeth or on a run, and I don't immediately have access to a sticky note or my phone. You know that nagging feeling you get when you feel like you've forgotten something? I kid you not when I tell you that's the story of my life. So, is this what it's all boiled down to? A couple of knocks to the head and now I can't remember squat? I thought all of last year was 2014...no joke. I can't remember things I've said, people I've met, places I've been? It's terrifying, really.
Imagine living half of your life black-out drunk. Okay, my problem isn't that serious, but sometimes it feels that way. Some of my closest friends know about my memory problem, and they try to help me by telling me old stories of myself or talking about people we used to know that I have no recollection of. But sometimes, it just makes me feel worse. Skeptical, even. Can I really trust the memory of others? For all I know, they could be feeding me complete lies but I would never know the difference. Sometimes it doesn't even feel like my life anymore. It's like I'm hearing the stories of complete strangers. How could my brain just delete things from my past like that? It's frustrating and it's overwhelming.
Maybe that's the reason that I've taken up blogging. It helps me write down memories that I may not remember the next day, month, or year. It's the easiest way to describe certain feelings and emotions with such precision and detail that maybe one day when I read it again I will remember how I felt about a situation or what happened. Maybe I'm trying to write down my legacy, so even if I forget, no one else will.
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