wow, this is old!

its funny i was thinking this way in june. i guess by this time, school was still in and my life was in a post-rocky times position. recovering, reflecting. however some of my reflecting is kind of irrelevant of the situation. this stings, though.
anyways, here is an old ramble-essay:


The times when I felt the most, when I couldn’t contain my excitement or when I felt so much pain I had to hide, they are like a scar in my brain that will always be there. The details have been blurred and the facts have been forgotten but I can clearly recall my feelings.
I don’t remember how my logic was the day I thanked Bill Whitman for everything he gave me. I don’t remember if I tried not to cry, or if I tried to compose myself. I remember crying, and emma dragging me wailing to the bathroom. I don’t remember how I got to sobbing on the phone hours after I heard about eric, when it just hit me, I just hung up the phone and had to shut down. When I was in Kansas city, that’s just a faint memory at this point. But there has only been one more rare occasion, the one listed above, where I have ached any more. I don’t remember how I passed my days or how my thoughts went. But I felt like dying. I did, in a way. But something was born in replacement, and I could experience.
The memories in my mind of the best times of my life, I remember how I felt exactly. I got so happy my jaw chattered and I got a high squeaky voice from being excited. They helped me grow as much as the tragic times did. I learned what was important to me, what made me tick, my reason for existence essentially. I found what I loved and another piece of the puzzle was found. I’d chronicle each moment in my mind, each little event that made my heart flutter a bit; it was just all the bits of reality that added up to my feeling. The reality that translated into honest happiness in my mind. Many nights I’d come home and I swear to god, I could have died happy right then. I hope when I do get to die, its going to be in one of those moments. I want to set myself up for that situation, I always want to be in a life that to me means that I can leave it knowing I had everything I needed. Of course I will always have more than I need, but the consciousness to realize that all the time is just so hard to summon, I think for everyone. It’s a struggle to be happy with what one has. Everyone can be happy. My life is wonderful – I’m honestly free of hardships. But with things like death and change and hurting and stress that pop up in my life its so hard to see this.
Growing up is learning to let go. But in this process I found that one can only experience pure, true happiness after they have felt real sadness, real anger. Up until the summer of my 12th-going-on-13th year I had never felt like that before, like I was losing so much I could never get back. But after that, when I was open to more feeling, when things were going great and carefree, I knew what bliss felt like. That’s when I realized, I didn’t have to try to feel. Feeling comes. You can’t stop it, you can’t start it.