That took a turn

In continuing from the last post....

Dear Taylor:
You don't kiss a girl and ignore her for 3 weeks.
I get it, there are things you don't have control over. I may not know exactly how you feel but I can certainly empathize. But at the same time, you are mad that I assumed the worst but how in the heck was I supposed to know the weight of the world is on your shoulders? All I know is that I liked you, you kissed me, and you stood me up when we were supposed to talk about it. And you've been been completely hostile since.
You said you felt that I was putting all the blame on you. Sorry. But why, WHY did I walk out of that conversation with all of it on my back? You would know this by now if you cared to look, but I'm not very good with words in person. I get flustered when I don't feel safe. I felt so attacked, Taylor. You were looking at me with such hatred and throwing out bullets so fast I couldn't get one word out.
And you made me care about you again. I spent the weekend alone, anxious and plain numb because of what you did to me. But you skipped right back, made me feel horrible about myself, and then made me feel bad for you. I let you hug me. The worst part is that I didn't want you to let go. How twisted is that.
I'm spiraling, Taylor. I've gone deep before but never this deep. I haven't gone a day in a full two weeks without crying. I can't even take a nap without thinking about all the things I should have said. I literally had a panic attack in class today just because you were there and I'm am idiot because I still feel like I need to impress you. I get it, I'm only 18 and I have so much time to find the one. But that's not what third is about. I just want to feel sufficient. I just want to feel loved.
Now before you run off, let me explain that you're not all that special. It's not all about you. It's about how not one guy has ever treated me well. Yes, my dad has, but you know what I man. Every time I tell myself 'he would never hurt me like that' and "This time he's different' but somehow I'm the easiest to manipulate, to use. And I want to know why.
You used me. You manipulated me. You ignored me (yes, I know, I get it. Your circumstances. But stop for just a second and try to think of mine.) But guy#1 did all those things too. Same goes for #2, #3, all of them. After following the trend, the only logical thing is that something about me is completely repellant.
So I get it. I'm sorry. I get that you don't have complete control over what's stopping you from reaching out.
But I don't have complete control over what's literally crushing me either.
Maybe one day we'll be friends. Maybe I won't panic when I see you anymore. Maybe you'll learn how to treat women and maybe, someday, I'll be treated like I matter.
I hope the kiss was all you had hoped for. I hope it was worth it to you.
Because so far that kiss has completely unhinged me.
-Tiff

my first time

Making out.
gah I hate those two words when put together.
Like, I was going to put that as my title, but then I couldn't bear the thought of titling a blog post making out.
It's disgusting. I feel like such a horrible person. But I shouldn't, right? It's not a sin, right? Nothing inappropriate happened, right?
I didn't even reciprocate that part of it, right? I wasn't the one doing the moving, that was all you dude. he must think I'm literally the worst, I just kinda sat there. I just kinda sat there and let it happen.
Maybe it's just because that is definitely not what I expected to happen.
Maybe it's just because it's been a loooong time since I've really kissed someone.
Maybe it's just because it caught me way off guard that a guy who I had a huge crush on actually went for it.
Maybe it freaked me out that the first one wasn't soft and hesitant like I thought it was going to be.
Maybe my anxiety is just too much.
Maybe it's just because he never actually said that he liked me.

he never said that he liked me.

am I just some relief or fix because he needed to kiss someone, ANYONE? Because if that's the case buddy, I'm sure there are plenty of girls on campus who actually know how to kiss and are more than willing to be your toy.
I just can't fathom the dismal amount of respect he must have for me, to have just gone for it so fast like that. It's like Harrison all over again. I even told him when we were talking about relationships that I'd much rather have someone ask me if they could kiss me than having them just do it. And yet... here we are. Launched at my face.

I should be over the moon, right?
I've been wanting to kiss a guy for the past few months now. I've wanted a guy in my life, cried that I didn't have one.
I totally like him. Liked him? I don't know. I think I still like him. I'm just confused. And a horrible kisser.
But isn't this exactly what I wanted?
What I may or may not have prayed for? (Thanks for giving me exactly what I wanted... now dial it back a little???) My own fault.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I'm just so curious to see what he does now.
because I just know that he won't talk to me anymore. He won't want to get to know me or pursue anything or want to do fun coupley things like dancing in the rain or going on a picnic, stuff that doesn't include kissing. He won't want to learn how to help me through panic attacks and he won't let me get to know him. He'll either want to stay friends with benefits (NO SIR THAT WILL NOT FLY), or pretend like nothing happened at all. because that's just what happens with me.

but something that isn't confusing to me is that I love talking to him and how much he makes me laugh.
something that doesn't confuse me is that I love his smile, his sarcastic quips, his little quirks, his exclamations.
something that doesn't confuse me is the way he hugged me when dropping me off, that he sheepishly waved and said 'We'll figure this all out, I promise' and then shut the door.

something I do know is that when he's not confusing me,
I really do like him.

Welcome to BYU!

Hi, I'm Tiffany, your RA for this term. RA stands for Resident Assistant- but you can think of me as a cheerleader, a friend, a big sister, a resource, and a support to you in the next coming months. Let's not talk about the fact I'm only barely 18, younger than half of you here. Instead let's focus on how I can help YOU succeed.
BYU Police has a really cool program called Safe Walk- if it's dark outside and you don't want to get assaulted (yes, safest campus out there, crap still happens): simply call 801-422-2222 and they'll escort you wherever you need to go on campus. Let's not talk about the fact I've never used it myself.
BYU offers its students free counseling services- which I highly recommend. Remember, your health is more important than anything else. Let's not talk about how I had the biggest panic attack tonight- I'm an RA, therefore I am stable and never show my anxiety. Let's not talk about how self conscious I feel about my weight and size- you all look so beautiful the way you are.
This is how to get along with your roommates- let's not talk about how I'm the worst example of knowing how to openly communicate.
Now, I know it can be intimidating to be surrounded by RM's and such. Remember, college is a time to let yourself have fun! Let's not talk about how I shut down the first possible relationship possibility that happened here. But learn how too be clear when you set your boundaries. Let's not talk about how he may think I'm interested.
Let's not talk about how completely unqualified I am to hold authority over you guys. I went to training, played the fun little getting to know you games.
How about let's just not talk at all.
Welcome to the #1 ranked stone cold sober school for years now. Have fun- but not too much fun!

I prefer the juvenile literature section.

I wonder if I'll ever be important enough for someone to write my biography.
If I am, I've got some stipulations.

It can't be boring. Nothing about my life is particularly exciting, but my readers don't need to know that.
Let's not bog it down with details, either. I'd rather out be written like a story. An engaging, relateable-character-filled narrative.
It better be written by someone who actually knows me- and knows me well. That way, it'll be accurate.
It shouldn't make me seem like a person I'm not, for better or for worse.
I'd like there to be humor. I'm not all that funny but things that happen to me could be looked at that way.
I hope there's romance. But I guess that's more of a life goal in general.
My friend's lives should be recorded as well (although, if I somehow become famous, guaranteed it's because they were first. My friends always raise me up in so many ways.)
It cannot skim over my faith. It cannot lessen the degree of gratitude I have for the church and it's teachings. I'm sorry, but it cannot be impartial. It has to show that I would have nothing, be nothing, without the gospel and without my Savior.
I hope the overall effect is that I'm not perfect- not even close- but that I'm doing my absolute best I can do.

I wonder if I'll ever be important enough for someone to write my biography.
I don't really want to write an autobiography.
But.... I think I still might.
Someday.

Turning 18

For my birthday,

I want to be six again.
I want to spend time with my friends.
I want to finally be taken seriously.
I want a boy to hug me for a long time, and tell me it's ok that I cry a lot and that doesn't make me weak, it's because I'm strong. And I want him to kiss me (even if it's just my cheek or forehead). And I want him to look me in the eye and tell me I'm beautiful. I want a boy to ask me on a date without me telling him he should. I want a boy to want to talk to me, even after the date is over. I want a boy to talk to talk to me because he wants to. I want a boy for my birthday.
I want Costco muffins. Blueberry and/or poppyseed.
I want to go swimming.
But before we can go swimming, I want to exercise and eat healthy so I won't feel ashamed to go swimming. So maybe I don't want to go swimming because I don't have time to work out and don't have the money to eat healthy.
I want my family. Especially Jason.
I want you.
I want to be silly and stay up late and eat candy and watch a movie and sing karaoke.
I want to sleep.
I want to double date with my best friend.
I want to dress up like a princess.
I want to wear sweats all day.
I want a puppy.
I want Krispy Kreme.
I want to be spontaneous.
I want a plan.
I can't get everything I want.
That's ok.
As long as I have you.
And Costco muffins.

YOLO is DEAD-O

You know those people that get to college and cry themselves to sleep every night because the adjustment is so big?
You know those people who text or call their mother, begging her to take them home because they just can't deal anymore?
You know those people that get distracted while writing blog posts about college by all the pictures on their walls, staring at them wistfully and wishing they could go back?
I SWORE I would never be that person.
I figured, yeah I have anxiety, but it's manageable. I've learned so many ways to cope.
I'm also very mature for my age. I've been through a lot and have come out way stronger because of it.
I DO NOT understand why I'm having such a hard time here.
I'm lonely, which I know 'everyone's lonely and noone has friends this fast' but that's crap. All my roommates have friends and I watch people make new friends every day in front of my eyes.
I know, 'You just need to join clubs, get yourself out there' but if it was that easy I'd have friends rn and I just... don't. I get along with my roommates but it's not like I can talk to them about... well, the things I blog about, I guess. I can't get together with them and hike the Y just because.
And a dating life?
yeah I wish.
nonexistent. completely absent.
There are plenty of cute guys here but they keep getting distracted by all the bodacious blondes with white teeth and already know their major, minor, and how many kids they want. They're not interested in the 17-year-old who wants nothing more than to fit in here.
My roommates invite people over every night (through morning... errrrrrrg). They all get along so well with their friends but you know what happened when I even said hi? Stares. Utter silence. Nothing.
I don't think I've ever cried this hard and this often in my life. I gave that up in second grade but apparently my sensitive side is coming back to haunt me.
I feel weak. I feel trapped. I feel numb.
My google searches have come up with the same suggestions for how to make friends... but none of them work if you're apparently not even a fun person to be around.
I love the school. I love the atmosphere. But I hate crying so much and I hate hiding in a corner of campus to stop getting laughed at for my age or just for being me. I hate that my real friends live a half hour away and I hate that I have to be an adult and worry about finances and groceries and inter/intrapersonal relationships and I hate that I'm not still in high school.
I wish people could get past my age, or my face, or my tears, or my shortcomings. I respect that it takes a lot of effort, and I don't ask much. At least... try to get to know me? Please?

Anyone?

Surreal

I know prayer is a real thing, because here I am. A high school graduate. One thing I love about prayer is that it is often answered through the actions of other people. Here are just a few examples:

Jake Rees was an answer to a prayer when he said that not everyone gets their answer as fast as some, and that's ok. He also helped me increase English&Reading sections of the ACT by a combined 16 points, raising my overall score enough to get into the college of my dreams.

Susan Hoyt was an answer to so many prayers throughout high school- I honestly couldn't have done it without her. Because of her, I always knew I had someone to turn to. I can't say how much her support has strengthened and shaped me.

Pam Beckstrand was an answer to a prayer when she taught me I could learn so much and have so much fun at the at the same time. She also taught me that people are fascinating. I hope she knows how much that class impacted me- so much so, that I may end up majoring in social sciences.

Craig Smith was an answer to the prayers of every kid who walked into his room, and I'm no exception. He was also able to empathize with me when no one else understood how I felt- not many people have spinal fusions and come right back to school. But he did. And he helped me understand calculus and my worth, all in a class period every other day.

Matthew Bell was an answer to my prayers when he recommended me, landing me my first real job. He believed in me and convinced others to do so as well. He was the first one to help me fall in love with physics, and I still love it today. He also made me punch him in the face in front of the class, wearing boxing gloves, to demonstrate Newton's law of action and reaction. It was good for my then-timid character.

Miss Amy Rosen's constant smile and positivity answered many prayers, and taught me patience and love. I'll use what I learned in her class for the rest of my life.

Jim Smith taught me how to work, really work, until an end result is reached. He taught me that it can be fun, but only if we work hard first. He taught me that the process is grueling and long and so, so worth it. He taught me that recognition and praise must be earned. He was an answer to my earnest prayer by giving me a chance to truly shine when I needed the opportunity most.

Lori Christensen was an answer to a prayer of loneliness. I learned that having a teacher for a friend actually proves to be quite valuable. I hope to one day become like her.

Tom Erikson taught me that physics is in everything around me- and that it matters. He was an answer to many prayers in hard times when I just didn't get it. When I was on the brink of giving up. He was there in his room, always willing to help.

Mari Felix was an answer to a prayer, and a second mother at the school. She taught me to LOVE literature- books I had never even considered looking into are now some of my favorites. She has a compassion and a love for each student seen in few other classrooms. She also wrote the kindest letter of recommendation I have ever read, and trust me, it made a huge difference.

Rhonda Bromley was an answer to many prayers and made possible so many dreams. It's so obvious that she truly loves each and every student at Lone Peak. From the first day of sophomore year, I felt special in her eyes. Every school, every student, needs a principal like her.

All the seminary teachers were answers to prayers, whether I had them as teachers personally or not. They are so helpful and inspiring and really in tune to the needs of each student.

Jolynn Wright was a huge answer to a prayer because she believed in me. She saw in me potential and an ability to represent my school with pride. She put up with all my questions and didn't give up on me. She's an incredible teacher and an incredible woman.

Allison Terry was an answer to countless prayers, offered with tears in my eyes. Nearly every announcement of a lost classmate was made while I was in her class. She showed so much compassion and care for me in some of the hardest months of my life. She got me through driver's ed(and to understand the enormity of this feat, you must know that driving gives me SO much anxiety. Like, panic attacks and working-with-a-therapist anxiety.) She has changed my life.

Derek Farr was an answer to a commonly offered prayer, titled 'please get me through this class that looks like it'll be horrifically boring'. And he did just that. Every day in financial lit was a new adventure. And I loved it.

Megan Calvin was an answer to a prayer because, to be completely honest, I've never been a huge fan of history classes in the past. She took my expectations and turned them into one of my favorite classes at school. She's engaging, refreshing, funny, and so kind. She also helped me get over perfectionism- here's to my first ever C on a test. It did me a lot of good, both short-term and in the long run.

Kyle Nelson was an answer to a prayer I didn't know I had given yet. I didn't know I missed writing. I didn't know I needed to vent on a blog and I certainly didn't know that I would want to. He gave me a chance to show people who I am without all the pretenses and first impressions. He helped me find out what the raw, real me is like. And, most of all, he helped me to like it.

There are SO MANY other teachers at Lone Peak, and I honestly think I could say something about each and every one of them. I offered so many prayers throughout my high school career, and I know that there's a living and loving God because of all the ordinary miracles I've seen in the halls of Lone Peak High School. So, thank you teachers, thank you administrators, thank you staff, thank you students. Thank you friends. I hope we'll see each other again soon.