Well as my current one follower knows, because she is one of my best friends, I am moving. She does not want to talk about it, and I am not sure she will be reading this or not. But I will talk to this unknown audience of readers as if I knew she was going to read. Who would read this anyway? Sure I posted the link on Facebook. Though I am just another high schooler. I just like writing, so why should anyone take the time to read these words? I am not saying you should. Because most people in the world like to turn a blind eye to somethings and some people that just want to be real. And that's all I am and will be in these blog posts. So if you are still reading, stay tuned for what goes through me. Well, a piece of it anyway. And even though my one follower might not respond, even if she does read this. I wanted her to know how I felt, without saying it in a conversation. It would be to weird and it wouldn't come out like it does if I write it.
I have spent six years in this one city. Of course, I may have spent nine in the state I am moving back to, but there are substantial things here that have changed me just as my home had. I realize now I chose the perfect time to agree to more here. I was nine, about to be ten. If anyone reading this remembers, that is such an awkward time. in the next year to three years we are becoming teenagers. No longer those little chubby face kids that we remember looking into the mirror at. We are discovering ourselves, becoming who we are and will be. Stepping out from our parents grasps a little more with each passing day, because we feel independent. We don't realize we are not ready yet. We didn't realize that was a crucial, impressionable time. Where everything we did sculpted us like a clay figure. Stupid mistakes make a dent or two, but if you meet the right people, are taught the right and moral things, you end up happy. Your clay figure will harden over time,and those dents can be filled, its what the final product that counts. If your journey was a moral, and overall happy, it makes it all more. That's when those dents don't matter, and they certainly don't matter to me anymore. And now I will go back to that state more confident and happy with who I am. And, they didn't witness that phase like some have. But those that stuck with me past that time must certainly see something in me I hadn't before.
I look back now, positively. If I hadn't met my one follower the second year I was here, I don't know where I would be. I think I would be scared to look at myself face to face if I hadn't. She lead me down a path in life that I couldn't be more grateful for. It was the one God chose for me, I believe full hearted. She lead me to meet other life long friends that I will have, and has always been there. Right by my side, and I still want to be there for her, even though I will not literally be beside hers. She has pushed me artistically, theatrically, musically, academically, to heights I would not have dreamed. Well maybe I would have dreamed. Without her I know I would not have been given as many career and life opportunities as I have. They simply wouldn't have occurred. None of it.
I wouldn't change her company, friendship, or impact that she has had on me for anything. I don't know who I would be without it. I love to write, and so does she, though it was never a competition, and I never began just because she did. We just happened upon it together. Together, we like playing piano, differently of course because I cannot read music. We love art, though she is much more gifted in that than I, and I know she loves it more than I because I have seen her room. We were scared out of our wits together, hosting a paranormal talk show for a while. Which was interesting I have to admit. We love to read, act, sing and attempt to dance together. We have laughed more times than I can count. I hadn't seen her cry til it really mattered. But now it doesn't though I wished I knew how to help. Its something that always hurt. Not being able to. Not because I didn't want to, because I did. But this friendship we have is a pure one. Both of us have a secret pride of ourselves. And this is the first time I think it has been admitted. I certainly did not want her or anyone to see me cry. And I am now. So I know she felt the same way. Wanted to stay strong. I wanted her to know pride, though I have trouble with my own doesn't matter.
I just want to let people know that even if you trust and get hurt, it doesn't matter. Yeah it hurts, but if you are just kind and loving, show nothing but realness, in the end it doesn't matter. Because love brings happiness. True real love. I try to be real. And this is my one attempt at many to be so. And even if I am sad right now, I am happy that I am being real. Telling anyone still reading that love is real and matters. AND IT MAKES YOU HAPPY. Isn't that what we try to find in life?
So, one follower, if you did read, t
Thank you Emily
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