Today was one of those hard days. I spent all my time in Los Angeles making sure that when this moment came, I would stay calm and collected and do what’s best to keep myself safe. Thankfully, I stuck to that plan.
But let me say, I never thought it would be this difficult.
Listen to me whine like a bitch—I’m sorry.
I just have to keep focused and do the shit I need to do. I can’t let people keep me in the past and drag me down. If I ever want to be a leader in the Asian American community or any walk of life, I need to learn how to surround myself with things/people that make me happy and keep me motivated.
That said, I really miss home right now. I wish I went to UCLA. I say that a lot, but you don’t know how much I admire and miss the community there.
As of now, I’m keeping focused on 2.8.10 and 2.14.10. I’ll get to eat empanadas with my mom again. I’ll get to eat Korean BBQ with QPC (hopefully) again. I’ll get to hug him again. I’ll be home soon. Just gotta keep reminding myself…I’ll be home soon…
As I sat there in English class, I stared at the girl next to me. She was my so called “best friend”. I stared at her long, silky hair, and wished she was mine. But she didn’t notice me like that, and I knew it. After class, she walked up to me and asked me for the notes she had missed the day before and handed them to her. She said “thanks” and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I wanted to tell her, I want her to know that I don’t want to be just friends, I love her but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.
11th grade The phone rang. On the other end, it was her. She was in tears, mumbling on and on about how her love had broke her heart. She asked me to come over because she didn’t want to be alone, so I did. As I sat next to her on the sofa, I stared at her soft eyes, wishing she was mine. After 2 hours, one Drew Barrymore movie, and three bags of chips, she decided to go to sleep. She looked at me, said “thanks” and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don’t want to be just friends, I love her but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.
Senior year The day before prom she walked to my locker. My date is sick” she said; he’s not going to go well, I didn’t have a date, and in 7th grade, we made a promise that if neither of us had dates, we would go together just as “best friends”. So we did. Prom night, after everything was over, I was standing at her front door step. I stared at her as she smiled at me and stared at me with her crystal eyes. I want her to be mine, but she isn’t think of me like that, and I know it. Then she said “I had the best time, thanks!” and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don’t want to be just friends, I love her but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.
Graduation Day A day passed, then a week, then a month. Before I could blink, it was graduation day. I watched as her perfect body floated like an angel up on stage to get her diploma. I wanted her to be mine, but she didn’t notice me like that, and I knew it. Before everyone went home, she came to me in her smock and hat, and cried as I hugged her. Then she lifted her head from my shoulder and said, “you’re my best friend, thanks” and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don’t want to be just friends, I love her but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.
A Few Years Later Now I sit in the pews of the church. That girl is getting married now. I watched her say “I do” and drive off to her new life, married to another man. I wanted her to be mine, but she didn’t see me like that, and I knew it. But before she drove away, she came to me and said “you came!”. She said “thanks” and kissed me on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don’t want to be just friends, I love her but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.
Funeral Years passed, I looked down at the coffin of a girl who used to be my “best friend”. At the service, they read a diary entry she had wrote in her high school years. This is what it read: I stare at him wishing he was mine, but he doesn’t notice me like that, and I know it. I want to tell him, I want him to know that I don’t want to be just friends, I love him but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why. I wish he would tell me he loved me! `I wish I did too…` I thought to my self, and I cried.
omg. That’s so sad :( My advice, from experience, is to take the risk. It’s good to be honest about your feelings and have the truth out there. At least you’ll know how the other person feels too. Then, you can decide what to do next. At least you won’t be wondering, “what if?”
I should take my own advice, and I hope I do when the time comes. But, to clarify, I don’t think there’s a reason to take that risk yet. Because one of my biggest fears is losing a friendship. It’s happened before. Almost more than once. I’m not ready for it to happen again. And I won’t be ready to risk a friendship until I’m sure about my feelings. And the truth is, I’m still so confused.
it’s easy to say, harder to do :P
but i agree, the risk is worth it if you’re absolutely sure. you don’t wanna wreck things by doing things prematurely, which I often do :/
Haiti has always needed help and it took a devastating earthquake to make people give a shit.
Celebrities ask us for donations when they could give 1 million away and not even feel it. Some us can barely donate and support ourselves.
And while everyone feels sorry for Conan, it seems that the fact that he gets 33 million to not work clouds everyone’s judgment. 33 million for Conan and very little for Haiti. Good job, America.
omg i was just having a conversation with my friend about this last night.
at Stanford, there was a Haiti fundraiser. But, the only reason people are doing shit is because it is a “Hot topic” right now. I mean, I really admire the mobilization and help fronted for Haiti, but I feel like this help is slightly superficial.
I hate what happens when certain issues fall out of the spotlight. What then?
And i know i am pushing for more continuous/sustainable efforts without having really done anything proactive myself, buti just wanted to say what i felt about all of this.
mapping out your entire life might not be necessary, but it definitely is a human impulse difficult to reverse - particularly for the hopeless romantics like myself. we are so used to looking into the future: hoping, wishing, praying, pushing for unforeseeable events.
my plan was as follows.
20: fall deeply in love
22: jump start my career in museum development
24: go to grad school in new york, san francisco or chicago
25: marry my college sweetheart
28: have beautiful dark kids
35: after becoming director of development at a big la museum, open my own art gallery solely featuring local artists
55: retire, pass my art gallery on to one of my beautiful dark kids
don’t get me wrong, planning in certain aspects is absolutely necessary. i.e., your career, your finances, your education, etc. but giving yourself deadlines for things like marriage or having kids: how can you ever tell that it’s even gonna happen? how can you ever predict that you’ll be with a significant other forever?
you can’t. things come up. you make mistakes. what happens if you fuck it all up? what happens when you become a person you never planned to be?
when these things do happen, it hurts too much to realize that your plans won’t even matter. these plans you made, they remain only as figments of your complex mind; memories that almost happened.
so what happens now? you start over.
do you draft a new plan? YES.
the new plan is, make no plans at all.
i feel a lot of the time, people spend so much time thinking ahead and living for the future that they forget to enjoy and live in the present.
It’s good to plan ahead, but, to be cliche, don’t forget to take time to stop and smell the roses :]
“I want somebody to sleep with the rest of my life, and cuddle up during a movie, on a couch. Stay up all night talking about nothing. Get lost in the woods together. Challenge me, challenge him. Talk about dreams, make dreams. Have fights, the kind that only really matter as long as you’re having them. Someone I can wrestle with, you know, play hard sometimes and not worry about break a nail or an arm. A guy who will bring me flowers once in a while, maybe a rock too, or a shell of some sort. Something he saw that made him think “this might make my girl smile” as he smiles to himself. A guy who wants me, even needs me, just a little, enough to hold onto me with everything hes got.”—
These perspectives on “being real” came about through my own notions, the views of others, and the dialogs I’ve had with the people in my life.
In other words, like many others, I too am learning what this word means.
Dedicated to all the real and unreal people I’ve ever met.
Realness is not suppressing anger for the sake of promoting unity. Realness is talking about your frustrations and letting people know where you’re at.
Realness is not cheating on someone’s trust and trying to justify it. Realness is recognizing your infidelity, owning up to it, and asking for forgiveness.
Realness is not proclaiming your beauty in comparison to others. Realness is about proclaiming your beauty because you are beautiful.
Realness is not practiced through gossip or “shit” talk. Realness is calling someone out when the time calls for it.
Realness is not change managed through doing violence or slurs. Realness is change that is kind and built from a place of care.
Realness is not passive aggressive. Realness is proactive.
Realness is not enforcing fighting binaries: white vs black, queer vs straight, etc. Realness is helping those two come together and seeing how they learn from one another.
Realness is not demonizing or blindly praising specific health-oriented decisions. Realness is risk analyzed health.
Realness is not about how much or how little. Realness is about how you use all of it.
Realness is not about saying you like everybody when really you don’t. Realness is acknowledging that sometimes, you will not get along with everyone. How you choose to negotiate that will determine your character.
Realness is not “calling someone out” for the sake of calling them out. Realness is calling someone out in a way that empowers them.
Realness is honesty. No simpler way to say it.
Nate, I dug through your archives to find this. Not necessarily because I feel a bit victim to people who are dishonest right now but because I am continuously trying to be more real too.
On a side note, I’m confronting the fact that being honest sometimes means being vulnerable.
Anyways, thanks. Really.
all of this struck a chord with me. it makes a lot of sense and it’s all true.
anyway, I hope you feel better JP. in the greater scheme of things, that person will seem so insignificant. you’re a great person, and you don’t need anyone else to validate that :]
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