LET’S TALK ABOUT MY LOVE LIFE, SHALL WE?

Spoiler alert: it’s still barren.

Dear Reader,

I’ve been reading a lot of books recently. YA novels, to be more specific. I have to read one a week but I’ve sort of become obsessed with reading again so I’m already on book six. (Many reviews to come.)

You want to know what a lot of YA novels have in common, though?

Love stories.

Young love stories.

Stories of kids falling in love so easily and so quickly that adult authors write reviews that say things like, “a first-love story so well remembered and honest that it reminds you what falling in love feels like.”

TIME said that.

Well guess who hasn’t fallen in love.

Yeah, it’s me.

I don’t think back to high school and remember the feeling of being excited when that boy was waiting outside my classroom, ready to walk me to my first class. I can’t recall being asked out on a date or having butterflies when he picked me up. I never fooled around in a basement while his parents were upstairs and I never had anyone worth sneaking out of my house for.

I know I sound really bitter, but I just wish I had those experiences. I wish I had those memories.

You want to know the story of my first kiss?

It was the summer before freshman year of college (I know) and I was in the driver’s seat of my car (I know), dropping off the only guy who ever reciprocated feelings to the same extent as I did (I could get into this in more detail but I’m exhausted by just the thought of explaining this further). He abruptly turned, sort of jumped on me, went for the kiss and missed, pulled away, went for it once more, and missed again. Then, embarassed, muttered “let’s not tell anyone about this,” and quickly left.

I had to drive back to my house while peaking through the gaps between my fingers because I was covering my face with my hands. I cringed the whole way home. I was laughing and rolling my eyes, but I legitimately face-palmed for the fifteen-minute drive home.

We didn’t talk or see each other for a few weeks after that.

Cute little innocent embarrassing story? Maybe when you’re twelve or fourteen. When you’re going on eighteen (or eighteen and a half in his case), it can sort of stunt any romantic progress and prolong your awkward period when it comes to relationships.

So now I’m vicariously living through books.

And I’m reading these books like, how are these girls finding such great guys? And how am I so far different from these girls?

I know they’re characters and they’re fictional stories (except for the one I’m reading now), but it’s weird being in college without having passed these milestones that everyone else seems to have hit ages ago.

It’s similar to when recent grads are applying to jobs but won’t get hired because they don’t have any prior experience and they’re like, okay that makes sense except how am I going to get prior experience if no one will hire me??

That’s me in the dating world right now.

Sincerely,

Sammy

snowman-with-christmas-girl-tumblr-photography-kiss-pictures

WHY I TAKE WALKS IN THE RAIN

Dear Reader,

If you know me as well as I sometimes like to think you do, you’ll know that I love the rain, as most people do. I mean, who doesn’t love the sound of rain on tin roofs? Or watching droplets race down the sides of windows?

People love the rain. It’s a perfect excuse to get out of leaving your house, and it’s kind of nice to sit inside, all bundled up with a blanket. Maybe a book. Maybe a loved one. And you just sit and watch as the rest of the world gets clean.

It’s romantic, right? Showing up on someone’s doorstep means so much more if you’re out of breath and drenched in rainwater. Even if the flowers you’re holding are ruined, it’s even more of a grand gesture. Because you went out in the rain.

But I love going out in the rain. Not to dance and splash in puddles, necessarily, or run to the houses of those I’ve deeply wronged. I just like walking. Being alone with my thoughts. Maybe a good playlist. Not having to worry about seeing another soul because everyone else is hiding inside where it’s nice and dry.

It may seem lonely, but I don’t really think it is.

tumblr_static_tumblr_static_6a8x5hyu3g8wgwkk8wok0ok4s_640

I think it’s much more lonely walking around campus and not seeing a single familiar face that will greet you with a smile. It is lonelier sitting in a room and hearing roars of laughter outside. It is lonelier noticing that life is going on around you, but you are experiencing none of it for yourself.

And I guess none of that stops when rain starts to fall. People are still laughing and loving and being together. I guess it’s just that they’re not in your face as much. They’re all inside, keeping to themselves for the day.

Though I don’t know why, really. I mean, a little rain never hurt anybody.

It’s never hurt me.

So I guess I’ll just keep walking in the rain until it does.

Sincerely,

Sammy

 

SO I TRIED VLOGGING

Dear Reader,

I tried out the YouTube thing again. This time it was in the form of a vlog.

The verdict is still out on whether or not my life is interesting enough to try this again.

Sincerely,

Sammy

CHOOSING TO BE HAPPY

Dear Reader,

It is currently 4:15AM and I felt the need to write. So, I sat down at my computer, made myself comfortable, and the words started pouring out.

Except I am not going to publish those words.

The entry I just started (but didn’t dare complete) just crossed the fine line from venting about problems to coming across as clinically depressed.

SO: I decided I wouldn’t stand for it. Yes, college is hard. Yes, I’m terrified of failure but continue to slack. Yes, making friends is not as easy for me as I thought it would be. YES! Okay? But I am DONE writing about that. (Disclaimer: I’m not done for good, venting still does help me deal with a lot of my issues.)

Tonight I’m done. Why choose to be anything but happy? Why give in to the late-night thoughts and allow myself to drown beneath the stresses and the self-pity? When, instead, I could be happy?

So this week I am only writing happy entries. Or maybe the next seven entries in sequence. I’m not sure yet, but the point is, my blog is changing. When I came to college, my tone drastically changed from optimistic and enthusiastic to depressing and hopeless. “I’m excited about everything!” changed to “oh, woe is me!” And writing turned into something that made me sad instead of happy. And I get it, it’s good to be in touch with your emotions–the good, the bad, the ugly–but I’m trying a new one for a while.

I’m going to be happy.

Sincerely,

Sammy

PS: You know that girl, Meghan Trainor, who sings “All About That Bass?” Well I just discovered a song of hers that I find to be even better.