I have been thinking a lot lately about the people in my life and about how blessed I am to have them in my life. As a result, I have decided that once a week I am going to do a "spotlight" on one of these people, beginning with members of my family. I have a lot of people that I love dearly, so I am confident that I will never run out of people to talk about. :)
My first spotlight goes out to my mom, Janette, who passed away two and a half years ago. I can't tell you what my earliest memory of her is, but I have plenty of memories in general to share.
When we were younger my mom would read to us. She would sit in our room with us (the four youngest girls all shared a room) and she would read fairytales, stories about people in the scriptures, Dr. Seuss, but mostly what I remember is reading the Wizard of Oz series.
When I was in the 2nd grade I got sick. At first I just broke out in red spots and my joints would swell up. Eventually however we discovered that I had a disease called Henoch Schonlein Purpura. I made a couple of trips to the hospital, and once I had to spend the night. I remember my mom being there with me, something that I greatly appreciated.
My mom had diabetes and with it came heart problems. When I was in elementary school she had her first heart attack. I was asleep when it happened, so the next morning when we were all getting up for family prayers my dad told us all what had happened. I remember being scared, but other than that there isn't much else. This was just the first of my mom's visits to the hospital.
I remember mom coming to band concerts and other performances. While I am sure we would have been alright if she hadn't come, we always loved it when she did.
It was always our goal to make her cry whenever we gave her gifts (not because she was sad mind you, but because she was touched by the gifts we gave her) and as the years passed it became harder and harder to do it. I think one of the most memorable times when we made mom cry was when we gave her a Lego version of her dream house, complete with Lego people representative of her family. I still have the image of her surprised face in my mind.
Her favorite Disney Princess was Aurora. She loved watching the Santa Clause movies whenever she didn't feel well. She loved to crochet (there are quite a few people with a crocheted item from mom) and she loved crafts in general.
Mom was a writer. She loved stories and I remember the countless times when I would tell her about my own stories and how she was always happy to hear about them. She was also an artist, mostly drawing but she did have a few paintings as well as some ceramics.
Mom passed away May 31, 2009. I remember thinking it was all just a horrible nightmare that I was going to wake up from. But when the nightmare didn't end, I wasn't entirely sure what to do. I went to work like I was supposed to, kept going on with my life, though it was never easy. It's still hard. I was tasked with speaking at my mom's funeral and while I tried as hard as I could, words wouldn't come to me. I stayed up late the night before trying to think of something to say. I finally talked to my dad about it. He told me to talk about her family, her kids especially.
During the viewing as people offered their condolences I sat busily writing down everything that I could. By the time the viewing was over, I had finished jotting down what I wanted to say. I was nervous, mostly because I knew I would cry, but everything went smoothly. I still have the notebook with what I said.
I dream about my mom every now and then. About two months after she died I had a dream about her, one that while I don't remember everything that happened, I do remember hugging her, smelling that smell of freshly cleaned clothes that she always had, sitting down and talking with her about something or other. I remember waking up and feeling the empty hole in my chest and wishing that it hadn't been a dream, wishing that I could keep dreaming about her just so that I could be near her.
I think the hardest dream I ever had about her was just a day or two after that first one. It was a dream within a dream, and in the first part my mom would be alive, but then I would "wake up" and she would be dead. I got to a point where, going back and forth between "reality" and "dreaming" I couldn't tell which was real and which was not. Finally, I came to a point where I admitted to myself that my mom wasn't alive anymore, and so that part was just a dream. It hurt, a lot, and I remember feeling the emptiness again when I woke up, but it was something that I think I needed. For those first few months after my mom's death it kind of felt like I was on auto-pilot. I needed to face reality so that I could move on with my life and do it in a way that would make my mom proud.
There have been many times when I have missed my mom, but just as many, if not more, when I have felt her near. Once when I sprained my ankle really bad I was having a hard time sleeping because of the pain. I could feel my mom there, even felt her embracing me, letting me know it was okay. Any time that I have really needed her, she has been there.
I feel her especially close when I go to the temple and do baptisms for the dead. I think about her a lot and wonder if any of the people I am doing work for has been taught by my mom on the other side, and it makes the experience that much better.
My mom was an incredible woman. She didn't judge people and she loved everyone. She had an incredible amount of patience (she had to to raise 9 kids. :P ) and she was always willing to give and receive hugs, even if she wasn't feeling so good. I never doubted that my mother loved me. You could always see it in her face, even when she as upset. She influenced so many people in her lifetime and I hope that I can be just as influential as she has been.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Monday, September 26, 2011
Argh...
As a general rule, I like people. I do my best not to be judgmental, especially of them that I haven't officially met, try to be the bigger person in a situation that is less than pleasant, but sometimes people really just irk me.
My roommates and I decided that we want to do date nights at least once a month in an attempt to broaden our horizons in the dating world. With our first official date night coming up some of us have selected the guys we would like to go with.
Well, tonight myself and another of my roommates intended to ask our desired dates while attending a social event, since both of them would be present. Much to our dismay, the guys we selected seemed to constantly be in the presence of other girls and to be honest, I think it's weird to ask a guy out while he is with a girl (or several) that is not related to him and may potentially like him. So, we chose to wait until after the social and visit them at their apartments.
Just as we were getting ready to leave my date choice wandered away from the girls to get a drink. He paused at the coolers and I realized this was my chance to ask him. I told my roommates it was time to go, all the while watching to make sure that he didn't wander back to the group. He didn't and so I went to spark up a conversation with him.
When I reached him he was talking to some other guys. It's not as weird to ask a guy out while he's with one or two other guys instead of girls, but it's still weird. There came a pause in the conversation (by this time it was just date choice and one other guy) so I started out by asking how he was doing. The other guy left to go do other things and I continued to swap small talk with the guy of my choice. I asked how school was, the classes he was taking, and eventually I asked what his major was.
By this point the girl that had been sitting next to him at the table (who by the way didn't seem to think it necessary for her to walk up and join him again until after I had his attention) was standing by us, though she was turned a different direction. I saw her out of the corner of my eye and I hoped that she would either walk away or at least keep her attention elsewhere so I could ask him.
After learning what his major was he asked me if I knew what I was going into. I told him Theater and he replied, "Really? Are you in the show?"
"Not this one," I told him.
Other girl, who now was fully facing us, said, "Oh darn." She had a smile on her face and to a passerby it would appear as if she were being nice, but there was an underlying tone to it that at this moment I can't quite put my finger on it, but it definitely wasn't positive.
I tried to continue the conversation but by this point I was irritated and feeling rather insignificant and inferior to this other girl. So I cut the conversation short and told him I would see him later. As I turned to walk away, not even a full second after he said "Bye" the other girl picked up a conversation with him.
I am not going to lie, it hurt, and it really ticked me off to no end. I really wanted to smack her.
I know that I shouldn't let it get to me, and I should try to give her the benefit of the doubt since I don't know her (heck, I don't even know her name) but it's really hard. Ugh...girls just really tick me off sometimes.
My roommates and I decided that we want to do date nights at least once a month in an attempt to broaden our horizons in the dating world. With our first official date night coming up some of us have selected the guys we would like to go with.
Well, tonight myself and another of my roommates intended to ask our desired dates while attending a social event, since both of them would be present. Much to our dismay, the guys we selected seemed to constantly be in the presence of other girls and to be honest, I think it's weird to ask a guy out while he is with a girl (or several) that is not related to him and may potentially like him. So, we chose to wait until after the social and visit them at their apartments.
Just as we were getting ready to leave my date choice wandered away from the girls to get a drink. He paused at the coolers and I realized this was my chance to ask him. I told my roommates it was time to go, all the while watching to make sure that he didn't wander back to the group. He didn't and so I went to spark up a conversation with him.
When I reached him he was talking to some other guys. It's not as weird to ask a guy out while he's with one or two other guys instead of girls, but it's still weird. There came a pause in the conversation (by this time it was just date choice and one other guy) so I started out by asking how he was doing. The other guy left to go do other things and I continued to swap small talk with the guy of my choice. I asked how school was, the classes he was taking, and eventually I asked what his major was.
By this point the girl that had been sitting next to him at the table (who by the way didn't seem to think it necessary for her to walk up and join him again until after I had his attention) was standing by us, though she was turned a different direction. I saw her out of the corner of my eye and I hoped that she would either walk away or at least keep her attention elsewhere so I could ask him.
After learning what his major was he asked me if I knew what I was going into. I told him Theater and he replied, "Really? Are you in the show?"
"Not this one," I told him.
Other girl, who now was fully facing us, said, "Oh darn." She had a smile on her face and to a passerby it would appear as if she were being nice, but there was an underlying tone to it that at this moment I can't quite put my finger on it, but it definitely wasn't positive.
I tried to continue the conversation but by this point I was irritated and feeling rather insignificant and inferior to this other girl. So I cut the conversation short and told him I would see him later. As I turned to walk away, not even a full second after he said "Bye" the other girl picked up a conversation with him.
I am not going to lie, it hurt, and it really ticked me off to no end. I really wanted to smack her.
I know that I shouldn't let it get to me, and I should try to give her the benefit of the doubt since I don't know her (heck, I don't even know her name) but it's really hard. Ugh...girls just really tick me off sometimes.
Dream
As a result of staying up late last night watching USA's NCIS Cyber Crimes Marathon, this afternoon I found myself rather exhausted. To remedy this I decided to take a nap and holy wow, I had an interesting dream.
The dream started out pretty normal; I was in college, attending classes and hanging out with friends. Then one day I woke up and went to my classes but there was something wrong. I couldn't find any of my friends and while the set up of the school was the same it was different. The lighting was different, the fliers and things on the walls were different, even the people were different. I even tried asking a girl where my first class (some kind of a psychology class) was. She looked at me like I was crazy.
When I reached the classroom I found one of my professors there teaching a class. She looked older and there was something wrong. I tried to find someone that I could talk to and discovered that my friend Ben was there. He too looked older, and he didn't recognize me. Because I wasn't sure what was going on I didn't tell him who I was.
I soon discovered that I had been sent 10 years and 1 week into the future from the last day that I could remember. I was so confused. I had no idea how it happened or why, I didn't know what had happened to all of my friends, and most importantly I had no clue how what to do about it. I decided that I needed help, but the only way for me to do that would be to tell someone what was going on.
I decided to confide in Ben, since he was the only member of my group of friends remaining there. I didn't want to just spring it on him though. I mean, come one, what would I say? "Hi, I'm Stephanie Featherstone and I'm from the past." Not a good idea. So I figured that if I gave him hints about what was wrong and let him figure it all out himself it wouldn't be as freaky. However he couldn't figure it out, even with all of the clues that I was trying to give him. Finally, I looked at him and asked, "What's the date?"
"April 14, 20..." (my mind seemed to think the actual year was irrelevant)
"So then yesterday was...?"
"April 13, 20..."
I paused and then told him that for me, yesterday was April 6, 20...
He stared at me. I quickly began telling him that I realized it was nuts and that I wouldn't blame him if he thought I was crazy, but I was telling the truth.
"Yeah," he said. "It is crazy, but for some reason I believe you."
He agreed to help me get the answers I needed. As we searched for my friends and what had taken place in the past ten years one of the girls helping us came over and had a strange look on her face.
"You said the last day you remember was April 6, 20...?" she asked me.
"Yeah," I told her. "Why?"
She handed me some research she'd found. "Because," she said, "According to this, you died the next day."
The research she found said that a man had broken into my house that day and apparently, somehow, I was killed.
What the...!?!?
That's when I woke up. I didn't even get a chance to figure out what the crap happened! Gah!
While I would have LOVED to finish the dream, and I am frustrated I didn't get to, at least I have another idea for a story. :P
The dream started out pretty normal; I was in college, attending classes and hanging out with friends. Then one day I woke up and went to my classes but there was something wrong. I couldn't find any of my friends and while the set up of the school was the same it was different. The lighting was different, the fliers and things on the walls were different, even the people were different. I even tried asking a girl where my first class (some kind of a psychology class) was. She looked at me like I was crazy.
When I reached the classroom I found one of my professors there teaching a class. She looked older and there was something wrong. I tried to find someone that I could talk to and discovered that my friend Ben was there. He too looked older, and he didn't recognize me. Because I wasn't sure what was going on I didn't tell him who I was.
I soon discovered that I had been sent 10 years and 1 week into the future from the last day that I could remember. I was so confused. I had no idea how it happened or why, I didn't know what had happened to all of my friends, and most importantly I had no clue how what to do about it. I decided that I needed help, but the only way for me to do that would be to tell someone what was going on.
I decided to confide in Ben, since he was the only member of my group of friends remaining there. I didn't want to just spring it on him though. I mean, come one, what would I say? "Hi, I'm Stephanie Featherstone and I'm from the past." Not a good idea. So I figured that if I gave him hints about what was wrong and let him figure it all out himself it wouldn't be as freaky. However he couldn't figure it out, even with all of the clues that I was trying to give him. Finally, I looked at him and asked, "What's the date?"
"April 14, 20..." (my mind seemed to think the actual year was irrelevant)
"So then yesterday was...?"
"April 13, 20..."
I paused and then told him that for me, yesterday was April 6, 20...
He stared at me. I quickly began telling him that I realized it was nuts and that I wouldn't blame him if he thought I was crazy, but I was telling the truth.
"Yeah," he said. "It is crazy, but for some reason I believe you."
He agreed to help me get the answers I needed. As we searched for my friends and what had taken place in the past ten years one of the girls helping us came over and had a strange look on her face.
"You said the last day you remember was April 6, 20...?" she asked me.
"Yeah," I told her. "Why?"
She handed me some research she'd found. "Because," she said, "According to this, you died the next day."
The research she found said that a man had broken into my house that day and apparently, somehow, I was killed.
What the...!?!?
That's when I woke up. I didn't even get a chance to figure out what the crap happened! Gah!
While I would have LOVED to finish the dream, and I am frustrated I didn't get to, at least I have another idea for a story. :P
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Warning: This is a Long One
Something my readers may or may not know about me is that I have a tendency to keep bits of a story to myself. Sometimes the bits are unimportant, but a lot of the time the bits are important and I am afraid to say them out loud, afraid to admit that I am not always the strong-willed, carefree, nothing-will-get-me-down person that I make myself out to be. Sometimes I don't say it because I feel like I owe it to myself not to let it get to me, to just let it go and act like it doesn't bother me, because it shouldn't. But, honestly, it does. It's what makes me human, feeling bothered by things. Feeling in general really.
I am very independent, yet I need people. It's kind of weird how that works, but it's a truth about me that again, people may or may not know. I don't like to ask for help very often even when I know it's what I really need.
I'm not sure why I am posting this. Maybe because I have been thinking about relationships a lot and therefore thinking about this. Maybe I just want to blog and this was the only thing on my mind. Or maybe, and this is feeling like a big possibility, I need to be honest, to get out the whole story of what happened so that people know. I need to let people know the whole story, to admit that I was more affected by it than I let on, that, in a small way, I still am.
Some names have been changed for privacy reasons. If you know who it is, or you have a guess, don't say anything. I would rather it stay anonymous.
My first semester at college was interesting. I was determined to do this on my own, like usual, but that first day, when I had my car unloaded and I was sitting by myself in my room, realizing that I was alone, I cried. I had one friend from high school there and that was it. I had determined that I would make friends though, in spite of the fact that I was pretty shy and worried that nobody would want to be friends with someone as crazy as me.
I met Bryce in my Scene Painting class. I recognized him from my Acting class and so I decided to sit by him and introduce myself. I thought he was cute, and figured it wouldn't hurt to try and make friends. I nearly chickened out, but thankfully, it didn't happen. I had no idea what would come from that simple decision to just say "hi" and make some small talk.
We discovered that we lived in the same building, which was nice because it meant that we could walk home from classes together. At first he was just a nice friend who I found physically attractive but after spending more time with him I discovered that I liked him more than I thought. I asked him to go with me to an institute dance but unfortunately he had already been asked. Since we couldn't go to the dance though, we agreed to just go out on a date. The date consisted of dinner, playing air hockey at the bowling alley (confession: I didn't play as hard as I could have, mostly because I felt self conscious), and then a movie back at my place.
After spraining my ankle at the institute dance, I ended up using crutches for a little while. He offered to help by carrying my shoulder bag home for me. I thought about saying no--I thought I was managing just fine--but I agreed to let him help me.
I distinctly remember the paint fights we had occasion to get into during our painting class, and there was a time or two when we would get together outside of classes and do math (turned out we had that class together as well).
Summer went by and I thought maybe I didn't like him as much as I thought I did. Boy, was I wrong. As soon as we started up at school again those feelings came rushing back like water when the levee breaks.
That semester I started asking Bryce to go for walks. I figured it was a great way to build up a friendship with him (advice given by one of my roommates). It was great to just go out and walk around town talking with him and getting to know him better. Confession: I miss going on walks with him.
I finally got up the nerve to tell Bryce how I really felt. We had gone to an institute dance together (no sprained ankles this time!) and I had every intention of telling him when he dropped me off that night. I chickened out, at least enough to not say it to his face. So I texted him (NEVER TELL SOMEONE YOU LIKE THEM OVER TEXT. IT'S STUPID AND I REGRET DOING IT).
He told me that he wanted to talk to me about it in person. So we agreed to go for a walk the following afternoon. Much to my disappointment, he wasn't interested in having a girlfriend. I remember going home, pretending like it didn't bother me, but it didn't work. I ended up crying for a good hour or so. Luckily my liking him didn't really change our friendship. We continued to hang out, continued going on walks, things were okay. As time went by I kept telling myself that it was okay to be his friend and by the end of that semester that's how I honestly felt.
At the outset of that following semester I had a feeling that I needed to tell him that I still had feelings for him. While I was successful in doing so, I didn't really put across to him just how much I liked him. He simply said, "Okay" and we left it at that. Again, things went back to normal.
While I told Bryce that I still liked him, I had held back, and that bothered me. I wanted him to know that he was the first guy that I had felt that strongly about, that I had been considering that seriously. I wanted to tell him the truth, the whole truth.
That year Valentines weekend was a long one because it was followed by a holiday. I had made the choice to stay at school, since I had been home a few times already that semester and I really didn't have the funding to go up again. That Saturday, the 13th, I was invited to a Valentine's dinner that another girl in my building, Megan, was holding for those who had decided to stay at school over the long weekend. At the dinner I could tell that she liked Bryce. This realization made me even more determined to tell him.
I invited him to go for a walk the next day. He agreed and my heart was pounding in my chest. I had no idea what was going to happen, if he was going to reject me, if I was even going to say everything I wanted to say. Well he came over and asked me if by chance I would be willing to join him, Megan, and some other people on an outing to a nearby town because she wanted to take pictures at the temple. I breathed a sigh of relief; a way out of what I was about to do. It seemed like a good idea.
It turned out that only one other guy, nicknamed Sarge, would be joining us since the others had things to do. I didn't mind. When we arrived we started walking the grounds. There was a great deal of snow (naturally, it was the middle of February) and Megan was having a hard time getting up the hill with all of the snow. So, the boys were helping her out. That's when I started to notice that she was clinging to Bryce, that all of the pictures of her had him in it and there were maybe a handful of the many pictures taken that actually had my face in it.
No, no, no, I thought to myself. Please no, please tell me I'm making a mountain out of a molehill here. Tell me there isn't anything going on.
After a while we made our way back to the college and went to play at local park. We slow danced in the parking lot (naturally, I was paired with Sarge) and then we went to play. That's when Bryce and Megan started holding hands.
I was crushed. It took everything in me to keep from crying. The last thing I needed was to let them know something was wrong. I didn't really talk a lot though, and in retrospect I think that may have tipped them off. The other three started having a snowball fight and at first I didn't want to join in. But then I picked up some snow, fashioned a ball and threw hit rather forcefully at Bryce. I was angry, and hurt in a big way, but I tried to keep my face and voice lighthearted. Eventually we got too cold to play anymore and we decided to go back home. Megan invited us all for hot chocolate at her place. I told them I had homework I needed to do, but thanks for the invite and for the fun.
When I got back to my apartment I had hoped that the one roommate who had arrived home just before my outing with Bryce would still be the only one home. I didn't feel much like talking about what happened. I just wanted to go to my room and cry. However my roommate Brianna who I actually shared a room with had arrived while I was gone. So I asked her how her weekend was and then I locked myself in our bathroom and cried silently for nearly an hour. Finally I had to get out of the apartment, I had to go somewhere where I could cry freely without worrying about someone catching me, which in my head meant I would have to divulge what had happened.
I got in my car and went for a drive. At first I tried not to get too emotional but then I couldn't do it anymore. I started to cry, uncontrollably, and I began talking aloud, well, more like screaming aloud. It hurt so much; the pain of losing my mom was the only emotional pain that out ranked the pain I was feeling right then. And so, naturally, I did what I always do when feeling that way. I poured out my feelings and thoughts to God, telling him how unfair it was, how much it hurt, how angry I was at Bryce and Megan. I told him how much I hated falling in love, how much I hated being let down, how much my heart was breaking, how shattered it was.
I drove for an hour and a half, maybe closer to two hours, before finally deciding to go back to my apartment. I stopped off at the malt shop and bought a nice, large, chocolate shake to help me out. When I got home again my roommates all asked if I was okay. I told them I was fine.
That night we had our roommate prayers and then we went to bed. I did my daily scripture reading, like always, and then I got on my knees for personal prayers. I was still angry, only this time I was directing that anger at God. I can't remember my entire stream of logic that ended with that result, but that's what it was. After trying to think of something to be grateful for, a blessing that I needed, and drawing a blank in my mind I finally just told him I was angry, and that I had nothing to say. I then climbed into bed and tried to go to sleep.
Before turning out the light to go to sleep Brianna asked if I really was okay. I lied, partly because I wanted it to be true, but mostly because I just didn't want to talk about it. The experience had been bad enough, I didn't want to re-live it. The lights went out, she climbed into her own bed and we both tried to sleep. Try being the key word.
Thoughts of the day came flooding back and as hard as I tried I couldn't hold back the tears and the sobs. I heard Brianna turn over and say, "Stephanie" in one of those "don't tell me everything is okay because it obviously isn't" kind of tones. She recruited two of our fellow roommates to come and talk to me. Lora asked me if something happened while I was out with Bryce. I just kept crying and when I had calmed down enough to speak I said, "I think Bryce is dating Megan." There was silence from my roommates. They asked if I was sure and I told them what had happened. Eventually I got to a point where I was calm enough that I could go to sleep without a problem, and my roommates weren't too worried.
I sent Bryce a text right then saying, "So, you and Megan, huh?" In my mind I had decided that if there wasn't anything going on I would tell him I was teasing, but there wasn't enough hope in me to feel like that was a possibility. The text I received back said, "Stephanie, we need to talk. I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to find out this way. I haven't been able to sleep thinking about you."
So I went over to his apartment, letting Lora and Bethany know where I was going so that they wouldn't worry. When I arrived I asked Bryce how long he and Megan had been dating. He said that it just sort of happened that weekend. He asked if I was okay. At this point I had two choices, I could be honest and tell him "No" which could have just caused more strain on our relationship, or I could lie and say that as long as he was happy, then I was okay. I chose the latter.
I don't remember how long we talked, really I don't think it was that long, but at the end of it we hugged and I went home. I told Lora and Bethany what happened and then tried to get some sleep. It didn't work though. I called my dad and told him what happened. "I knew there was a reason I couldn't sleep," he said. We talked for a while and then he told me to try and get some sleep. It was after four in the morning, but I still was having trouble.
That's when I went out into the living room and decided to do some reading. I read my patriarchal blessing, something that has helped me through tough times in the past, and I came to a conclusion. I felt horrible, not just because of what happened with Bryce but for blaming God. I got on my knees, prepared to tell him just how sorry I was and beg for his forgiveness, and I started crying again.
It was there, crying on my living room floor, when I felt an overwhelming sense of love. In my mind I told myself I didn't deserve it, not after how I had acted, but I knew that whether I thought that or not, God was giving it to me, no questions asked, no strings attached. Only then was I able to finally lie in bed and get some sleep.
While I had repaired my relationship with God, I still felt awful about the whole Bryce thing. That first day back to classes (a Tuesday) as I was walking home from campus I was texting Bryce's roommate. He thanked me for going over to talk to Bryce and then told me that if there was anything he could do for me to let him know.
Later that day my roommates and some of our other friends had planned a homework party at the cabin of one of Bryce's other roommates. I didn't want to go; his roommates would be there, the girlfriends/friends of his roommates would be there, and so would my roommates. Most of the people going might have known what had happened, or at least the general idea of it. Alas, my roommates refused to let me lie in bed and mope, something that in retrospect I am truly grateful for. It felt a little awkward being there, but it was a welcomed escape from everything.
I hoped that as the week passed I would get over the incident, but it didn't happen. I was grateful that the one class we had together that week had been canceled due to the opening of the musical because that would be one less opportunity for me to see him. There was a close encounter though. I was coming back from a class and as I neared our building I could hear Bryce's apartment door opening, and Bryce's voice trailing through the air as he talked with his roommate. I quickened my pace, praying that I would miss them. I turned down the sidewalk towards my section of the building and slipped out of sight just as, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bryce emerge from the apartment. I was pretty sure he saw me, but I didn't bother turning around to acknowledge him.
The week came to a close and while I almost made it, not a day went by that I didn't spend a good hour crying about what happened. Sunday arrived and I knew I would be faced with seeing both Bryce and Megan (since they were both in my ward). I was terrified, uncertain of how it would go. Thankfully I made it through, though there was a moment when I thought I might lose my composure.
As time went by I was able to get back to a place where I could talk to Bryce, though we never spoke about what happened. I would occasionally ask how he and Megan were doing, but other than that we didn't really talk about it. We didn't go on any walks; I would've felt weird going on a walk with him knowing that he had a girlfriend. Weeks later Megan and Bryce broke up. I had mixed feelings at that time. I considered asking Bryce out on a date but chose to keep that door closed. I was afraid what might happen, and I didn't want to be a "rebound" girl.
I kept telling myself that I wanted to go for a walk with Bryce, knowing that it would probably be my last chance since he was graduating and going on to a university. But everything still felt weird to me. As finals week approached I decided to just get over it and do it. So I asked him if he wanted to go for a walk. We planned for it and I remember during the days leading up to it I felt super nervous, more than I should have.
The walk went well, we talked about our plans for the summer and whatnot, and that was it.
That summer I spent some time with my brother and his wife, who was due to have their first baby soon. My job was to take her to the hospital if she started to go into labor while he was at work. In the middle of my stay I drove back home for a short time to watch one of my nieces while my sister and her other two kids were out on a field trip. On the drive up I started playing with a story idea in my head, thinking out the dialogue that two of the characters might have with each other and as I did the things that I was saying began to have nothing to do with the story. In fact, they had to do with Bryce. I realized that I was still a hurt, still a bit angry about what happened. I started to cry and I scolded myself for being so upset about it. After all it had been months, I should've been more over it than I was. Or a least I thought so.
Days later I sent Bryce a text and we talked a little about what happened. Again, some parts of the story I didn't tell him, figuring that they didn't really need to be said, not now. Finally I asked him if he thought it was possible for a guy like him to ever fall for a girl like me. He told me yes, and then he told me that I was an incredible person and that there were times when he would wonder why it was that he didn't like me as more than a friend. While it may not have seemed like a big deal to him, it meant a lot to me that he told me that.
I have seen him once since then--he came down to watch a play--but other than that our communication comes through texting.
As I come to the end of this post I realize what it was that drove me to write it. I needed to write it down, or type it up, but more than that it needed to be shared also. To be honest, I'm not so sure if my own journal entry has as complete a copy of this story as this post is.
I have no hard feelings against anyone involved in this story. I still consider Megan a friend, and Bryce is still on my best of friends list. I won't lie, I still like Bryce, and at this time if he were to ever ask me out, I would so do it. But, I am also over him enough that I could spend the rest of my life just being his friend without any problem whatsoever.
This experience is important to me because of a few things.
1-It was the first time I ever had my heart broken by a guy, an event that while it is far from pleasant, I feel it is an important experience that has helped me to grow in ways that I couldn't have had it never happened.
2-It is my proof that no matter how tough of a situation I find myself in, good things can always come from it if I am willing to let them.
3-I learned about my father's love; both my earthly father and my Heavenly Father.
4-I learned just how much my friends care.
5-I am strong enough to get through whatever challenges life throws at me.
6-It's okay to cry when you're hurting. Sometimes it's the best medicine.
7-Hard times don't break friendships, it's how we handle them.
8-Just because a guy isn't interested in me the way I am interested in him, it doesn't mean that I am not good enough.
9-It's okay to let others see your "weak" side.
10-God is good.
Thanks to all of you that actually made it to the end of this post. Like I said, I needed to tell this story and tell all of it, not just the basics.
I am very independent, yet I need people. It's kind of weird how that works, but it's a truth about me that again, people may or may not know. I don't like to ask for help very often even when I know it's what I really need.
I'm not sure why I am posting this. Maybe because I have been thinking about relationships a lot and therefore thinking about this. Maybe I just want to blog and this was the only thing on my mind. Or maybe, and this is feeling like a big possibility, I need to be honest, to get out the whole story of what happened so that people know. I need to let people know the whole story, to admit that I was more affected by it than I let on, that, in a small way, I still am.
Some names have been changed for privacy reasons. If you know who it is, or you have a guess, don't say anything. I would rather it stay anonymous.
My first semester at college was interesting. I was determined to do this on my own, like usual, but that first day, when I had my car unloaded and I was sitting by myself in my room, realizing that I was alone, I cried. I had one friend from high school there and that was it. I had determined that I would make friends though, in spite of the fact that I was pretty shy and worried that nobody would want to be friends with someone as crazy as me.
I met Bryce in my Scene Painting class. I recognized him from my Acting class and so I decided to sit by him and introduce myself. I thought he was cute, and figured it wouldn't hurt to try and make friends. I nearly chickened out, but thankfully, it didn't happen. I had no idea what would come from that simple decision to just say "hi" and make some small talk.
We discovered that we lived in the same building, which was nice because it meant that we could walk home from classes together. At first he was just a nice friend who I found physically attractive but after spending more time with him I discovered that I liked him more than I thought. I asked him to go with me to an institute dance but unfortunately he had already been asked. Since we couldn't go to the dance though, we agreed to just go out on a date. The date consisted of dinner, playing air hockey at the bowling alley (confession: I didn't play as hard as I could have, mostly because I felt self conscious), and then a movie back at my place.
After spraining my ankle at the institute dance, I ended up using crutches for a little while. He offered to help by carrying my shoulder bag home for me. I thought about saying no--I thought I was managing just fine--but I agreed to let him help me.
I distinctly remember the paint fights we had occasion to get into during our painting class, and there was a time or two when we would get together outside of classes and do math (turned out we had that class together as well).
Summer went by and I thought maybe I didn't like him as much as I thought I did. Boy, was I wrong. As soon as we started up at school again those feelings came rushing back like water when the levee breaks.
That semester I started asking Bryce to go for walks. I figured it was a great way to build up a friendship with him (advice given by one of my roommates). It was great to just go out and walk around town talking with him and getting to know him better. Confession: I miss going on walks with him.
I finally got up the nerve to tell Bryce how I really felt. We had gone to an institute dance together (no sprained ankles this time!) and I had every intention of telling him when he dropped me off that night. I chickened out, at least enough to not say it to his face. So I texted him (NEVER TELL SOMEONE YOU LIKE THEM OVER TEXT. IT'S STUPID AND I REGRET DOING IT).
He told me that he wanted to talk to me about it in person. So we agreed to go for a walk the following afternoon. Much to my disappointment, he wasn't interested in having a girlfriend. I remember going home, pretending like it didn't bother me, but it didn't work. I ended up crying for a good hour or so. Luckily my liking him didn't really change our friendship. We continued to hang out, continued going on walks, things were okay. As time went by I kept telling myself that it was okay to be his friend and by the end of that semester that's how I honestly felt.
At the outset of that following semester I had a feeling that I needed to tell him that I still had feelings for him. While I was successful in doing so, I didn't really put across to him just how much I liked him. He simply said, "Okay" and we left it at that. Again, things went back to normal.
While I told Bryce that I still liked him, I had held back, and that bothered me. I wanted him to know that he was the first guy that I had felt that strongly about, that I had been considering that seriously. I wanted to tell him the truth, the whole truth.
That year Valentines weekend was a long one because it was followed by a holiday. I had made the choice to stay at school, since I had been home a few times already that semester and I really didn't have the funding to go up again. That Saturday, the 13th, I was invited to a Valentine's dinner that another girl in my building, Megan, was holding for those who had decided to stay at school over the long weekend. At the dinner I could tell that she liked Bryce. This realization made me even more determined to tell him.
I invited him to go for a walk the next day. He agreed and my heart was pounding in my chest. I had no idea what was going to happen, if he was going to reject me, if I was even going to say everything I wanted to say. Well he came over and asked me if by chance I would be willing to join him, Megan, and some other people on an outing to a nearby town because she wanted to take pictures at the temple. I breathed a sigh of relief; a way out of what I was about to do. It seemed like a good idea.
It turned out that only one other guy, nicknamed Sarge, would be joining us since the others had things to do. I didn't mind. When we arrived we started walking the grounds. There was a great deal of snow (naturally, it was the middle of February) and Megan was having a hard time getting up the hill with all of the snow. So, the boys were helping her out. That's when I started to notice that she was clinging to Bryce, that all of the pictures of her had him in it and there were maybe a handful of the many pictures taken that actually had my face in it.
No, no, no, I thought to myself. Please no, please tell me I'm making a mountain out of a molehill here. Tell me there isn't anything going on.
After a while we made our way back to the college and went to play at local park. We slow danced in the parking lot (naturally, I was paired with Sarge) and then we went to play. That's when Bryce and Megan started holding hands.
I was crushed. It took everything in me to keep from crying. The last thing I needed was to let them know something was wrong. I didn't really talk a lot though, and in retrospect I think that may have tipped them off. The other three started having a snowball fight and at first I didn't want to join in. But then I picked up some snow, fashioned a ball and threw hit rather forcefully at Bryce. I was angry, and hurt in a big way, but I tried to keep my face and voice lighthearted. Eventually we got too cold to play anymore and we decided to go back home. Megan invited us all for hot chocolate at her place. I told them I had homework I needed to do, but thanks for the invite and for the fun.
When I got back to my apartment I had hoped that the one roommate who had arrived home just before my outing with Bryce would still be the only one home. I didn't feel much like talking about what happened. I just wanted to go to my room and cry. However my roommate Brianna who I actually shared a room with had arrived while I was gone. So I asked her how her weekend was and then I locked myself in our bathroom and cried silently for nearly an hour. Finally I had to get out of the apartment, I had to go somewhere where I could cry freely without worrying about someone catching me, which in my head meant I would have to divulge what had happened.
I got in my car and went for a drive. At first I tried not to get too emotional but then I couldn't do it anymore. I started to cry, uncontrollably, and I began talking aloud, well, more like screaming aloud. It hurt so much; the pain of losing my mom was the only emotional pain that out ranked the pain I was feeling right then. And so, naturally, I did what I always do when feeling that way. I poured out my feelings and thoughts to God, telling him how unfair it was, how much it hurt, how angry I was at Bryce and Megan. I told him how much I hated falling in love, how much I hated being let down, how much my heart was breaking, how shattered it was.
I drove for an hour and a half, maybe closer to two hours, before finally deciding to go back to my apartment. I stopped off at the malt shop and bought a nice, large, chocolate shake to help me out. When I got home again my roommates all asked if I was okay. I told them I was fine.
That night we had our roommate prayers and then we went to bed. I did my daily scripture reading, like always, and then I got on my knees for personal prayers. I was still angry, only this time I was directing that anger at God. I can't remember my entire stream of logic that ended with that result, but that's what it was. After trying to think of something to be grateful for, a blessing that I needed, and drawing a blank in my mind I finally just told him I was angry, and that I had nothing to say. I then climbed into bed and tried to go to sleep.
Before turning out the light to go to sleep Brianna asked if I really was okay. I lied, partly because I wanted it to be true, but mostly because I just didn't want to talk about it. The experience had been bad enough, I didn't want to re-live it. The lights went out, she climbed into her own bed and we both tried to sleep. Try being the key word.
Thoughts of the day came flooding back and as hard as I tried I couldn't hold back the tears and the sobs. I heard Brianna turn over and say, "Stephanie" in one of those "don't tell me everything is okay because it obviously isn't" kind of tones. She recruited two of our fellow roommates to come and talk to me. Lora asked me if something happened while I was out with Bryce. I just kept crying and when I had calmed down enough to speak I said, "I think Bryce is dating Megan." There was silence from my roommates. They asked if I was sure and I told them what had happened. Eventually I got to a point where I was calm enough that I could go to sleep without a problem, and my roommates weren't too worried.
I sent Bryce a text right then saying, "So, you and Megan, huh?" In my mind I had decided that if there wasn't anything going on I would tell him I was teasing, but there wasn't enough hope in me to feel like that was a possibility. The text I received back said, "Stephanie, we need to talk. I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to find out this way. I haven't been able to sleep thinking about you."
So I went over to his apartment, letting Lora and Bethany know where I was going so that they wouldn't worry. When I arrived I asked Bryce how long he and Megan had been dating. He said that it just sort of happened that weekend. He asked if I was okay. At this point I had two choices, I could be honest and tell him "No" which could have just caused more strain on our relationship, or I could lie and say that as long as he was happy, then I was okay. I chose the latter.
I don't remember how long we talked, really I don't think it was that long, but at the end of it we hugged and I went home. I told Lora and Bethany what happened and then tried to get some sleep. It didn't work though. I called my dad and told him what happened. "I knew there was a reason I couldn't sleep," he said. We talked for a while and then he told me to try and get some sleep. It was after four in the morning, but I still was having trouble.
That's when I went out into the living room and decided to do some reading. I read my patriarchal blessing, something that has helped me through tough times in the past, and I came to a conclusion. I felt horrible, not just because of what happened with Bryce but for blaming God. I got on my knees, prepared to tell him just how sorry I was and beg for his forgiveness, and I started crying again.
It was there, crying on my living room floor, when I felt an overwhelming sense of love. In my mind I told myself I didn't deserve it, not after how I had acted, but I knew that whether I thought that or not, God was giving it to me, no questions asked, no strings attached. Only then was I able to finally lie in bed and get some sleep.
While I had repaired my relationship with God, I still felt awful about the whole Bryce thing. That first day back to classes (a Tuesday) as I was walking home from campus I was texting Bryce's roommate. He thanked me for going over to talk to Bryce and then told me that if there was anything he could do for me to let him know.
Later that day my roommates and some of our other friends had planned a homework party at the cabin of one of Bryce's other roommates. I didn't want to go; his roommates would be there, the girlfriends/friends of his roommates would be there, and so would my roommates. Most of the people going might have known what had happened, or at least the general idea of it. Alas, my roommates refused to let me lie in bed and mope, something that in retrospect I am truly grateful for. It felt a little awkward being there, but it was a welcomed escape from everything.
I hoped that as the week passed I would get over the incident, but it didn't happen. I was grateful that the one class we had together that week had been canceled due to the opening of the musical because that would be one less opportunity for me to see him. There was a close encounter though. I was coming back from a class and as I neared our building I could hear Bryce's apartment door opening, and Bryce's voice trailing through the air as he talked with his roommate. I quickened my pace, praying that I would miss them. I turned down the sidewalk towards my section of the building and slipped out of sight just as, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bryce emerge from the apartment. I was pretty sure he saw me, but I didn't bother turning around to acknowledge him.
The week came to a close and while I almost made it, not a day went by that I didn't spend a good hour crying about what happened. Sunday arrived and I knew I would be faced with seeing both Bryce and Megan (since they were both in my ward). I was terrified, uncertain of how it would go. Thankfully I made it through, though there was a moment when I thought I might lose my composure.
As time went by I was able to get back to a place where I could talk to Bryce, though we never spoke about what happened. I would occasionally ask how he and Megan were doing, but other than that we didn't really talk about it. We didn't go on any walks; I would've felt weird going on a walk with him knowing that he had a girlfriend. Weeks later Megan and Bryce broke up. I had mixed feelings at that time. I considered asking Bryce out on a date but chose to keep that door closed. I was afraid what might happen, and I didn't want to be a "rebound" girl.
I kept telling myself that I wanted to go for a walk with Bryce, knowing that it would probably be my last chance since he was graduating and going on to a university. But everything still felt weird to me. As finals week approached I decided to just get over it and do it. So I asked him if he wanted to go for a walk. We planned for it and I remember during the days leading up to it I felt super nervous, more than I should have.
The walk went well, we talked about our plans for the summer and whatnot, and that was it.
That summer I spent some time with my brother and his wife, who was due to have their first baby soon. My job was to take her to the hospital if she started to go into labor while he was at work. In the middle of my stay I drove back home for a short time to watch one of my nieces while my sister and her other two kids were out on a field trip. On the drive up I started playing with a story idea in my head, thinking out the dialogue that two of the characters might have with each other and as I did the things that I was saying began to have nothing to do with the story. In fact, they had to do with Bryce. I realized that I was still a hurt, still a bit angry about what happened. I started to cry and I scolded myself for being so upset about it. After all it had been months, I should've been more over it than I was. Or a least I thought so.
Days later I sent Bryce a text and we talked a little about what happened. Again, some parts of the story I didn't tell him, figuring that they didn't really need to be said, not now. Finally I asked him if he thought it was possible for a guy like him to ever fall for a girl like me. He told me yes, and then he told me that I was an incredible person and that there were times when he would wonder why it was that he didn't like me as more than a friend. While it may not have seemed like a big deal to him, it meant a lot to me that he told me that.
I have seen him once since then--he came down to watch a play--but other than that our communication comes through texting.
As I come to the end of this post I realize what it was that drove me to write it. I needed to write it down, or type it up, but more than that it needed to be shared also. To be honest, I'm not so sure if my own journal entry has as complete a copy of this story as this post is.
I have no hard feelings against anyone involved in this story. I still consider Megan a friend, and Bryce is still on my best of friends list. I won't lie, I still like Bryce, and at this time if he were to ever ask me out, I would so do it. But, I am also over him enough that I could spend the rest of my life just being his friend without any problem whatsoever.
This experience is important to me because of a few things.
1-It was the first time I ever had my heart broken by a guy, an event that while it is far from pleasant, I feel it is an important experience that has helped me to grow in ways that I couldn't have had it never happened.
2-It is my proof that no matter how tough of a situation I find myself in, good things can always come from it if I am willing to let them.
3-I learned about my father's love; both my earthly father and my Heavenly Father.
4-I learned just how much my friends care.
5-I am strong enough to get through whatever challenges life throws at me.
6-It's okay to cry when you're hurting. Sometimes it's the best medicine.
7-Hard times don't break friendships, it's how we handle them.
8-Just because a guy isn't interested in me the way I am interested in him, it doesn't mean that I am not good enough.
9-It's okay to let others see your "weak" side.
10-God is good.
Thanks to all of you that actually made it to the end of this post. Like I said, I needed to tell this story and tell all of it, not just the basics.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Amazing!
Wow! Can I just say that I love God? He has got to be the coolest man alive, no joke. I am so grateful to him for the many blessings he has given me, and I want everyone to know it!
He blessed me with an amazing family. I have 6 brothers who would do anything to keep me safe, 9 gorgeous sisters who I can turn to for anything, 4 beautiful nieces and 4 incredible nephews who are just so darn adorable, and who bring me joy every time I see them! I have a mom who, while she isn't here anymore, loves me more than anything and has taught me so many things and been a powerful influence in my life. I have a loving father who cares about me, and who has shown me so much love in my life that I can't not be grateful for him. I also have a step-mother who has made such a difference and brought so much joy into my family since my mom's passing that I can't help but love her also.
I have amazing friends, many of which are brothers and sisters to me also. They have helped me through so many trials, loved me in spite of my many faults, and I am so, so, SO grateful for them.
I am grateful for the blessing of living in this country, and the opportunity that blessing provides me for schooling. I am so grateful for my professors and the things that they teach me each time I step into their classroom. I am grateful for past teachers as well, both in the classroom and outside of it.
Most importantly, I am grateful for the Gospel. What an incredible gift it is! I am so thankful that my Heavenly Father loves me, loves all of us so much that he has provided a way for us to be close to him, to learn the things we need to learn to be happy. I am grateful for him.
I am grateful for my Savior. I am grateful that he loves me so much that he was willing to give his own life, to suffer so much, just so I can partake of the joys of salvation, and the peace that it brings.
I am grateful that we are put in situations that help us grow, and that allow us to help others grow.
Today is a good day, and I want the world to know it!
He blessed me with an amazing family. I have 6 brothers who would do anything to keep me safe, 9 gorgeous sisters who I can turn to for anything, 4 beautiful nieces and 4 incredible nephews who are just so darn adorable, and who bring me joy every time I see them! I have a mom who, while she isn't here anymore, loves me more than anything and has taught me so many things and been a powerful influence in my life. I have a loving father who cares about me, and who has shown me so much love in my life that I can't not be grateful for him. I also have a step-mother who has made such a difference and brought so much joy into my family since my mom's passing that I can't help but love her also.
I have amazing friends, many of which are brothers and sisters to me also. They have helped me through so many trials, loved me in spite of my many faults, and I am so, so, SO grateful for them.
I am grateful for the blessing of living in this country, and the opportunity that blessing provides me for schooling. I am so grateful for my professors and the things that they teach me each time I step into their classroom. I am grateful for past teachers as well, both in the classroom and outside of it.
Most importantly, I am grateful for the Gospel. What an incredible gift it is! I am so thankful that my Heavenly Father loves me, loves all of us so much that he has provided a way for us to be close to him, to learn the things we need to learn to be happy. I am grateful for him.
I am grateful for my Savior. I am grateful that he loves me so much that he was willing to give his own life, to suffer so much, just so I can partake of the joys of salvation, and the peace that it brings.
I am grateful that we are put in situations that help us grow, and that allow us to help others grow.
Today is a good day, and I want the world to know it!
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Denny's Run and Killing Casper
Last night my buddies and I went on a Denny's run. For those of you who are unaware of what this is (which I believe is most of you) it's a college ritual in which a group of students, between the hours of 12 and 4 am, cram themselves into a confined moving space for approximately 45 minutes to an hour only to emerge from said space in front of another confined space (though this one is about ten times bigger than the first, and doesn't move) where they will stuff their faces until Zack, Bobby-John, Callie, or Cheeto scream out in protest. They will then use paper or plastic to show their appreciation to the establishment's minions for said experience, return to the moving space for yet another 45 to 60 minutes only to return to their apartments and collapse onto the bed, exhaustion from the previous day and the event of stuffing their faces finally taking hold. AKA we drive to the nearest Denny's and enjoy a meal.
The drive to Denny's was quiet and ultimately uneventful. Well, save for the close shave we had with a car while turning into Maverick. Talk about having your life flash before your eyes! Many thanks go out to Kayla for that one. And the driver of the other car.
The bulk of the drive home was uneventful as well. Until we hit the edge of a neighboring town. By this point we were pretty much sick of the car, and ready to be home in our beds. As the car puffed along down the highway we were suddenly met with a clear substance that splatter itself across the windshield. Any unimaginative person would simply say, "It was the sprinklers from the cemetery; they shoot really far!" But no, it wasn't the sprinklers. It was Casper, that friendly ghost, out trying to spread some late night love and Kayla just ran him down with her car like he was a nobody. Rude, I know, not to mention she didn't even bother to give the poor ghost a moment of silence. She just turned on the windshield wipers, cleaned of the windshield, and kept on driving. Some people's children...
The drive to Denny's was quiet and ultimately uneventful. Well, save for the close shave we had with a car while turning into Maverick. Talk about having your life flash before your eyes! Many thanks go out to Kayla for that one. And the driver of the other car.
The bulk of the drive home was uneventful as well. Until we hit the edge of a neighboring town. By this point we were pretty much sick of the car, and ready to be home in our beds. As the car puffed along down the highway we were suddenly met with a clear substance that splatter itself across the windshield. Any unimaginative person would simply say, "It was the sprinklers from the cemetery; they shoot really far!" But no, it wasn't the sprinklers. It was Casper, that friendly ghost, out trying to spread some late night love and Kayla just ran him down with her car like he was a nobody. Rude, I know, not to mention she didn't even bother to give the poor ghost a moment of silence. She just turned on the windshield wipers, cleaned of the windshield, and kept on driving. Some people's children...
Friday, September 2, 2011
Graveyard Gallivanting
NOTE: This Post is also available on our apartment blog, so it's okay if you've already read it. :P
Kayla, Connie, and I went gallivanting in the old Ephraim cemetery last night. Little creepy, and in hind sight, probably really stupid, but it was an adventure that we can talk about. :P
As we walked through it, we stayed close to each other (some of us grabbing onto the arm of the person next to us) and we stayed on the road.
I have never walked through a graveyard at night. I have driven through one, but never actually gotten out of the car, so this was a new experience for me. I was okay for the first part--just kept the thought of how creepy it really was in the back of my mind--but then we turned down one of the roads so that we could circle around back to the gate where we left the car. The headstones were much closer to the road this time and out of the corner of my eye the tall ones did come across momentarily as people. *shiver* I just kept talking, doing everything in my power NOT to think about it all.
We turned down the road that would take us back towards the gate and Connie flashed her light up into one of the trees. When she did there was a rustling sound in the boughs and it made us jump a little. Apparently Connie disturbed some poor sleeping bird with her flashlight. At least, that's what we're telling ourselves...
The thing that scared us the most however, is that shortly after the tree incident there was a car driving down the main road. We turned off our lights and prayed that whoever it was didn't stop at the cemetery. See, the gate was officially locked, but there is this gap between the gate and the fence that is big enough for people to go through. So, we were terrified that we would get into trouble for being in the cemetery when we shouldn't have.
Can you believe that? It wasn't being in the cemetery at night, the old headstones protruding from the ground, or even the "bird" in the tree that frightened us. It was the thought of getting into trouble that scared us. Ha! Can you tell we're not troublemakers normally?
Kayla, Connie, and I went gallivanting in the old Ephraim cemetery last night. Little creepy, and in hind sight, probably really stupid, but it was an adventure that we can talk about. :P
As we walked through it, we stayed close to each other (some of us grabbing onto the arm of the person next to us) and we stayed on the road.
I have never walked through a graveyard at night. I have driven through one, but never actually gotten out of the car, so this was a new experience for me. I was okay for the first part--just kept the thought of how creepy it really was in the back of my mind--but then we turned down one of the roads so that we could circle around back to the gate where we left the car. The headstones were much closer to the road this time and out of the corner of my eye the tall ones did come across momentarily as people. *shiver* I just kept talking, doing everything in my power NOT to think about it all.
We turned down the road that would take us back towards the gate and Connie flashed her light up into one of the trees. When she did there was a rustling sound in the boughs and it made us jump a little. Apparently Connie disturbed some poor sleeping bird with her flashlight. At least, that's what we're telling ourselves...
The thing that scared us the most however, is that shortly after the tree incident there was a car driving down the main road. We turned off our lights and prayed that whoever it was didn't stop at the cemetery. See, the gate was officially locked, but there is this gap between the gate and the fence that is big enough for people to go through. So, we were terrified that we would get into trouble for being in the cemetery when we shouldn't have.
Can you believe that? It wasn't being in the cemetery at night, the old headstones protruding from the ground, or even the "bird" in the tree that frightened us. It was the thought of getting into trouble that scared us. Ha! Can you tell we're not troublemakers normally?
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