My crush. i love you.

Hey Tessa!

Oh hey Terik!

 thats it. thats all i said wednesday morning. i kept walking down the hallway.

.......................................................................

Tessa wait up!

i turned around to see him. hes tryin to catch up to me walking down the hallway, right before bell rang for first. on wednesday morning. 

Oh hey Tirk! i waited for him.

so i got next tuesday off of work. we were planning on hanging out still right?

yeah! thats awesome! lets plan on that then :).

he smiled at me.

he smiled at me.

i smiled back. i turned left.

he turned right. 

he turned right. i glanced at him as i turned.

.......................................................................

i cant believe it. that was it. im in denial still. hes gonna call me any minute to ask me about tuesday.

what are we doing tuesday Tess?

i dont know Tirk. i dont know.

Pretty Girl Rock. Keri Hilson

everyone has their favorite song. that go-to song that lifts them up. makes them wanna party. makes them wanna cry. or dance. or drive. or sing. or whatever. and you know that song so well that you can hum every strum.

sing every line.
beat box every background noise.
its just your song. you can count on that recording more than your own car starting each morning.

but have you heard that song live?

your idol is on that stage in your city in front of thousands.
they pull out their special guitar and pick that first note. the crowd screams because they know its that song.
and you know its that song too.

its different.

they sing it different.

the notes are all wrong. the strums are not strums; theyre picked. they add a note change instead of belting it the way you memorized it. the background noises youve beatboxed to for the past four months have vanished.
they change a word. that word was your favorite part of the melody.

those realizations change you.

recordings are not live performances
texts are not the same spoken
home videos are not the memories
peoples words are not their actions
bricks are not wood

 

but wood can be used to build a house too right?

yeah maybe theyre not what you planned on using to build. but maybe thats all you have. as humans we adapt to survive. we're supposed to try and figure out how to live with change.

but maybe id rather die than not hear that word in the melody.

because hearing your name is all i want to hear. i hope its all you want to hear too.

How To Save A Life. The Fray

books can change lives.

literally. ive read bunches of em since elementary school. and i always loved to read.
unless someone forced me to. then i hated it. i don't know what i would've done without sparks notes. it saved my English 10H grade more times than my charger saved my phones dying battery.
anyways.
i came across this one book and i loved it. i read that book possibly ten times. i loved it so much it scared me. that book taught me so many things.
for one. we cannot possibly know anything about anybody's  lives.
you may think you know your best friend's crush or their families names or where theyve lived or even their deepest darkest secrets. but you still dont know them.

you dont know them at all.

and the only person who will ever be the closest at winning that race is their eternal lover. whom you won't meet for another year or possibly ten.
you might never meet their lover.
and i cant wait to find that person in my life.



secondly. you can't judge.
 anybody. or even yourself really.
you might walk down the city streets and see a couple. one being a cute little girl of 5' 3'' blonde and petite. the other being a 6'5'' guy with tattoos scrawled all the way down his shoulder.
hair touching his neck.
lip ring.
rough eyes and calloused hands.
you may think they are wrong for each other. they see things that no one else sees.
they see sparks. they see scars. pains. joys. light. acceptance.

there is nothing greater in this world than to be finally accepted by somebody you love.

to truly accept somebody is to know the "plain them" so well that youd call them even when they say not to. youd rather let your phone die while talking to them. well not really but i would.
i would talk to them until my voice was raw and my battery was screaming at my stupidity.




and you will fight.
you will fight everything from that eternal lover to your parents to your siblings to your dog.
youll fight about the stupidest stuff like who lost the remote, who bought the one ply toilet paper, who loves the other more, whos laugh is the most obnoxious, and where your missing sock went.
youll fight over who pays which bill. what brand of paint youre going to use.

but you know what?? id fight my eternal lover every day.

because that means i care. im accepted enough by you that i want you to hear my opinion on where the couch should go.

and sometimes youll have to leave. youll get so furiously upset that youll need to go.
somewhere. but just for a little while.
maybe the park. a drive. shopping. a pub.
who knows where thatll be. but they will know you will always return.

ill know you will always return.

because when you leave it means youd rather keep it elsewhere than show it to me.
and ill appreciate that. i wont even be mad when you return.

and love. love so much that it kills you at the same time. give away so much of it that you drowned. but theyll return that love. and itll save you both.

 

this book is one of my favorite books of all time. and i will never forget its story.
books can change lives.
and this one changed mine.

Photograph. Ed Sheeran

things i like

downton abbey
getting paid
chick fil a waffle fries
my phone
talking- wayy too much probably
jesus sandals 
airports
starbucks- venti size
thick scarves
grams house
apples
making to do lists
socks
pinterest
mac & cheese
keeping up on everyone's blogs 
sweats
los angeles
swingsets
shorts and tank tops
long hair
reading
dirty diet cokes
trampolines
new york city
guitars
pasta- alfredo especially
thick comforters
london, england
baby lips chapstick
disneyland
my closest friends
pecans

things i love

mom & dad

sibs

God

understanding where people are coming from

different points of view

scrutinizing lyrics

old pictures

expressing your feelings
that third bite into an apple

music

a newborn wrapping their hand around your finger

ampersands

the sound of rain

laughing- wayy too much probably
sleeping in

hearing a child say "here, i drew this for you"

family home videos

that voice you use when speaking to your dog

live concerts

me

finding out that you have something in common with someone else

singing. loudly.

watching the sun set from the ocean
searching for things to write about

going to grams house on sundays

things i like are not the same as things i love

the things we love aren't always necessarily tangible 

maybe because the things we love aren't objects but experiences with the things we like

and i love that.



the idea that love is nothing you can touch with your hands
or your lips
or your eyelashes.

you cant give yourself love. not the kind of love we all wish for.
its meant to be a gift. its meant to be something that we toss out.
like a paper plane.
we want that plane to fly. so badly do we wish for it to stay on the wind forever. but the pilot denies our plea and grants us permission to land too soon. and thats how we fall.

and thats why we dont love everything.
 because we hate falling.
its scary. its raw.


i think raw is the best and the absolute worst word to describe love.
raw
meaning its not sugar coated. theres no glaze on this donut.
its how it is. raw
yet, raw? like what?
raw like a cold carrot from the fridge, raw? or maybe the raw that paragraphs describe as scrubbed down to the bone?

raw: its free of dirt.
theres no thought to it. its free of any analysis or second guesses.
its damp and warm
its untrained yet all-knowing
its difficult to express but easy to feel
and i love that.

love is raw. and i love that.

pinteresting

 

 

and the moral of the story is

Au Revoir. One Republic

today you talked to me

you looked me in the eye for the first time ever since her and it was air to my gasping lungs
why do the lungs still grasp this air? even when they know it'll start walking away when you do?
you grazed my arm.
and i cried. for that slient pulse that had escaped me for months had just returned home. the son had come home to his perfect parents and i welcomed him.
to feel the son crying on my shoulder
turn around and continue down that road towards the alcohol once again.
and i cried once more. 

how can someone lose so much when in reality they've lost nothing?

the waves in the halls are still present
smiles possibly even brighter now than in the bleak cold
your parents are still tugging on your homestring while you're begging them to give it up.
the accents of consonants haven't changed.
your sibs constantly grasp your ankles so tight that they becomes numb, and you forget they're only trying to get your attention.

so i didnt really lose anything. i never had you. i thought i almost did at one point. and i guess thats what the scariest part of being alive is.

being told no

you made me laugh today.
but this time you didn't touch me. or my drowning lungs.
for we had found a way to make our own air. without help
and i felt alive because i had found the way to live after her.
i found a way to live after you.

thanks for the air when i needed it. you saved me. and ill never forget you.
ill love you. always. 

love tessa

to hardin. whom i will always adore.