sixty chicken nuggets

"I know what it takes to move on

I know how it feels to lie

All I want to do

Is trade this life for something new

Holding on to what I haven't got"

-LP

Mid-February 2011

I'm remember driving home to my mom's house for the weekend, it was a few weeks after valentines day. My sister got really into the holiday that year, and she had a whole bag of Valentines presents for me. There was even a card. The cover of the card had an African American woman on it, and I remember how everyone stood around making jokes, because they all knew that I had never really gotten over you. At the bottom of the bag was this silver necklace with a boy and a girl charm on it. I liked it so much that it wore out.

It was your February break, you had a cellphone again, and suddenly we were texting each other almost every day and I'm lying to myself about it not meaning anything, and realizing that you haven't lost your power over me like I had hoped. I remember not being able to admit to myself that I was still falling for you, because I was trying so hard to keep my feet on the ground, and my love for you all separated out and simple. I kept forcing myself to remember that terrible conversation we had online, when you told me that you thought of me as, "...a great friend, sister like."

Two of my close friends had just started dating, they had both heard about our unfolding winter drama and had met you a couple times. Our plans for that evening, were for us girls to grab some dinner so we could talk, then the boys would meet up with us later for a movie.  I remember going through the McDonald's drive through window with my friend, we were getting our usual, a twenty piece chicken Mcnuggets and large fry (disgusting, I know) to split, when I started telling her how glad I was that we never worked out, I started spewing out all these weird arguments, it was like I couldn't stop myself, I guess I was trying to justify to her,  and myself, that it was okay for us to hang out. My friends boyfriend showed up to my apartment right after we got back with our food. He knew what we usually ordered and had grabbed us more nuggets, not knowing we had just gone there. sixty nuggets. For some reason there were sixty. Those nuggets ended up in the back of my fridge for months.

I remember calling you while we were eating. I put you on speakerphone so you could pick out a movie and see what time they were playing. I remember talking to you and how it seemed like you had suddenly developed this really strong accent. You were really hard to understand and my friend was looking at me all weird, and it was like I was hearing and seeing you through her ears and eyes, and you sound so young and foreign, and I'm questioning myself for a second, but then you show up, and as soon as I see you, your voice sounds regular and your face seems so lovely that everything else fades away.

I remember when you showed up, how I felt like jumping out of my skin because the room suddenly felt electric and too warm, and I'm prancing around like a careless, teenage girl, offering to make everyone ice cream. I remember not being able to concentrating on what I was doing, and I forget to put in an essential piece on the machine, so I ruined the whole batch of ice cream, but we ate it anyways. I'm trying to take your picture on my new phone so your face would pop up when you called, but you wouldn't smile in your picture, you were just so serious and direct with your gaze, that it made me uncomfortable, so I gave up. You started telling us stories about how you almost died twice on the same bridge in Africa when you were little, and I'm sitting beside you bursting with happiness because you're here with me and we're having so much fun that we forget to go to the movie. You had to leave for soccer practice, but you offered to come back after, and I was surprised, but glad that you wanted to. You were always rushing off, or finding an excuse to leave, but this time, it was so different. You wanted to be there, and I felt it. After you left, my friends just kept saying over and over, "I don't remember him being that dark," and I just kept smiling, because I didn't care or notice what color you were, or what you sounded like. I just wanted you to be mine.

what is love?

Valentines Day 2011*
Ha, the whole holiday just doesn't bother me one bit. I don't give a hoot about it. That year I was just thankful to still have my finger. I was so grateful for everything in my life, and how I was able to do more and more as my finger healed. Valentines day meant that me and all of my single friends would dress up and go out for sushi. This time, I didn't even think to invite you. It was fun, and easy. My roommate made us all matching heart bracelets. Everyone made fun of my bandage with their wash cloths. I was so content for the first time in months.

I had agreed to help you and my roommate make a video for youth group. The topic, love. Ironic, I know. I was actually okay with the whole thing. I showed up to your school with dirty hair, the sweatshirt I wore when I was feeling fat, and a bad attitude. My hair was so greasy, I remember throwing a hat on. I had stopped caring what you thought about me, I didn't try to be near you any more. I stopped being careful with my words. I remember how we went to your school and walked around interviewing people on campus. We asked them what love meant to them. A lot of the answers were silly, some of them were serious. You and I both pretended to be random people. You pretended to be a boy named Bobby. I remember how you said, "Love is a lot like chocolate cake. When you have it, you're happy, and when you don't you're sad." 

When we were done with interviews, we ordered Chinese food and watched a movie in your dorm room. You were folding your laundry the whole time, not really paying attention to the movie. You acted as if we weren't even there, not in a rude way, but in a way that was comfortable, and for once, I didn't mind. It was just like old times, except this time, I had zero expectations. It was a fun day, and I was so proud of myself for being able to hang out with you and not feeling so much pressure for once. When I got home I uploaded our videos so I could edit them. I found one that wasn't like the others. You were holding the camera, almost hiding it, and everything was really shaky, but it was a shot of me walking alone. I was pretty confused, and deleted it since it didn't seem relevant for our youth group video. Later on it would all make sense, everything would. I recently went back and looked for the video , but it's long gone. I did find this clip. We were so awkward and too careful around each other. I guess this is what it looks like when two people pretend not to care too much. I can't believe I have all this proof. None of this seems like it really happened, but then I see the pictures, and I watch the videos, and there it is. I wish I could see it all with a fresh pair of eyes. I guess I still want to find answers and meaning in every little thing.

bejeweled & a broken finger

"Jesus, You're the one who saves us

                                                         Constantly creates us into something new."

-Gungor

February 7, 2011*
February brought me a real surprise, I was working a couple days at the mall so my friend and the whole photography studio could go to their holiday party in boston. Working there for two days paid a lot more than my regular job, so I would take a couple days off and answer phones, take messages, and play bejeweled for hours. It was a regular winter day, I was all dressed up and carrying my lunch in my purse, which made it really heavy (chicken noodle soup.) I was getting over a pretty bad cold, and feeling really lousy. I walked in the back entrance for mall employees, I opened the one side of the double storm doors and stepped inside. It was super slippery and I reached back to catch myself. I remember feeling the worst pain I've ever felt, and realized that I had shut my index finger in the door. I turned to open the door and saw that the tip of my finger was barely hanging on. I quickly grabbed it and applied pressure. The mall was just opening, and no one was around. I dropped my keys and started searching for someone to help me. A man came out of nowhere and heard me saying, "I need an ambulance," over and over. I started to pass out from seeing all the blood. I felt guilty that these strangers were being so nice about cleaning up all my blood. I started muttering things like, "I don't have AIDS." I ended up taking an ambulance ride to the hospital, getting some xrays, and eleven stitches. The tip of my finger was broken, and I couldn't use it. My mom drove the couple hours from her house, stayed with me at the hospital for the day, then brought me back to her house.

I was so depressed, I didn't realize how independent I was until I couldn't use my hand. It was so hard to shower, I couldn't drive, and being at work made me paranoid. I work in a school with 90 children, and I was nervous that one of them would bump into, or grab my finger by accident while playing a game. I started to realized what was important and why. I knew that God was breaking me of a lot of things. He was trying to get my attention, and this was how he chose to do it. My whole life I thought that a boy would come along and love me so much, that it would fill in those empty space and make me feel better about myself. I kept waiting for that to happen, and I thought that you could do that for me, but in the end, you just made me feel worse about myself. I remember asking my sister who is married now, if she felt more confident and whole when she was with her husband, and I remember how surprised I was when she told me that it wasn't true. She told me that she had never been brave or good at talking to people, and that I would always be more confident than her. It made me so confused, she was beautiful in every way, but still lacked confidence in small things. This made me realize how much I wanted to be with you for all the wrong reasons. You couldn't fix me, only God could fix me. I had to start over and learn to put my trust in things that were trustworthy. That long hallway at the mall still repulses me. When I go in that door, I still gag and get nervous. It smells like grease and dirty feet. I remember how you sent me a message on facebook saying you had heard about my accident, that you hoped I was okay, and that you were praying for me. We hadn't talked in so long. I remember thinking it was nice of you, but not reading into it. I wanted to fix my hope on things above.

the only good thing about new years, is that it's new...

"So this is the new year.

And I don't feel any different."

-DCFC

December 31-January, 2010*
Christmas and New Years, what a blur. I'm trying to get this all right, I'm scanning through pictures and reading through journals. Everyone thinks I'm crazy for going back and remembering it all, for rehashing every little memory in detail. Maybe I am crazy, but part of me thinks that the only way to get over this, is to see it all out in front of me, to see all of my mistakes and acknowledge them. Maybe I'll be able to sift out what was my fault and what wasn't. I really healed after Christmas, letting go changes everything. I felt relief. All my questions were answered, and I felt satisfied for once. Even though it wasn't what I wanted, I wasn't waiting around, hoping for something that was never going to happen. Celebrating New Years has always been a big deal growing up. My sisters, my best friend, and I would dress up all fancy, put on a ton of makeup, eat finger foods, and sit around in the living room waiting for the ball to drop. I'm not sure why we get so dressed up, we never even go anywhere. In the morning there is a tradition on the Native American Reservation where my dad lives, called New Yah-ing. It's almost like Halloween. You go from house to house yelling, "Happy New Yah!" Then you receive a baked good. I always end up missing it because we can't wake up early enough. Those are our traditions.

The end of 2010 brought out a random group of people to my mom's house. I felt so disconnected from everyone, like I was just going through the motions of everything. I'm not sure if I told anyone or not, but I had invited you to our house for new years. I wanted to make sure you knew that we were still friends, and I would still invite you to things. Part of me just wanted you to be there too. I knew you wouldn't come. You hated stuff like that. I didn't blame you, it was always you and a bunch of girls. I just wanted to ring in the new year with you I guess. I knew it was a bad idea. I remember wearing my fancy black and gold dress but not taking off my sweatpants because I was too cold and I just didn't care anymore. In all the photos I'm trying too hard. I kept wondering when I would stop living my life in terms of you. January was your birthday. I can't even remember if I told you happy birthday or not. We were becoming strangers, but that was how it had to be. Next stop, valentines day. Things were about to get crazy.