"Farewell, I Miss You. I'm Sick of These Goodbyes."

Yoyoyiggityyo, it's blogging time. I almost forgot again. My best friend, Jenni says it takes thirty days to form a habit. Let's see if I can blog habitually or if I'm just too fickle for commitment, once again.

So, today, I accomplished something huge for little ol' me. I walked two miles just singing Mayday Parade (I even made a playlist) and doing my best to clear my head. I do not exercise. I am so out of shape, it's just a tad pathetic. (Praise the Lord for this metabolism of gold, right?) Fact is, I'm lazy, and I felt very accomplished. (I would have gone further, but the sound of vicious animals in the corn fields terrified me into walking home.)

To the feels and to the point: I started walking to clear my head of the thoughts I've been having for the past few days. I had Mayday Parade on shuffle and that alone is a sign that I was having an issue. I needed to think of the aforementioned skater boy's apology, my closure, and the fresh lashing out I'd just gotten from his ex-girlfriend. (Admittedly, I had a petty argumentative moment with her and I feel terrible about it. I know she's hurt.) I felt trapped with my thoughts in my bedroom, and I was trapped under wide sky with those same thoughts. I didn't really feel any different.

How could I have had an argument with another girl about a guy that wasn't worth the hurt? How could I suddenly decide I missed him after a year? Why were these people just now deciding they had a beef with the past and popping unexpectedly out of the woodwork? I was honestly confused. Truth is, I still am.

I have a thousand questions. And I always will. And while I'm okay and  very very happy with my life, I would still like to sit down with Skater Boy and hash things out once and for all. Ask my "whys" and release every burden of a question I've acquired in the past two weeks and then see how I felt afterward. I'd love to know if he was ever bored with Haley and I. I'd love to know if he ever thinks of me or if he ever misses hanging out. And those are just the small ones.

The lesson I learned tonight is: It doesn't matter how much closure you get, you (Okay, I) will always have questions. I will never be able to clear my head because there are always too many thoughts swimming around in that big head of mine. Also, walking is relaxing and I'd like to make a routine of it.

This is me saying, I hope Coach Fowler is actually reading my blog, thanks to anyone that is entertained by my thoughts and rant-like posts, and shout out to Otto who's not "cool" quite yet.

Cayla xx

"Ayy, Say, Boy." Should Have Known I'd Write About You Eventually. xx

Let me start by saying, four days into this "blogging" thing, and I already almost forgot to do it. My mind can't focus on routine things, oddly enough. I hate routine.

Okay, time to get the blog ball rolling. Today, I had a very long, very deep discussion with one of my best friends, Grace. (Say hello, Grace. You're in my blog.) In short, I had a bit of a summer fling a year ago, and she was foggy on the entire thing. So, being the talker I am, I recapped the entire summer of 2012's events in one hour. (Record time, guys.) The first guy that really took interest in me. The everyday hangouts. The first kiss. (I was sixteen.) The abrubt cease, on his part, of communication. Everything. I told Grace everything, and it wasn't easy to talk about at some parts.

The fact is, after it ended (short and sweet, some have said), I had my fit, and I did my crying, and I got over it. Or so I thought. About a week ago today, this boy apologized to me. After an entire year. He apologized for falling off of the face of the earth.

"Nothing is your fault. I never meant to hurt you or anyone else."

I was so stunned that I'd even popped into his mind. This was that closure everyone was talking about, I was sure of it. He had apologized, and even though I'd forgotten, that's all I'd ever wanted him to do.

Then a day passed. Then another. And into the next week, I realized this was not closure. Why did he apologize to me? Was he actually sorry? Did he have an ulterior motive? I had so many questions, but I was afraid if I messaged him again, he wouldn't reply. But I did it anyway. (High-five me, reader.)

He responded with the good ol', same ol' I should have expected from him.

"There's a lot of bullshit going on right now, so I'm trying to get it all off of my chest."

Okay, hun. And you know what? That was good enough for me. I wished him luck (because it still sucks to see him struggle. It really is a bunch of bullshit) and he thanked me and we said goodbye. (Okay, we said "later" because I'm too punk rock and he's to skater to say a dorky-ass "goodbye".) And then I smiled. Because I had the closure I needed. That quick little back and forth was all it took for me, and now I truly AM okay.

I feel like I could walk up to him and give him a hug and a high-five and I'd still be able to walk away smiling. And, truthfully, I only have one regret, and it's the biggie. I wish I'd never gone into this "thing" having feelings for him. I wish we were just friends. He was fun to be around, and he was a dumbass (my favorite part, actually), and he always made my friends and I laugh. I never had a dull moment around him, and I haven't found many people like that during the duration of my seventeen years of life. I actually sometimes wish we could still be friends. Just overlook the past and shake hands and agree that we'd be cool and just kick it together. But, who knows? Maybe I'm just reminiscing because it's been a whole year. Maybe I actually mean it. I'm just as much a mystery to myself.

Getting balls deep in emotional things,
Cayla xx

P.S. If you're reading this, which I'm quite positive you aren't, WHY ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH WOULD YOU CUT ALL OF YOUR HAIR OFF? Shit, man.