It was an unusually warm November Tuesday when a hankering for ice cream took the best of me. It took some begging and pleading, but I was finally able to convince everyone else that, they too, wanted ice cream. On the way to the ice cream shop, we talked and sang along (quite loudly, I might add) with the radio. We were happy. Who wouldn't be with the promise of ice cream? We pull into the parking lot, and I spend a few minutes talking about Jeff Buckley. Why? I'm not sure exactly because my sister did not know who I was talking about. I found that to be absolutely appalling. Almost as if I had failed as a sister for her getting to age nineteen without hearing of Jeff Buckley. We walked into the ice cream shop, and the anticipation was almost more than I could bare. (Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating, but you must know that I really wanted ice cream!)
Just two people stood between me and the counter. It was almost my turn to order when the door opened. That's when I heard it - the laugh. The same laugh I had heard almost everyday until I made the decision to be homeschooled. The same laugh that was almost always directed at me. I did not have to turn around to see who it was. It was her. The girl who made my life miserable for five years. Before I knew what was happening, I was having a mini-panic attack. I mean, it had been eight years since we had seen each other. (I somehow managed to avoid her when she was dating the neighbor, but that was still five or six years ago.) I didn't want to make eye contact, fearing she'd realize who I was. I just wanted out. I ordered our ice cream and stepped to the left. I talked to my sister and responded to text messages, trying to seem oblivious to the world around me. (Usually, it's difficult to stay aware of everything around me, but that wasn't happening.) We got our ice cream and I made it to the car without a scratch.
Now you must know that, for a few days, I had been engaging in what I call "emotional eating", so the fact that I ate the entire medium Blizzard in one sitting isn't surprising. I was completely distracted by that almost close encounter. What would I say to her? What would I do if I had actually come "face-to-face" with her? She made my life hell in school. I would come home from school, crying almost everyday. We even rode the same bus at one point. It wasn't a fun time to be Caitlin. I laid awake that night, thinking about how I let her consume my thoughts and feelings. I realized that she wasn't the only one I let get to me. Between my family and my friends (old and new) and the random people that I encounter everyday, I don't think I've had feelings that were soley based on my own thoughts or actions in a while. A somewhat sad truth is that the books I read, music I listn to, and the movies I watch can either make or break my mood. I've gone to bed angry over a movie. WHO DOES THAT?! I never used to be that way. What happened?
Do you know what I think? I think it started when I went to Mount Vernon. I spent five years planning my life. 1)Bachelors and Masters at MVNU, 2) move to the city, 3) get a job, 4) go to grad school part time, 5) be Miss Independent, 5) and love life. Five years to perfect this plan. And it was completely destroyed in a really short period of time. It was not an easy time for me. A very, VERY hard lesson to learn. I have to have all of my ducks in a row before I do something. Well, I used to. I've learned to go with the flow. And sometimes that means you have to put your feelings aside and just do it. I guess I "go with the flow" too much anymore.
I need to make things happen instead of just letting them happen.
I'm going to quote him again, but this quote is still one of my all-time favorites.
"Maybe it's other people's reactions to us that makes us who we are."
1 comment:
I love you.
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