Absolute Occurrence is Irrelevant

Remember when we were little?

You liked baseball. I tried to play, because you told me thats what everyone played. I trusted you. I thought it was something that I was going to learn to like. But then I got older, and I went to school. I made friends, I had sleep overs, and playdates. My friends didn't play baseball. I watched closer, because that didn't make sense. Why did you tell me something, that nobody else seemed to believe was true.

I decided to quit baseball. You didn't like that. You took a bat and hit me hard on the hip. Hard enough for me to feel, but in a place no one could see. I played for another week. I said to you again, that I didn't like baseball. The pony tail you put in my hair for the game that night, ripped a chunk of hair out. I played another week. I'd quit. You'd "convince" me to play another week. Till one day I walked out to the pichers mound and screamed

"I DON'T LIKE BASEBALL! I DON'T WANT TO PLAY ANYMORE

I haven't played since.

Do you remember a few years ago?

You liked basketball. You have no idea that I liked it to. You'd play for hours, and I'd sit on the side lines. During your warm up, sometimes I'd come and shoot the ball. You never passed the ball to me. I waited patiently. I continued to practice, because one day you'd notice. We'd talk on our drives to the gym, and one day I told you "hey, I'm pretty good at basketball too." You looked at me, looked forward, and the next day picked up golfing.

And here we are today...

You're a swimmer. All you talk about is swimming. How I need to swim, how swimming is the only sport you can remember, how freeing it is. I look at the pool, and I don't trust it. I remember the times I've chocked on water, when I've needed water and couldn't find any, when I've trusted water and it turned out to be tainted.

But I walk catiously to the pool. I nervously extend my foot over the edge and emerse my toes. I bring my foot back out, still unsure if I want to swim. Or if I can. With you in the pool, constantly reasuring me of it's wonders, I slowly sit down. Putting my feet completely in, I realize the water is colder than what you described. I decide not to point that out, because part of me likes it. I begin to swirl my legs, almost splashing in the water. You keep telling me to get in. I remind you, look, my feet are in. You get mad at me, saying I need to swim, that I'm not swimming. I look at you and hiss "I'll get in when I'm ready." Irritated, I start to stand up.

You grab my arm and pull me in.

I wasn't ready to get in. I told you that. The water fills my lungs and stings my eyes, as I panic to climb to the surface. I kick to the edge. I desperately scramble to to climb out of the pool. My hair and clothes now soaked with freezing cold water. I continue to cough up the water that filled my lungs. My eyes are stinging and my throat is rough. You stand there in the pool, looking at me confused, you don't seem to understand why I don't want to swim.

Looking at you, my eyes thin into a glare. I bit my lower lip, while ringing out my shirt. Locking eye contact I fight back the urge to show you the bruise, the one that's still on my hip. Or the bald spot, on the back of my head. I fight the urge to scream, that I don't like swimming.

So I grab my coat and walk away.

idunno

So. I'm finally at that age.

The age I can remember other people reaching.

My aunts, dance teachers, young women leaders, and brother's friends.

The age that, while I was growing up, everyone "here" seemed to know.

Know exactly where they were going.

Know exactly what they were doing.

Know exactly who they were.

~

Where everyone was

Moving out.

was/getting married

Graduating College

Starting their career

Having Children

Starting their own "families"

Staring in their own world.

~ I remember being younger.

Saying I wish I was that age.

I wish I was there.

If only I were done with this "stage"

~ Everyone told me to stop.

Not to wish my life away.

That I would miss those years.

That I would long to have them back, When really they should have said

"Hillary, I have no idea what the freak I'm doing"

~

Or did they?

Did they all... somehow, have it as

..."figured out"...

As it appeared?

~

People ask me all the time

"What's your major?"

With a smile and fantastic posture I answer

"The Social Science Composite Teaching Major"

...I want to be a teacher...

I want to be a teacher

I love teaching.

(I Think)

~

I get asked that on a regular basis.

I answer it confidently e.v.e.r.y.t.i.m.e.

When really... I'm maybe 77% sure.

(82% on a good day)

(95% if a teacher is complimenting my "skills")

~

So this makes me wonder

Was everyone I talked to just

Mostly Sure Or Pretty Sure

And did they asnwered confidently (like I do)

To avoid

Questions

Confused looks

Not welcomed advice

and incorrect labels

~

So.

To everyone who "has"

how sure were you really?

To everyone who "is"

how sure are you really?

(I finally got my grandfather to admit that school was hard. That sometimes it felt never ending. That once in a while.... he just wanted to quit.

I took a huge sigh of relief while driving home)

May I Have This Dance?

ok.... ok ok ok ok..... OK! I admit it... While I HATE 97% of "Chick Flicks" I'm a hopeless romantic. This is probably one of my all time FAVORITE songs. I can put it on repeat and listen to it for probably an hour, easy. Aren't they wonderful? This song just makes me wanna slow dance in the kitchen. Go ahead.... try and tell me it doesn't do the same to you.

Fur Elise

"... Of course, I am resolved to rise above every obstacle, but how will it be possible? ..."

-Ludwig Van Beethoven