A Letter Written One Thousand Times Won't Take Me Back In Time...I'm Still Here...You're Still There.

...

I could list important dates or some of our awesome memories, but what would that do? Remind you of how much I hurt you?

At the beginning of our relationship, I had to convince myself that it was okay to like you. We got together so quickly, I'm thinking that it might have been too quickly. Five months seems like a stretch, but I wasn't prepared to be with you. It's not fair to you that I was selfish in my ways, but can you blame me for wanting someone who treated me like a princess?

Treating you the complete opposite of the way you treated me was wrong on every level, but I had become accustomed to finding attention in places where my nose didn't belong. You gave me all the attention I could have asked for and more, but I overlooked it. I felt sorry for myself trying to use my past relationship to justify my actions. 

Going out to the bar was the vehicle transporting me down the road of destruction. For some reason, I couldn't stop going whenever I had the chance. My friendliness was overbearing, and every guy that I was just being nice to took advantage of that. It was a misunderstanding until you explained the real deal to me, then it was my bad for not committing that to memory and leaving well enough alone. 

My begging won't get you back, and at this point I don't think anything will, but I feel compelled to explain myself. You deserve that from me as much as I deserve your silence.

Apologies aren't something that I'm really good at, because I don't usually feel sorry for many of my actions, but the sorry I owe you is far beyond my deepest, sincere apology. 

I want so much to create a simple chain of words that will make things better between us, but words are just words, and everything that happened, happened.

Feeling your love was the closest I've ever been to believing in magic, and you leaving was the biggest learning experience I've ever earned. You were right; this is hard.

I imagine us dressed up to go out but then staying in and dancing by ourselves...staying so late with you that my drive home is in a blizzard...riding in the truck with you and staring at the side of your face while you drive because studying your face meant that even when we weren't together I could see your face in my dreams...cleaning the kitchen together with the Frank Sinatra pandora station because  again, who doesn't love a nice dance?...coming home after a long day and jumping into your arms because when you held me I felt weightless...sitting on the beach on a warm September night staring out at our "fresh water ocean" admitting not only to you but to myself that loving you felt right. Memories of you and the love we shared create a euphoria for me. It's a high that makes me forget that you aren't coming home tonight, and that you won't be coming home on any future night.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry that the most recent memories that we have made us forget about how happy we were. I'm sorry that I didn't have the right mind to treat you like a man. I'm sorry that I made you experience feelings that nobody should have to bear, but most of all I'm sorry for taking a nail, hammering it into your heart and then just leaving it there. 

I'm also sorry for mentioning memories that only make the pain hurt more, but hey, the knife won't cut if you don't pick it up(you probably won't read this anyways, this is just a healthy release for me).

My thoughts of you will always be pleasant, and my love for you always sincere.

...

Emily Page.

Tell me again what this was supposed to be about..

Sing me the lullaby...the one that will lift my spirits unto eternal peace.  My soul needs a break from feelings.

Country music only reminds me of what I am not capable. My love is never accepted for truth but for every single lie they have ever been told.  Their misconception of conformity among women reserves a seat for me at the head table of lady liars.  Emily is not, and will never be, capable of loving enough to deserve a hint of reciprocation.

An old man ventured to Subway while I was working the night shift. The name embroidered into his jacket read "Dave."  His words to me brought a sense of sorrow as he explained the passing of his wife 39 days earlier.  She was his gift from God according to his touching story, but why did he feel so compelled to reach out to me?
Knowing nothing but my name, "Dave" mentioned to me that I had dated the devil. Freshly out of a relationship, this struck me as interesting as I was curious as to why he made such a harsh accusation. The remainder of his time at the subshop required me to listen to his teachings, but to be frank, he was preaching to the choir.

Weird things always happen to me.

My drive is gone. What am I doing with my life?

Missouri is not a pleasant word, but it is a wonderful place.  Ever since I was a child, I believed that my heart and soul belonged in St. Louis.  Michigan is as unappealing as the day is long.  There is no adventure here for me, and it's making me second guess the sanity of my family for choosing to live here.  I'm bored with the scenery.

Phobias are real.  If I had to mention one thing that I am deathly afraid of, it would be me gaining a huge amount of weight in a short period of time.  Some say it's a problem, I say it's a yearning to be fit enough to outrun a bear.

Juicing is new to me, but in the short time I have been trying it out, I've felt better about myself. Yay, juice.

Pandora suggested a new station for me.  My thoughts have never been so clear!  This must be what excitement feels like!  Too much exposure to this music might possess me to clean my bedroom and relieve it of things with no importance to me anymore...."ALL MY OBJECTS!"

It's a chill night.

Take time to breathe,
Emily Page.

waiting for a beautiful boy to save you from your old ways.

What do you do when you are ready to give all of yourself to someone who isn't willing to accept you and love you for everything that you are?! How do you compose yourself and deal with the heavy burden that has been slung upon your brittle self-esteem?! Do you withdraw the sum of everything you've saved in the bank of love becoming emotionally bankrupt?! 

I've lost my mind trying to understand why certain things happen in this worldly hell. Spending time lost in endless thought has led me into a sea of fear and failure. Standing on the sideline screaming encouragement to a deaf band. Control over anything more than my own person has become the greatest challenge, but is it really my challenge to conquer? The complexities of the soul tie themselves into knots. Maybe they are meant to remain tied up..meant to be appreciated in their natural form. 

Change. The inevitable effects of meeting new obstacles withers the personality at a slow, yet perpetual pace. For good or for bad, it doesn't matter. It happens. What matters is learning to welcome the new idea with an old fashioned heart. 

Love. Many modern definitions diminish the original meaning of this word. 

My mind is in recovery. Present speculation is simply a stone on which I will step, for someday I will completely interpret my thoughts...not for others to compare to their own progress, but for me to finally have a grasp on the concept of "purpose."

For now, my love is for myself. And when I am rich, then and only then will I be able to give myself away and remain whole.

Recent Thoughts

My transfer from Grand Valley to Ferris was a little rough. I was pretty late getting all of my information in, so my class list wasn't made until days before class actually started. I'm starting to get into the swing of things, but there are a few things that might continue to upset me this semester.

My communications professor, she is a little off. At first this didn't bother me. It didn't start to bother me until she started telling the whole class that we are going to fail because we don't listen.

I don't know if she realized this, but I was surely listening to this nasty assumption about an academically inclined group of students.

Professors like her make me angry.

We were told to give a speech about what makes us angry. She, in fact, makes me angry. Oddly similar to my writing professor at Grand Valley, she is closed minded. Anything that isn't done her way is the wrong way...unless it's a speech that you are passionate about giving....then she will decide to give that same speech as an example and tell you that you fail if you give the speech even the least bit similar to her speech.

I might write a book. My thoughts are so scattered, but all I have to do is organize. I don't even care if it takes years to get my thoughts onto a page. My thoughts overfill my poor mind. It needs a good cleaning. Putting my thoughts into a book is like saving information from my computer onto an external hard drive. 

It could be very well worth it. If a computer crashes, the hard drive still holds such sensitive but  important information. If I were in a bad car accident that caused me to forget things, I'd still have my own important memories saved into my external hard drive....in other words, my book.

This is...awkward.

It's been awhile since I've taken time to do a check up on my life at any certain point.  There are very few things that actually trigger my sense of creativity...the things that lead me to process a well thought out blog post.  This is a day blog, so my thought track isn't exactly on point, but it's definitely time to take out the trash.  I might actually be able to think straight.

We'll see.

I'm trapped.  Stuck in this life I never thought I'd live. Am I really falling into the position of the underdog? Is someone who owns a name other than my own seriously controlling my every move? It hurts.  This is the kind of claustrophobia of which I've always been afraid.  Loved for who I am, or loved for the person others  have created?  This question is a tough one, and I'm dreading the honest answer.

Country music has been so gentle to my ears as of late. Is this a phase?

Waiting is something upon which I do not look too fondly. Waiting once for something is okay, but continually having to wait for that something is too obnoxious for me to even withstand.

Have I become a people pleaser, trying so hard to make sure everything is okay on the other end, when in all reality I haven't been keeping myself happy? Do I even know what it means to be happy? I'm learning way too much about how hard life may be when you stay worried.

*sarcastic laugh* Worried? What do I have to be worried about?

Love. While listening to the song, "What is Love?" by NeverShoutNever, I ask the same question.
What is it exactly?  Is it giving up on yourself, having to have somebody else by your side always? Who knows... I try not to over analyze what it could mean.

Reading back to all of my previous blog posts, I thought to myself, "What could possibly possess me to think in such.....awkward....ways?

It's the middle of the day, and I have done nothing but write. What's gotten into me?! I've also been going to bed at reasonable hours.

The hardest I've tried to think in months,
Emily Page.

P.s. I have to be in school for what looks like more than 9 years...yay.

Your friend, my friend, why aren't we all friends?

All hell broke loose this past week. The exact reason as to why remains a mystery, but I guess it's another learning experience. Life gave me lemons, and I'm making nothing short of the best lemonade ever to be consumed by man.

Let's talk about "friends."

What does it mean to be a friend?

In this life, we are given the chance to meet people. We can choose from the moment we meet them whether or not we care to have them as a  part of our life or if we choose to deny their presence while continuing our search for friendship. Having always been an accepting person, I wonder why the search has to be so difficult. There is no logical reason as to why process of elimination is used when judging such things as appearance, hygiene, or social class. Do people feel as though they are too high class to befriend somebody who is less fortunate than they? That seems pretty ignorant, but the world is an imperfect place.

Everybody is my friend until they give me a reason not to trust them. I hate that it has to be that way, but some people simply decide not to be trustworthy.

Friendship is something that is super important while traveling life's narrow paths. Picking and choosing can be difficult. As much as I feel that everybody should be friends, it just can't happen. There are so many judgmental people in the world; it's nearly impossible.

Even after finding the right friends, you might even begin to realize how wrong they are for you. It seems silly, but after working so hard to be a good friend, it hurts to find out that they didn't work the same. They didn't put forth the same amount of energy to keep the friendship alive and healthy. Best friends aren't supposed to speak negative words about each other, and they surely aren't supposed to lead others to think ill of them either. It still happens.

Why?
It's the question I ask in most posts, but it's the most fitting. It is also yet to be answered.

People will try to work words into sense, but how could they do that when they don't even know what it means to reason?
I've run into this problem far too many times with the same person and multiple times with other people. I've come to understand the true meaning of Deja Vu.

While running through a field of poppies today, I stopped to think about how these simple little flowers are so similar to the complexities of life. Why is it that some of these flowers grow big, some grow small, some are pink, some are red, and some are white? What makes them so different? Well, some parts of the field might not receive the same amount of sunlight, some might rest in a little different soil than the others, and some might absorb water better than others. Just like humans, these flowers have obstacles...things that affect the way they grow which contributes to their appearance.
We have obstacles. Things that step in our way forcing us to grow in different directions are everywhere. As different as we make ourselves seem, we are truly all the same, and we need the same care just as the flowers do. The small flowers aren't offered less water because they are small, and the pink flowers aren't offered more sunlight just because someone thinks they are more beautiful.

All is beautiful.

The world is caught up in a large misunderstanding. We are similar but remain different to those who refuse to see otherwise. Those who refuse to see otherwise are usually the people who lead unhappy lives with shallow friends...if they have any.

Aside from that thought, I am thankful for the caring friends that actually comprehend the term "friendship" and follow the golden rule.

Wasn't even prepared to have a deep thought today,
Emily Page.

P.s. I guess what I'm trying to say in this post script is that I'm done trying harder for people who won't try at all.

P.p.s. Violence is never okay...........unless it's necessary violence.

Thoughts on "Why?"

As much as I shouldn't care, I can honestly say that I despise my ex boyfriend's girlfriend. I mean, I ended things with him over a year ago, and I don't know him enough anymore to say anything, but she is totally untrustworthy. She writes in her online journal about how she isn't totally sure about being with him. If you say you love somebody, then you shouldn't be unsure. Obviously she is unsatisfied.

I've never been more satisfied with anybody in my life than when I was with my most recent ex boyfriend. Sure things didn't work out, and that happens...I'm still wondering why, but it happens. I never told him that I loved him, but while I was with him, I thought I knew for sure that I'd be beyond satisfied with him for the rest of my life. There was never a moment of wondering if things could have been better, because I thought I had the best.
That's the kind of attitude she should have, but she doesn't. It doesn't matter if she's young. Telling the world how she feels while hiding it from the person that should matter the most to her is never okay. I did that once when I was a little younger, then I figured out that it was purely asinine. It would never be okay to do that to the one you refer to as "the love of your life." Granted, when I did it, I was 12 and didn't have a "love of my life."

Why do I laugh at the stupidity that is revealed so effortlessly in this world?

I'm not one to judge, but I can most certainly allot my opinion to whomever may come across it. This IS my mode of release.

Corresponding with always, my question being "Why?,"
Emily Page.

P.s. Love is real if you choose to believe in it. Don't be a Cynical Sinjin. Believe in love.

Always Okay.

I'm not broken, just bent. These words describe me as I fall back into the single life. There is nothing that even compares to the pain one feels while going through a beak-up. It's hard for both parties, but there is one thing that should always follow in your train of thoughts; It will always be okay. I've commit this to memory, and I full-heartedly believe that it is 100% true.

After only 2 months, I have forgotten what it was like to be single. Having boyfriends is most certainly not my scene, so when I do find myself in a relationship, that person is really special to me.

My last boyfriend was very special to me. I would still travel the whole world just to know that he is doing well, just to know that he is alright. Although we aren't a couple, we are still in a relationship. It's the kind of relationship guys and girls are lucky to find. We are comfortably close, and I'm okay with that. He deserves to have a friend who will always be there. I want to make sure that he isn't deprived of that, because everybody should have a friend who won't fail them.

Waiting for him to figure himself out seems ridiculous, but I don't think it would be a bad deal. I am also trying hard to sort my own thoughts and beliefs.

Memories slowly fade, but those moments that I fell in love with will never leave my head. These are what I have to keep me mentally alive and active. These are the things that show me that no matter what happened, I am blessed to have such wonderful thoughts dancing around in my mind.

Music.

Music plays ever so smooth while caressing my soul. It's just what I need to help me understand that I will in fact be okay.

Friends.

Friends are going to be there for me, but to be brutally honest, I hate going to my friends with a sorry heart. At that point, being alone is best. It helps me to think clearly and to release built up stress that no true friend should have to be exposed to. As willing as they are to invite themselves into the ways of emotional  torture, I want my friends to know a happy Emily.

Sad Emily rarely makes an appearance anyways.

Family.

My family glows with support for me. Their kind words always make me feel better, but it is the same with them as it is with my friends; I would rather they experience more of the happy Emily than anything else.

Emotions are not something I tend to be great at, but as I have learned everything else, expressing myself will come with time. Jotting my feelings down as they come and go really helps me. After spending the majority of my life bottling up my emotions, finding a way to release them poked a healthy sized hole into a balloon that would have burst at any given moment.

God.

God is there for me though all of my troubles. He is the only one to whom I can give my full faith and trust.

There are times when I am talking to friends while realizing that they don't know God like I do. As true as it is that they are free to believe anything that they want, it really creates this ache in my heart. Maybe the ache will go away if I help those to know God and his love like I do.
What if they are completely against what I have to say? What if they are more educated in science than I am in the Bible? What if I fail? Do I keep trying knowing that they might come to loathe me?

Yes.

Christians don't have to be hated, though. They can choose to encourage and not judge. They can be discovered by unbelievers in wonderful ways. All they have to do is love unconditionally. It seems hard and like something that only Jesus Christ can accomplish, but it doesn't hurt to try. Besides, doesn't the bible say that we should strive to be LIKE Christ?

Tonight will be a night full of sleep...or not, but we'll see.

Ever-confused, but working through it,
Emily Page.

Wide Ranges? Oh Well.

This feeling. I'm not sure exactly how to describe it, but it leads to tears that shed so consistently down my face. Every drop has meaning. When will I understand this meaning? I have finally burst; my emotions have broken free from their prison. It's hard to even see my computer screen through such a waterfall. It hurts, but it feels so wonderful all in the same minute. There's hardly a soul who will understand where I'm coming from as I cannot fathom this place on my own. I've never been here before; why am I here now? 

I pray. I pray hard.

My heart beats fast as I drown in my own worries. My stress has built up into as much as a sharp pain that shoots from my neck down to my finger tips. The cure is hard to find, but I refuse to stop looking until it is safely within reach. I want to be healed of this sickness. Is it a sickness, really? No. It's an exercise for my mind. I strive to have everything figured out. Right now, I am far from those remaining in that group of wants. It is impossible for everything to be figured out. Having everything means having nothing. Nothing to push for, nothing to give me a drive...nothing. At this point, happiness sparks from the work put-in in order to not fully achieve, but to simply inch toward my hopes and dreams.

Learning is fun.

Reality is finally hitting hard, leaving bruises overlooked by the eyes of every passerby. Bruises only felt deep within oneself. Deep within me. They remind me what I live for...

God.

Would the average Joe look at me and know who I live for and why? Would my attitude portray that of a young woman living through Jesus Christ? 

Everything that I do should trace back to the reason I believe humans exist. 

I want people to look at me and say, "Wow, look at her! She's so loving and overflowing with happiness! I want that too!"

In order to share love with the world, one must know what love is. The only way to know love is to know God, because God is love.

The feeling that I aim to know is quite lovely. I hope someday to befriend it and share it with the world. 

Love,

Emily Page.

This harmonica toots like it's alive!

What is it that God is trying to tell me? There is something inside me that is telling me that I'm wrong, that I don't know what I want even after knowing my whole life. I've known my whole life that I've wanted to live in St. Louis, but is it possible that I have always been mistaken? As much as I want to figure that out, I'm not quite sure how to go about asking God what his plans are for me. Listening is something I'm good at, but I've never tried to listen to God in this situation. Now seems to be the time, so I might as well put some Q-tips to use. My ears will need to be ready for anything.

Two dates have passed already where I was supposed to be on my way and starting a new life. It's difficult to believe that something I'd be stuck with has already begun to pester me half to death. Who's to say it wouldn't soon put me in my grave?

I'm not looking to be driven crazy. No thank you.

So far, I've thought pretty deep into this whole listening subject. Clues that lead me to stay in Michigan aren't making themselves bumps on my road of travel, but I've found myself stopped at a cliff. I don't want to jump off only to be stuck somewhere I don't belong.

Ethan.
There has never been a situation where I used somebody's real name in a blog, but...
Ethan.

Ethan ran into me while I was with a previous crush. Silly stories of ladies denying his cheesy pick up lines danced from his lips. My comments tore those ladies to pieces as they must be members of some NubClub. Any girl using fake numbers to turn down a nice guy has to be a real nub.

I taught Ethan how to get a girl's real number while actually giving him my own. How that happened, quite frankly I don't care. I just love that it happened. And now I am falling...into what I am unsure...but who cares? I'm falling into the arms of someone who will be there, no doubts.

Ethan is silly.
Ethan is wonderful.
Ethan is my boyfriend.
...and I like him! =]

Into a new pair of shoes, today's fruit is the lemon. There are countless uses for this magical citric wonder, but for the internet world, I leave two:
1. Applying the juice from half a lemon to the face can help clear skin.
2. Fresh lemon juice can help accomplish weight loss.

Pickles, Pickles, PICKLES!

My best friend has an ex boyfriend. Here are my thoughts:
  He is a bad kind of crazy.
  He is a liar of many sorts.
  He is very manipulative.
  He should be in politics.
  I don't like him.
  He can lick my big toe(words used by my angry grandmother).

Done due to sheer laziness,
Emily Page.

P.s. My sleep schedule is back to the norm.

Facebook..

Today, Facebook asked me how I was feeling. After awhile of staring at the computer, I decided that the question was rather ridiculous. There is absolutely no way possible that Facebook could ever understand or relate to anything that I happen to be going through. It doesn't quite grasp the concept of what it means to feel. This thought then sparked another. What if this is just a fix for all of the people out there with Facebook addictions?! What if Mark Zuckerburg created this site for more than just connecting to friends with distance. People don't necessarily have to let the whole Facebook world know what they are doing, how they are feeling, or what's on their mind at all hours of the day.
This is what I've figured out:
Facebook is for both people who have friends that don't care and people who don't realize how much their friends do care. If these people did in fact know they were appreciated, they wouldn't have to keep updating Facebook in order to find attention from people who most likely don't even care about them as a Facebook friend.
This is where I've discovered the negative effects of having a Facebook.
It keeps people from the real world.
It gives confidence to people who would never confront somebody face to face.
It creates false images of people.
It brings out ones inner creeper.

There are then a third type of people who use Facebook. That type of person is me. I am the one who uses Facebook for no such reasons but to post statuses that make people think. We all know that there are people who, if it weren't for Facebook, would never use their brain.
My stati are only made to confuse people, because I'm an evil soul.

That's enough for today's thought.

Loving this Jesus music,
Emily Page.

Subtracting you...solving math's problems.

Nobody. That's who I've learned that I can trust. Giving someone who is not yourself the power to break your heart is the biggest mistake anybody can make especially when you are expecting it. I don't know why I'm so upset about something I could see coming from three hours away.

And so it happens again. This anxiety will be the death of me, but don't take that too literally. As unbearable as it can be, this too shall pass. It's one thing to call me a weirdo knowing that I am already aware of the fact, but it is most certainly another thing to call me a weirdo in hopes to offend me. That really eats at the soul.

I'm sick. Sick of judgmental people. I thought I was pretty accepting. Turns out I was wrong. I don't accept rude, inconsiderate jerks who feel it is in their place to judge the rest of us. Nobody needs that in their life, because it only creates a hurt that's incurable. My hurt...still numb, so why must I try to cure it? Why not just throw a smile on top like a poncho? I'm laughing. There is no reason for me to hurt like this.

It all started the day after Relay for Life. I should have said no. There is no way it was acceptable for me to be out with no phone, no sleep, and no knowledge of where I was going. There would have been one less jerk and one less problem. I suppose if they want nothing to do with me then it's not so much a problem...for me anyways. I haven't stopped trying, and that's where the problem lies but not in my own hands. It's in their hands. Am I in the wrong for making this mess bigger than it needs to be knowing I don't have to clean it up?
...nahhhh.

It is so clear to me now. I've fallen. To get up, I'd be living! So, why not live?!

Nothing more.
Emily.

My Minute of Thought...Take 11?

Figuring out who I am has been a struggle for not only the people who try to care about me but also for myself. There are times when I ask why I have to be so complicated. After some stressful thought and good music, I've learned some things:

My name is Emily Page. I use my first and middle name as my signature, because there is something about middle names that caresses my soul. When talking to the people who are closest to me, I find it most fitting to call them by their first and middle name, because it shows a sense of care. That may be different for other people, but I do that in hopes that those people will understand how special they are to me.

Instead of showing more interest in the pretty things, I focus on things people judge as ugly. While others are quick to stereotype, I like to take time to look a little deeper and see just how beautiful each of these things can be. 

When it comes to sleep, my schedule matches the normal sleeping habits of people living on the other side of the world. It's quite normal for me to be awake while others around me are sleeping and vise versa. Day sleeping comes easier.

Texting and talking on the phone are the worst. I'd much rather make conversations and interact with people in person. There is so much confusion in reading one's emotion otherwise. Texting also takes up way too much of my time.

Crying is something that I've learned is unnecessary. Don't get me wrong, I feel great after a healthy cry, but it's something I like to happen only once in a long while.

This goes along with emotions. I feel as if my emotions were overused in a sense. I've become sick of showing them, so it's natural for me to appear emotionless in the majority of my life situations. 

I absolutely hate when people touch my face. I've had so many problems with acne and skin issues; I am simply self-conscious when the subject is brought up. Hundreds of dollars were invested in medicines and buying face makeup to cover what I thought was so wretched..which leads to another topic I've thought about.

Girls who pile on the foundation have a lot to learn. I used to be one of those girls, but in most cases it's different. There are way too many flawless girls piling on layer after layer of cover-up. They don't need it. They are beautiful in black and white...like those old films that are better watched without color. 

I'm the girl that prefers clean cut nails rather than long painted nails. It's less of a hassle and far less disgusting on top of that.

As much as I say I'd like to fall in love, I've come to the conclusion that best friends are better than boyfriends. Guys don't understand this, but here's the thing....they won't.

Tattoos, piercings, and colorful hair is more my style than the typical natural look. I've always wanted to gauge my ears, but my good hygiene trumps my style by a long shot.

My brain isn't confusing, it just thinks through everything faster than I can express.

My minute of thoughts while watching The Little Mermaid,

Emily Page.

Thinking. It's what I'm up to.

I would like to start this night out with the fact that I have three followers on this blog site.  That number doesn't even compare to the number of followers I have on Twitter, but I feel as though the people actually following my blog are the ones who are important to me. Actually, anyone who takes time out of their life to read my posts is most likely important to me.

I'm tired of living this life. My choices are all bad, and I can't help that. I have forgotten how to be myself. A new life seems impossible at this point in my life. While it may seem impossible for me, I know how possible it is with God. He is with me every step of the way. I simply have to trust in him to guide my life in the direction he has planned for me.

As I look at my life and the family I've made at Grand Valley State University, I've realized that as much as I'd hate to lose what I've gained, I must move forward. Grand Valley wasn't the place for me. My future, I've decided, is in my favorite place in the world. Taking this winter semester off to find a job is almost unrealistic for me, but I didn't know where else to turn. I feel as though God is leading me in this very direction. I figured this time is as good as any to start listening. St. Louis is big, and my plans are even bigger. I'm  looking forward to the opportunity that I will have in the place I wish to call home.

There is this thing that I absolutely hate to talk about. This thing is guys. They truly disgust me.

...actually...

I've come to a sudden realization. After having an emotional conversation (mind you, I'm not emotional...at all) I know that love is real. As my relationship with God has been a struggle for me, there was one person that helped me figure out where I was going wrong. A few years ago, I led myself to believe that there was no such thing as love. Since then, there was nothing in the world that could convince me otherwise. Tonight, one of my greatest friends in the world has helped me think on this situation deeper than I have ever thought on it. Within my brain, fire was made. Now fully comprehending a lesson that I've been taught my whole life, I know that without the love of God, no other type of love can exist. Relationships need to be based around God and the love he shows us, or we will not be able to truly replicate this love toward special people in our life on earth.

How could it have taken me this long to understand such a simple concept? Questions about why I felt the way I did about love were more than difficult for me to answer. My answer was always, "I don't know" or, "This is difficult to explain." Apologies were always made, because nobody was ever satisfied with my reply. People are always praying for me; this I know for sure. God has really taken his place as number one in my life, and I couldn't be happier.

I'm not even reluctant to say that I'm not sad about what I put myself through before I figured this out.

I'm happy to be thinking clearly again...I didn't even have to drink coffee.

This life that I live, I love it very much.

Nobody will ever tear me down.

Embracing God's power and love,
Emily Page..

It's Monday...but that's no excuse.

Last night. The first night that I actually had trouble falling asleep. Does that mean that I'm falling into my old habits? With a class at 8 o'clock this morning, I wasn't sure how today was going to play out. For some reason, my anxiety shot right through me, and my eyes were stuck wide open until a good 3am. There was too much on my brain. Thoughts coming and going from every corner of my mind...which leads to this morning.

Sleep finally made nice with my restless body when it was time for me to get up and prepare myself for the day. I knew something wasn't quite right, but I ignored it and moved on into my busy Monday. Psychology wasn't as bad as previous days, so I decided that this Monday was going to be one of the best. History was also very interesting as per it's usual, but then came my three hour break. Since there was a lack of sleep in preperation for success, I thought it was necessary to catch a few Z's before my math class. Something was still very wrong. Anxiety got the best of me yet again, so I had no choice but to lay awake until it was time to go.

During this sleep attempt, I received a text from a guy. We've been talking for quite some time. I asked how he was doing, and he replied with, "Good, I guess." Knowing something was up, I asked what it could be. This was the very last question I wish I had asked, because I knew how our conversation would end. It was the same story that I end up writing in my book of life every time. My heart hurt a little bit this morning, but I might actually believe that this guy was being genuine. He was super serious about needing to focus on his school work. There was also no way we'd ever be able to see each other seeing how he doesn't have skype. Skype isn't enough anyways. I wish I'd known him longer. Maybe things would be different.
My heart is in pieces. It's so hard to hold all of them by myself. The shards keep slipping through my bony fingers and stabbing my insides. Although I'm a little sad, I've learned from past experiences how to get over situations like this. It's no big deal.

Marching band completely changed my mood. Something about it creates this new person inside me. I forgot about being sad, and happiness took over my day! Who likes to be so melancholy anyways?!
I SURE DON'T! Life's too short to worry about things that upset you.

Writing class came at the close of my day. The half hour before it started, my productivity level was higher than normal. My introductory paragragh was done before class had even started. During class, my attention span had shrunk to it's bare minimum. Two straight hours of helping one of my fellow classmates sounded better than finishing my own paper. She complimented my revising/editting skills. I'm just happy to have helped her.

My day is almost over, and I'm as calm as the sea.

Not as deep as I had intended this morning,
Emily Page.

A Whole New Environment

The Zumburge Library has become my favorite place. I've only been in here no more than twenty minutes, but it's so serene. The environment is quiet, but that's generally how most library's must be. There is something special about this top floor that really tickles my brain's fancy. My thinking is crystal clear, and why? What could the reason be for this whole new thought process?! I'm intrigued at even this thought! My blogs might spark better towards more interesting topics in the future. Excitement is now all that is being held.

Grand Valley is lovely. The campus is great, and the people are nice.

The irrigation systems around here are ridiculous. I'm not sure a shower is what I was looking for on the way to my classes. It's merely a shame the staff don't know to fix it. Rather, it's a shame they don't have the motivation. It's impossible for them not to be aware of such activity. My thoughts were leading towards watering the grass and not the weeds in the sidewalk cracks.

Someday people will generate an awareness for their surroundings.

Marching band is intense! When people remember charts and music, it turns out to be quite the show. I'm proud to be in the Laker Marching Band, and I'm looking forward to our first game this saturday on the new field! The flicc's section leaders could not have been better chosen. I've known them for all of two, almost three, weeks, and I already love them!

This season is bound to be a great one.

The fridge in my dorm is broken. My ice chewing addiction cannot be satisfied, but I suppose a little trip to the freshmen commons will have to do. My two packages of bacon keep nice and cool...I guess I have bigger problems.

Bacon for dinner tomorrow.

Well, now Brandon is breathing down my neck. He wants to leave this wonderful block of peace.

I shouldn't hold him up.

To Meijer we go!

Until next time...and with more crystalline thoughts,
Emily Page.

Short Stack Pancakes.

I've been settled into my dorm here at Grand Valley State University for a solid week now. There are so many great things about this place; it almost seems unreal. Band camp was as fun as it was difficult. I met so many new people in the band, and they are all crazy like me! The directors are all so different, but they are different levels of awesome! They know how to get work done. My fear has turned to excitement for this season, and I'm really looking forward to a few years with these great people!

As soon as band camp was over, I didn't know what to do with myself! I had so much time for myself, but by this time, I had completely forgotten what to do for myself. It won't be long before my life is taken over by school work. Class starts tomorrow.

Bikes are awesome! There is no doubt my bike will become my best friend when I have but ten minutes between two classes that are fifteen minutes walking distance from each other. Winter will be interesting.

My dorm room is so hot I can't breathe. There WILL be fans in this room before the day is over.

There are a few boys I've been crushing on. I never thought it would come to the point where I had to choose only one. I feel bad in these situations...

I know what I want...but is it what's good for me?

Short blog because it's too hot to think,
Emily Page.

The Reason Why I Sing

The past two weeks have been awful. I've been stuck at home, because I got two weeks off from my nannying job. This wouldn't be so bad, but I really need that money for college. This situation really puts me at a stalemate.

My parents think I'm either depressed or have anger problems. I was forced into the doctor's office yesterday, and when I found out why I was there, I couldn't help but laugh. I AM irritable but only to an extent. The things that frustrate me are legitimate reasons to be frustrated. Any eighteen year old girl would become angry if they were exposed to the same daily obstacles that I must overcome. They aren't terrible; I just find them to be super annoying and inconvenient.

Two days ago, I was lucky enough to be able to purchase my brand new laptop without having to order it. The local computer salesman in our small town bakery was eager to sell to me a sharp looking Dell. It has a webcam and all of the programs necessary for my college adventures.

College. It's coming all too soon. I only have one month left of this summer break, but I can't say that I'm not excited for college and sweatshirt weather.

...

I've forgotten about this blog as of one month ago. I no longer have one month left until college. I move into my dorm tomorrow morning at 8 o'clock. It will be a rough day considering my lack of piccolo practice this summer. My music was printed but a few days ago, and I haven't had much time to take a look at it. I'm just looking forward to restarting my music career. It's not quite a career for me, but who knows? It very well could be.

Fear is in the air. About a month ago, I was more than ready to get out of this house and move into my dorm. Then reality hit me. This is the house that I've been living in my whole life. Everything I've ever known is here. Life will be very different without the parents that go out of their way to love me and care for me. This whole independent thing will be something I must become accustomed to.

Quite honestly, it's not the "being away" part that scares me the most. The part that scares me the most is the fact that I haven't marched a show in at least two years. I'm not sure that my brain will be able to manage a new show every single home game. I will be praying for God to help me on this one. Practice is a must.

Time is all it takes...

Roughly two weeks ago, Kayti and I accompanied Jorja to her cottage in Traverse City. The last time I was there was probably ten years ago. All I remember is that it's been a minute. We soaked up so much sun, shopped, ate, met nice people, and had an incredible time. My only question is why has it been ten years since I've been there?!

Yesterday, my bestie Mark and I went to the dollar store in town. I needed pants hangers, so I asked him to tag along on this small town adventure. The first dollar store didn't have the hangers I needed. We then made our way to the next Dollar General up the road...
For some reason, White Cloud has two dollar stores and almost nothing else.
...There were pants hangers at this store, but they were expensive. I bought them anyways. Mark and I were messing around in the toy section when we finally decided to make our way to the check out. Waiting for us there was a very creepy man who appeared to be on drugs. He turned to Mark and I and was very sure to let us know that he was "only joking." Who's to say about what? He also mentioned that he loved to dance. Mark and I laughed so hard when he left. This man with a painted imagination turns out to be a usual in this unfortunate place. Apparently Mark saw him at the gas station down the road from where we live. The situation there was also very awkward.

Tonight I have a massage, I must pack my bags, and I'd like to fit in a few tie-dyed shirts...Seems simple, but it only seems that way.

You may be wondering why this blog is titled "The Reason Why I Sing." There is no straight answer for you. All I can say is that as negative as my blogs may seem....they aren't at all. I enjoy every little thing in life, and I really have no reason to give off any negative feelings. God has been so great in my life, and I know He always will be. While blogging has cleared my mind of all stress and kept me sane, it has also opened my mind a little wider. I'm the Emily that has learned to appreciate the simplest things that jump on the road ahead. Obstacles become treasured opportunities.

Nothing more to share,
Sporting that smug little smile,
Emily Page!

Kicking anxiety in the face.

Today wasn't too terribly awful. Mr. Saxobeat played on my Spotify this evening, and that had it's own special way of cheering me up. I'm sure to the world, rather people who read any of my blogs, I seem like a sad and depressed mug. Although it looks that way, anyone who truly knows me knows that I can never be sad for a long period of time. There is too much in life to be excited about!

Right now isn't one of those exciting, happy moments, but I like to think it is. The brighter side gives me a better tan.

Speaking of tan, whilst I was mowing my lawn in my swimsuit, I caught a few rays. My feet are still pretty white, and I have a faint TOMS tan line, but the rest of me has bronzed quite nicely.

Completing ab workouts has become but a chore. I love having my summer body year round, but I suppose I've been eating way too much bacon. My six pack is gone, and my motto, "Sick pack don't hold back" rolled right to the back of my noggin only to be forgotten.
Wait a tick, it has not been forgotten...since I remember, I might as well stick to it.

My bed is calling my name, but I'm not tired. Staying awake only makes me think about the worst things can be, but going to bed will only make me dream about those things. I debated which would be worse for me. So far, staying awake would be best. Sleeping only creates a more realistic setting for my thoughts to tell their story.

Why is this worse than the first time around? Why is it possible for guys to make girls feel like this? Why can't I control when I do and don't feel like this? Why aren't our brains synced with our hearts? Why is it so difficult to find someone who fancies you just as much as you fancy them?...Why am I so stupid?

Hmm. That last question really got me. Why am I so stupid? I'm not stupid. My body only wants me to think this is worse than the first time around. Guys have no power over me. I can control what I do and who I am with which in turn will control my level of emotion. The brain sends signals to the heart, so they ARE synced, I just have to figure out what each feeling means....and last but not least, God fancies me just as much as I fancy him, and when that's the case, I don't need to worry about guys and if they fancy me. If they don't? Cool. If they do? Right on.

Blogging helps me see through the stained glass windows in life.

Sleep doesn't sound so terrible at this point.

Nothing short of an optimist,
Emily Page!

My only question is Why?

Today was full of so much anxiety. I haven't felt like this in ages. If there's one thing guys are really good at, it's making me feel extremely anxious in the worst of ways.

This morning, I decided to be a little difficult and text Mr. Perfect. I'm more than willing to bet he is already confused with the situation he's in, and I had to go and rough things up a smidgen more for him. Sometimes I find myself doing things that are completely unnecessary. This was one of those things.

A hint of anger was all it took for me to decide that I was going to show someone how I truly felt for the first time in a long time. Anger is one of the many emotions that I forget to reveal at it's golden moment. For no reason in particular, today was the day I remembered that it was okay to be angry. Words slipped out that weren't supposed to, and I rolled out sentences that made no sense and were inappropriate for the time being. Let's just settle with...I was acting a fool.

There is really no apology that will make everything better. Nothing will be the same or how I wanted. In a sense, I feel as though I messed things up, but in reality, things happen. Things that you don't really expect are the ones that you should have expected all along. I'm getting used to the situation, but I don't want to. I'm becoming okay with the fact that I won't wake up to a "Good Morning" text from Mr. Perfect, and I'm probably not going to be chilling with him anytime soon. Other guys text me, but it's not the same. The feelings aren't there, and forgetting about the feelings I have for Mr. Perfect will be a very arduous task.

Blink 182 has been playing from my Spotify all night. Although this is Mr. Perfect's favorite band, I'm not just listening to it because it reminds me of him. This music group used to be one of my favorites as well, and I forgot how much I enjoyed a good listen.

At this point I don't know what I'm going to do. Moving on is an option and I've done it many times before, but this time it feels different. It's not as easy.

Guys have already been trying to get a hold of me, and for what?
My friend from North Carolina has mentioned that he's sure a there's a line of guys waiting for me. That's not what I want to hear. I'm sure some girl would be flattered and think that's a nice compliment, but I don't want those guys...I want one, one that has already struck my fancy and without really even trying.

This, for lack of better terms, sucks.

Don't ask me how my heart is doing,
emily.page.

P.s. On a more positive note, I hope to be on my way to St. Louis at this time tomorrow.