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jennica77
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Name: Jennica Gayle
Country: United States
State: Arkansas
Birthday: 1/27/1990
Gender: Female
Interests: Jesus
Writing
Poetry
Photography
Manipulation
Making friends
Playing cupid
Movies
Lyrics
You.
Expertise: Screwing up good things?
Being manipulative.
Sarcastic remarks.
Reading people...
I should be a psychiatrist. (sp?)
Occupation: Upward Bound
Industry: Blue Light Special :winky:
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
AIM:  jickina07
MSN: jazy_jenn@hotmail.com
Yahoo:  j_e_n_n_i_c_a_2008
Member Since:
9/17/2005
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| Someone told me tonight that I have the most interesting relationships she'd even seen. And she's right. I won't bore you with each individual example, but every male relationship in my life is complicated. Unexplainable. "Interesting".
But then again, I'm complicated, unexplainable, and interesting. Nothing in my life is normal. I'm just not a "normal" type of person. I'm not sure if I like that or not. Well, I take that back. I LOVE the fact that I'm unusual and that my life is unusual. I guess what I don't like is that I have all these relationships, friendships, and everything in between that I can't explain. My feelings towards them are so strong. And I can't let go. There, I found the problem. I cannot let go. Of anyone. I hate when the relationships change, I want them to stay exactly as they were. But they never do. Everything changes.
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| As I was packing to move back home, I came across something I had hidden from myself at the beginning of the year. It was a comfort item, something I knew I shouldn't keep around, but something I couldn't get rid of. It was a memory. I stared, amazed that I had forgotten about it. Amazed that I still had it. Amazed that it had been right there, in my room, the whole year. All the times I'd needed comfort, and it was right there all along. And so the memories flooded in, swirled around, and took me back to a better time.
The first time I met him, I was 15. So young and careless, naive and melodramatic. I was dating another guy, that I'd met 2 weeks before. We were at a high school football game, and it was drizzling and cold. He was my "boyfriend's" best friend. Completely off limits, and yet all I could think was, "I want that boy." I was drawn to him in a way that I still can't explain. He was with a girl and my best friend wisely told me, "Don't go there, you're happy, he looks happy, just stick with what you have." and so I did. But that night, as I sat shivering and my boyfriend stayed warm in his jacket...this boy came up and offered me his hoodie. I didn't know him, we hadn't really spoken, but he was offering me his jacket. He was going to suffer through the cold so that I wouldn't have to. All that night I huddled up in this bright red, worn and tattered, Old Navy hoodie.
Over the next few months, this boy and I spoke only occasionally. Saw each other only when I went places with my boyfriend. He saw how my boyfriend treated me, and he told me I deserved better. Our friendship slowly grew over brief meeting and occasional phone conversations, the details of which I can't even remember. He told me one night that he often wondered whether or not he loved me. [Yes, it was most likely a line, but that didn't matter at the time]. We gave dating a try, but we were so young and so confused, and so we parted ways. I turned 16, but I was still just as young and careless, naive and melodramatic. Months and months passed, and through everything this boy was always at the back of my mind. If I ever let myself think of him, I knew I was already too wrapped up, emotionally invested, and all together infatuated to even think of letting him go. So I didn't allow myself to think of him. Until I did. And when I did, I devoted myself, unconditionally. It took almost a year of "not the right time" speeches, gallons of tears, and day after day of feeling like I was always going to be "the other girl". I had already decided that if I had to be the other girl for the rest of my life, it was better than not having him. [Pathetic, yes. But I was 16]. A solid year of not being able to get him off my mind, and finally, on his birthday, things fell in sync. He had a bonfire, with all his friends, and he stayed by my side the entire night. It was finally the right time and I wasn't the other girl. And once again, to keep me warm, he gave me that tattered old red hoodie, which I wore with pride. From that day on, I considered it my hoodie. And even now, as I'm 8 months away from being 20 years old, I still think of him daily. It has been nearly two years since we parted ways, and he's still always on the back of my mind. And as I came across that thing that I had hidden, that tattered, stained, red Old Navy hoodie, I felt that undescribable, unexplainable draw that I felt that very first day, almost 4 years ago. And I remember why I hid it from myself, and also why I couldn't get rid of it. Because I love him and I always will. Because he was my first love, and so far my only love. And that old red hoodie reminds me of better times that I never want to forget.
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| I always sit in the exact middle of the aisle at movie theaters. It's just one of my OCD tendencies. Tonight there was no exact middle. There were two rows on each side with an aisle in the direct center of the screen, so I sat in the aisle. There were only three other couples in the theater, so it wasn't a big deal. Everyone was polite and understanding. We watched The Soloist...which was good and very sad. Great acting. It will most definitely get at least one award.
When we left the theater at 12:30, after the late show, it was pouring. We stood under the awning thinking, "oh crap." Of course we'd had to park in the back forty...and could see the car way off in the distance (almost every other car had left). I wasn't looking forward to the run out there. I had taken my umbrella out of my purse to make room for the sugary gummy snacks I was sneaking in. God was making me pay. I rolled up my pant legs, I put my hood up over my head, I closed my purse up tight, I made sure my phone was secure in my pocket....and I ran. But to my surprise, as soon as the cold rain hit my face and the wind blew back my hood, I felt so free. So alive. I found myself laughing uncontrollably. I wanted to dance in the rain. (I didn't, because I have leather seats and they wouldn't have handled my sopping wet body very well, but I wanted to) Driving home, I could barely see out of my windsheild. My wiper blades were going as fast as they possibly could. The lighting was giving breif glimpses of the city around me, the thunder was making my heart beat faster. The rain was engulfing me and making rivers out of the streets. I suppose the understatement of the year would be that I like rain. Thunderstorms are God's gift to us. It's nights like tonight that I remember how powerful and awesome He is. I don't know how anyone could be afraid of thunderstorms. They make me feel alive.
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| my brother wants me to come live with him in dallas this summer. he just moved there for a job in the last two weeks. and there's two sides.
one side is that i have been really looking forward to relaxing with my father all summer. fishing, watching tv, reading all i could handle, getting involved in church and fixing my relationship with God, spending time with Marvelle and Chandler. just relaxing.
the other side is that dallas would be a good experience. possibly a growing up experience. getting a decent paying job, saving money, living in a big city, being my own person.
i think i should go. but i don't know. sometimes my brother is a little flaky, so there's no reason for me to really think this out extensively yet. but i think i should go. i just don't know.
you know what, i need to get over this. i'm way too scared. way too self-conscious. i play it safe. i don't do anything that invovles risk. and that's going to get me stuck. i'll never be able to make something of myself if i don't get over that. i should go.
but then it will be SO hard to come back to arkansas and go to college again. ugh.
decisions aren't my strong suit.
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| Seriously....what is wrong with me. I have only know him since January...and we didn't start speaking until a month or so ago. We've only had a few real conversations. But everything in me is drawn to him. When I think of him, I see myself happy. I see him as my hope for happiness. For the first time in almost two years, I can see a possibility of me being happy. Of things being okay again. Of ME being okay again. But it isn't going to happen anytime soon, if ever. His focus is on someone else. He's always telling me to practice being patient, and I will. I think that's the only hope I have of ever being able to be a part of this amazing boy's life. He inspires me to be a better person, in every way. And he has no clue. If he knew how crazy I was about him....even though I barely know him....he'd probably run the other direction. And I don't blame him, I sound crazy. Maybe I am...but I can't shake the feeling that he's special and important. And when I say I want to be a part of his life, yes I'd love to be the one he loves...but I'd settle for friendship. Conversation. Anything but acquaintance. He's just that special.
and yes...I realize how insane I sound.
and I hate myself for it...
I hope that one day (sooner than later) all of this makes sense. That these feelings make sense. Because right now I just feel crazy.
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