Yesterday

was an amazing day.

I met five brilliant, beautiful artists from around the tri-county area. Muriel and Maria were sweet, and Cynthia was adorable. Hannah was aggressive, but harmless and even friendly. Katelyn was the real intimidator, and I didn't speak a word to her. I don't think any of us did. She's the salutatorian at West Port, and an avid painter. She was dressed sharply and quirky, kept to herself, and was the first to leave.

Palooza was insane. So it sucks that 80% of the things in which I participate somehow flop. Little Lion Man could've been incredible hadn't all those things happened (such as my mic being off, the piano glitching, and the equipment crashing to the ground). It was still exciting though, from what I could hear from the gazebo (I couldn't see a thing). At least Lauren's act was cute, and mad fun. Just goes to show, the more you get into it, the better it turns out, eh?

Getting rained out was a blessing in disguise, because I can't remember the last time I had that much fun after a show. I'm not sure I ever have. Not going into much detail, but with all the equipment in the band room and everyone leaving, the boys plugged their shit back in and we all rocked out. Hard. Jonah had already set up the drum set the minute all the parts were in, Robbie grabbed his guitar, Stephen took bass and Blair hooked up the mic. We shot through Melrose Diner, Sugar We're Goin' Down, and godfuckingdamn American Idiot, and it was electric and loud and fast and exhilarating and my heart starts pumping even just a little just remembering how amazing it felt to be in that room freaking out and not giving a shit. I saw the way Robbie grinned when I lost it at the mic, and for once I felt like I belonged up there. Seeing my sisters, Tara and Kaylee, cheering me on, that made it even better. Mr. Riddle watched from his office behind the closed door.
This, I'll miss, these people, this music, those moments, alone.
"Alone" meaning the plugged in rehearsals in the band room when Riddle lets us do whatever the fuck we want.
This time, we just had an audience. But it didn't stop us from connecting.

The traditional Steak and Shake trip was well worth it (but Rachel, we missed you!)
I miss the hell out of Robert, although I have no idea how to show it. I can't believe he'll be leaving soon, and won't be back for two years at least. But it was a good night of bonding, what with how comfortable Kaylee and I are around each other, which made it less awkward for Branden and Robert, with whom at least I'm not perfectly comfortable. We spoke freely and laughed and talked about childhood, books, life.

And if I'm being honest, I'll admit, Julian was a big part of the night, albeit not being around the entire time. He set his stakes in the ground, enough to make his mark.
Maybe he will be the biggest question mark of my high school years, but I'm happy now and I don't regret a thing. I'm not looking back. I'm glad I can still trust him and talk to him, though, unlike any other boy I've so much as touched.

-----------------------------------

Daniel and I had a misunderstanding last night. Or maybe it was perfectly understood, but still a conflict?
I realize how much I can't handle aggression. I laugh about it, rage and tantrums, randomly throwing things across the room. But punching a hole in the door crosses into "violent". I didn't think much of it at first, but when he started joking about it, it set me off unexpectedly.

Anyway, the point of the story, is that: I didn't outright tell him he was wrong. It's not my place to push it, I  already told him what I thought, and he rebutted, and that was that. But he could tell something was up.
And he apologized.
And he didn't just apologize, he reiterated what (he thought) he had done wrong (and he was right).

And he said he loves me, and wouldn't let anything hinder that.

I understand, love is a heavy word. But when it comes from him....the way he always pauses before he uses it, the way his voice changes ever so slightly, like he's putting real weight into the word....it makes me want to believe him.

After all, didn't he put up with four years of me actually being myself around him, move away for 8 (going on 9) months now, and still wants to be with me?

I think I might've lucked out, he's definitely something special.