Pick-Me-Up

So I'm off to see my best friend in about four hours. I'm pretty stoked. My visit could not have been arranged at a more impeccable time. Why is that you say? Because I feel like I have been uber down lately and am in major need of some bestie time.

Now, nobody on the face of the planet, with the exception of Thomas, would have any idea how hard of a time I've been having lately...and well, now, anyone who's reading this now knows I haven't been okay. But I pride myself on that, on being able to paint a smile on my face and keep the hurt buried inside.

It's not being fake. I hope I don't come across that way. But I just truly believe in living every day as full as possible. I believe in making the absolute best in every moment - you never know when it's going to be your last. Which is why I smile, laugh, and pretend I'm not barely held together by a thread.

I want to enjoy life. I want to have a hoot every day. I relish in the simple pleasures of life. I want to notice how blue the sky is, how sweet the flowers smell, how soft the wind is on my cheek. I want to cherish everything. I want to laugh until I cry (which doesn't take much). I want to laugh so hard my side feels like it's about to tear. I want to be spontaneous and crazy and silly. I want to always be smiling.

But no matter how happy I am on the outside, no matter how sincere it is, my heart is always aching. Thomas is flippin' everywhere, in everything, and it is so incredibly hard to stop thinking about him. It is so hard to push him out of my head - I am never successful. When I'm walking on a gorgeous fall day, he's there. He's holding my hand, laughing with me, playing with my hair. When I'm talking with my friends, he's there. He's laughing at our jokes, throwing his sarcastic humor in the conversation. When I'm playing Halo (a recent hobby I'm picking up), he's there. He's making fun of horribly awful I am. When I'm driving in the car, he's there. He's holding my hand, kissing me at red lights, and secretly recording embarrassing videos on his phone of me dancing and singing at the top of my lungs to the radio.

Every day I hurt. Every day I miss him. Every day I can't escape him. I love it and I hate it. I love that he hasn't disappeared from my life or my memory like I was afraid he would. I love that he is still so much a part of my life and who I am. I love that I am so in love that it causes me to constantly be thinking about him. But I hate it. I hate that I can't ever escape him because it makes living without him so hard. I hate that I can't ever focus on studying or homework or in class or meetings because I'm thinking about him. I hate that every night I go to bed my heart breaks and I cry because all I want to do is call him and hear his voice and tell him about my day. I hate missing him but I love having him to miss.

And it seems like lately the pain has been extra big. I don't know why that is. Perhaps it's being back at school. So many new and exciting things are always happening and I want to tell him all about them and I can't. Perhaps it's because now that I'm back at school, I am constantly reminded how he's not here. I am surrounded by couples who get to hold hands, get to kiss, get to eat lunch and dinner, get to visit each other's rooms, get to be together, and I don't get any of that. Perhaps it's just that I've been doing this whole waiting thing for over 15 months now and I'm exhausted. Perhaps it's everything put together.

Whatever the reason, I'm glad I am going to visit my bestie this weekend. I need some girl time with my best friend. I need to get away. I need a very big pick-me-up, and nothing is a better pick-me-up than quality girl time with my Christie...well, playing with puppies just might be...