All I know is I've gotta be where my heart says I oughta be
Ben Folds tonight was absolutely phenomenal. I've never been
to a concert quite that moving. It was in Ryman Auditorium and we were on the
floor very close to the stage and I had chills pretty much the whole time. I
even cried when he sang Gracie, because his daughter and his wife had been
dancing together behind the curtain on one side, and after seeing her and then
hearing him sing about her, I just got overwhelmed all of the sudden. Plus, I
love that my middle name is Grace and I have a daddy that made up a song all
about me too. I've just never heard anything so beautiful. I was standing next
to some of the nicest guys from Belmont
and we all just got really into the music. I was in a completely different
world. I only thought to call Brooke when they played Brick, because she is the
one who introduced me to Ben Folds, so I owed her a tribute.
The Fray opened and I could've cried when they played too, so maybe I'm just too emotional, but what is life if you can't feel strongly about beautiful things and sounds and people and words? I just have no understanding of the concept of hiding feelings and ideas... Why does anyone hide? There's really not that much time, and why would you not want to tell someone every day that they're beautiful and they make your life happier every day and you wouldn't be the same without them? Beautiful things remind me of ALL that is beautiful in my life. I don’t even care how corny that sounds, because it’s so real.
Concerts have never failed to make me wish I had a boyfriend. I get this really lonely feeling and I just yearn for that something more. It still doesn't quite work if you have one but he's not with you, I found out. I thought of him the whole time though and wasn't sad, just wished he was there beside me. I want to share everything with him. I think I'll be forever petrified that I'll always be the one who cares more. I’m just one of those people who are okay with only having a few really good friends. I honestly don’t care about number; I just want people I know I can tell anything to, do anything around, and feel comfortable with. I’m not a touchy-feely person and I hate fakeness and I’m really critical of everyone, so it tends to happen that I don’t have a ton of friends. I got kind of depressed talking to Kelsey about this tonight, but I’ve basically come to terms with the fact.
I’ve been so beyond excited about coming home this Friday, but after talking today, I’m afraid that it’s just going to make me sad. It’s so hard to have three different worlds going on and not be established enough in one or separated enough from the other two that things can be okay. I just feel like nobody I’m coming home to cares enough about me to make it worth my while besides my family. People say they’re going to see me or we’ll hang out; they tell me they love me, they miss me, whatever. Out of the 14 people I wrote letters to in OCTOBER, how many people wrote me letters back? Yeah, one. Everyone bitches about keeping in touch and wanting mail, but everyone’s too fucking lazy or busy to care about anyone else, so why do I fucking care about other people? Nobody ever lives up to the standards I set. I’m perpetually dissatisfied with the way things go. Really, I’m the only one I can handle being a failure, because I know I can just work harder. You can’t make another person care more or do things the way you want them to. It just doesn’t happen. I just expect people to do things that are important to me, and more than ever, it seems like no one does.
Maybe I really am just a bitch, or maybe I’m too difficult, or I overanalyze, or I have too high of standards, or I focus on the wrong things… But I’m tired of wondering what I’m doing wrong.
The Fray opened and I could've cried when they played too, so maybe I'm just too emotional, but what is life if you can't feel strongly about beautiful things and sounds and people and words? I just have no understanding of the concept of hiding feelings and ideas... Why does anyone hide? There's really not that much time, and why would you not want to tell someone every day that they're beautiful and they make your life happier every day and you wouldn't be the same without them? Beautiful things remind me of ALL that is beautiful in my life. I don’t even care how corny that sounds, because it’s so real.
Concerts have never failed to make me wish I had a boyfriend. I get this really lonely feeling and I just yearn for that something more. It still doesn't quite work if you have one but he's not with you, I found out. I thought of him the whole time though and wasn't sad, just wished he was there beside me. I want to share everything with him. I think I'll be forever petrified that I'll always be the one who cares more. I’m just one of those people who are okay with only having a few really good friends. I honestly don’t care about number; I just want people I know I can tell anything to, do anything around, and feel comfortable with. I’m not a touchy-feely person and I hate fakeness and I’m really critical of everyone, so it tends to happen that I don’t have a ton of friends. I got kind of depressed talking to Kelsey about this tonight, but I’ve basically come to terms with the fact.
I’ve been so beyond excited about coming home this Friday, but after talking today, I’m afraid that it’s just going to make me sad. It’s so hard to have three different worlds going on and not be established enough in one or separated enough from the other two that things can be okay. I just feel like nobody I’m coming home to cares enough about me to make it worth my while besides my family. People say they’re going to see me or we’ll hang out; they tell me they love me, they miss me, whatever. Out of the 14 people I wrote letters to in OCTOBER, how many people wrote me letters back? Yeah, one. Everyone bitches about keeping in touch and wanting mail, but everyone’s too fucking lazy or busy to care about anyone else, so why do I fucking care about other people? Nobody ever lives up to the standards I set. I’m perpetually dissatisfied with the way things go. Really, I’m the only one I can handle being a failure, because I know I can just work harder. You can’t make another person care more or do things the way you want them to. It just doesn’t happen. I just expect people to do things that are important to me, and more than ever, it seems like no one does.
Maybe I really am just a bitch, or maybe I’m too difficult, or I overanalyze, or I have too high of standards, or I focus on the wrong things… But I’m tired of wondering what I’m doing wrong.