The Last Song Ever

"I wish my life was this song
Cause songs, they never die
I could write for years and years, never have to cry
I'd show you how I feel without saying a word
I could wrap up both our hearts, I know it sounds absurd

And I saw the tears on your face, I shot you down
And I slammed the door, but couldn't make a sound
So, please stay sweet, my dear
Don't hate me now...

I can't tell how this last song ends..."


It never ceases to amaze me how music can take you back. There are certain songs that I can hear and it brings me back to a specific memory with exact details. I can remember the smallest things, even down to smells. It blows my mind.

I was listening to this song tonight while doing the dishes. I didn't think much about it at first, but then it just took me back to the time when I played it over and over. It was last year, right around the first of February. Those were some of the worst few months of my life. It was the time I hurt the most, but it was also the time that I hurt someone else the most.

I made one of the biggest mistakes of my entire life, if not the biggest. I betrayed my best friend, perhaps one of the greatest friendships I'd ever had the privilege of partaking in. That's one of my biggest regrets, I suppose. She was one of the best friends I ever had, and I let her down. I'll never forget the night I confessed it to her. She was so overly excited to see me, not having a clue what was coming. I'll speak from experience here--being blindsided sucks more than anything else. That was exactly what I did to her. She never even saw it coming.

It about ate me alive to watch her face contort from one of pure joy to incredible pain. Her facial expression didn't even change that much--her smile faded, but that was about it--but I could see the enormous amount of confusion and hurt in her eyes. I still see it sometimes. As her eyes welled up with tears, I tried to apologize and tell her how sorry I was, but it didn't do any good. Nothing I could say would change what I had done, or help what wounds I had just inflicted. It was awful to sit there and watch it all unfold, especially knowing there was no way out of this one. It was all my fault. I had no one else to blame but myself.

She looked at me one more time, her eyes filled with pure anguish. I knew she couldn't even believe it yet. I could see the trust she had for me shatter in that one instant, then she looked away and demanded I let her out of my car. I pleaded with her to stay so I could try and explain myself, but she wouldn't listen.

"The broken glass
Your moistened skin was everything, was everything
And your broken voice was quivering...
...Scream at me, make it the best I ever heard..."

That's all I wanted from her at that point. I wanted her to scream at me. I wanted her to hit me. I wanted some sort of punishment so that I could hurt just like she was hurting. But she didn't do any of that. She simply walked away from me, crying hysterically. I made one last attempt to stop her so I could explain, but it was of no avail. I could only watch her go.

I watched her walk away from me that night. I didn't realize that she would also walk completely out of my life. She never spoke to me again, and I haven't seen her since. I have never been filled with so much regret and remorse in my entire life. I tried to punish myself for months, but I finally realized that nothing I could do to myself would change what I'd done. It wouldn't bring her back to me either.

I listened to this song almost every day. Sometimes music just says it better than I ever could. I think that's partly why I love it so much. When my words run out, music says it for me. It still amazes me though that listening to this song tonight reminded me of last year in so many details.

Sometimes there's nothing more that I want to do than change the past. I've sworn up and down that I'd do almost anything--right up to selling my soul--to change what happened, so that night would've never happened. But I can't change it. I just have to live with it. I think after a while, when I realized I couldn't change it, I accepted it and began to look for what I could learn from it. I do that often. When I'm at my wits end and there are no explanations for anything, I start looking for some way to get something out of the whole bad thing. I learned from it, that's for sure. I swore I'd never make that mistake again.

It's true that the people we hurt the most are the ones we love the most. I don't have any idea why this is so, but it is. I've challenged myself every day to love people hard, to put aside my fear and doubt and just love with all that I am. You never know when the people you love will be gone--whether you have control of it or not. Sure, loving people like I'm trying to do is risky; I'm opening myself up for rejection and hurt and everything else that makes you insecure. As much as I'd like to portray that I'm a tough guy and I put up walls and keep people at a distance...I can't do it. I care deeply about people, and I feel like I'm only limiting myself when I hold back. But what's living if you hold back all the time? I'd rather be living out what I feel for people and taking that risk than holding back my whole life. Don't the people I love deserve to know how much I care about them?

Everyone deserves to be loved. Everyone deserves to be cared about. Everyone needs to know that they're worth someone's time and effort...and I want those I love to know that they're worth my time and effort. Never again will I waste the time I have with those people. And for the girl who I hurt so badly...I'm sorry I didn't show you how much I loved you. You deserved so much more from me. I won't make that mistake again.

"So please, stay sweet, my dear
Don't hate me now..."

Putting off studying

It's approximately 2:23 AM and I'm supposed to be studying. Ok, so I WAS studying, but I'm taking a break. My brain is actually hurting. No, seriously. I just took some Advil.

I'm going to be honest here and say that this Intro to Counseling class is not what I thought it was going to be at all. I thought we'd be learning more about how to counsel and what it will be like once we're out in the field. But so far, I don't even have a clue what's going on in this class. I can't even tell you one thing I've learned so far. This may be due to the fact that I've been exhausted in almost every class I've attended and have literally been sitting on my chair for 45 minutes before I snap out of my zombie mode and realize I have not heard a single word the professor has said. That could be a reason, but it's still yet to be decided.

I think it's been harder for me because there isn't any set stuff to remember. It's a lot of reading straight out of the book, and of course, that's not going to happen. I've been required to read tons and tons of stuff since I've been in college, but I can't remember a time I actually did it. Obviously, this class is going to go just swimmingly. That said, I have a test in this counseling class in a few short hours, and I'm going to fail the thing. I can tell you that right now. It's not like trying to study the night before a test like other classes. There aren't any names, or dates, or lists, or theories, or anything else like that to briefly memorize, then regurgitate back out on paper for the test. This is going to require actual reading and actual COMPRHENSION of said reading. Thank goodness I filled my prescription for my ADD today. Too bad it's too little, too late.

It's three chapters of information. Normally, I would not be sweating this AT ALL. It's psychology for Pete's sake. It's easy. I wouldn't be majoring in it if it wasn't (that's not entirely true, but just let me rant for now). But as I have previously mentioned multiple times, it's reading. And this ain't your typical run-of-the-mill crap that you can skim and get by with. This is 80 pages of deep, intellectual thought that requires focus and comprehension, both of which I lack. Jeez, I lack those things on a good day, much less when I'm tired and barely eeking by at 2:30 in the morning. I knew I should've bought another Red Bull this morning.

And let's forget the studying for a moment. I have a take home assignment for our test tomorrow that's sitting on top of that wretched, highlighted book. I'm going to attempt to finish that first, so there's a good chance I won't even get around to studying at all. Not that it would make much difference, but I always feel slightly better if I at least get to glance over the pages. As previously stated, even a take home assignment wouldn't be that bad. Shoot, you get to use the book and everything. Piece of cake, right?

Wrong.

I've been doing the chapter discussion questions and homework at the end of these three chapters (also required for tomorrow) for the past 8 hours--legit, it's taken me that long with all of my bunny trails and mental wanderings--and my mind is so tired. I like intellectually stimulating questions, I really do. But not 15 of them. And not ones that ask me what figures from history have been inspirational to me and how they've influenced my development...or to describe a piece of research that I find meaningful and relevant to my life, and what it is about that study that I most appreciate. WHERE DO YOU EVEN START?! I had to read that freakin question three times just to figure out what in the crap it was asking me. My brain exhausts easily, apparently. Even some of the easier questions like, "Describe in detail a typical day working your ideal job" require so much thought from me. Maybe it's because I like to be thorough. I'm not even sure right now. I'm rambling. It's 2:45 in the morning. I'm allowed to not make sense.

I like answering questions where I have an opinion already established about it, or I have a previous experience that I can remember and pull into context when answering it. These questions aren't like that. They're about things that have never even crossed my little pea brain. I guess that's why I hate them so much. It's stuff I've never thought about before, so I have no previous information to go off of and I'm basically forming my own opinion from what little I know--and as I said earlier, it ain't much at all. I really need to start paying attention in class.

Oh, last little complaint about this test tomorrow...I don't even have a book for it. Ok, I have a book, but it's the previous edition (this is how Union makes all it's money...updating books every semester and charging an arm and a leg for the new one, even though the old edition is EXACTLY the same, except for pictures) and my professor told me I could use it, but to check with other classmates about the homework questions, to make sure they were the same. Isn't that the whole point of the book? If you have your own, you don't have to check with other classmates. The homework questions are the only reason I bought the book in the first place because I certainly didn't plan on reading anything out of it. Oh well. I suppose there's a first time for everything.

I don't expect sympathy at this point. It is the night before, and you can say, "Well Rachel, you had all week to study for this and do your homework and blah, blah, blah", but the truth is, I really haven't had time. I'm in class from 8 to 3 on Tuesdays, class at 8 on Wednesday then work from 10:30 until 4, class from 8 to 3 again on Thursdays but then working Thursday night from 4 until 11:30 or so, work on Friday from 4 until 12:30, same thing on Saturday, and then work on Sunday from 10:30 to 4 (or like last Sunday, 6, which sucked). I only have off on Monday and Tuesday, and when I'm not in class or working, I'm desperately trying to catch up on sleep, to no avail. So, yes, I take it back. I expect a little bit of sympathy. Not much. But c'mon...17 hours of school and 32 hours of work a week...you can spare a wee bit of sympathy. Plus, I'm anemic. That makes me more tired. So more pity!

I need sleep. But more importantly, I need to study, so I guess I should get back to it. Wish me luck, because I'm most definitely going to need it. In honor of my roommate, it looks like I may be "winging it" tomorrow. Hooray.

-Fingernail out

When homework turns into life questions

I'm having a writing fit again.

Here it is, another late night. There are so many other things I should be doing right now, like doing more of my counseling homework, or studying for my counseling test, or even perhaps attaining some of that stuff they call 'sleep' that I never can get enough of these days. But my mind is swirling with thoughts and I'm not sure I can sleep if I don't get them out of my head first. I blame the counseling homework for getting me thinking in the first place. :)

Most of my homework involves heavy thinking questions like, "Aside from helping people, what are some of your motivations for going into counseling?" .........um.....yeah, well, what if that WAS my main motivation for going into counseling? I had to think quite a bit harder since obviously that would not be a sufficient answer to the question.

Counseling is not my main focus after graduation. I'll say that first off. I want to be a firefighter, and that is what I plan on doing right after I graduate, but I'm also keeping the idea open of going to grad school to become a counselor after I'm on with the fire department. After the tornado in '08, I knew that's exactly what I wanted to do. I've always wanted to help people. I've always been the fixer type person, the one that's deeply concerned about the feelings and needs of others. I like listening to people talk and I like giving honest advice (but only when it's asked for...I like to just listen and leave it alone as well). I like helping people, plain and simple. I thought that was why I wanted to be both a firefighter and a crisis/trauma type counselor.

But as I mulled over these counseling questions, I began to look deeper at myself and my own motivations. Is helping people really why I want to do those things, or are there selfish motivations as well? And the more I thought about it, and the more honest I was with myself, the more I realized both are true. I do want to help people, but I have my own desires as well. I want to be a counselor because I want to be needed. I want to be wanted. I think that's something everyone in the whole world desires too, but I feel like that is a reason behind my career.

Firefighting is slightly different than the counseling though. Yeah, I want to help people, obviously, but I feel like there is a lot more personal stuff going into the firefighting career. I've seen the movie Ladder 49, and I know a lot of my friends have too. Most of the time, they tell me that they think of me everytime they watch it. It's a sad movie, and they ask me if I'm ever scared about doing it. I am just a little bit, but for the most part, I'm not. The way I figure it, if I die helping someone else, maybe then my life will actually be worth something. I guess that's more of my selfish motivation behind firefighting. If I help enough other people--complete strangers even--then maybe those things will make up for all the mistakes I've made in my life. That my life won't be just one big screw up, but instead something worthwhile. That's what I want more than anything else...to make sure that my life wasn't a waste, but rather something that can be looked back on by other people with respect and honor.

I want to live a meaningful life. A full life. A life that benefits others. A life that's remembered for the way I sacrificed for others, not for the mistakes I made and the way I hurt some people. I know I can't atone for my own past sins, but this seems like a good way to make up for some of it.

Who doesn't want to live a life that's worthwhile? After all, everybody dies. Not everyone really lives.


"Can you lay your life down so a stranger can live?
Can you take what you need and take less than you give?
Could you close every day without the glory and fame?
Could you hold your head high when no one knows your name?
That's how legends are made...at least that's what they say..."

Pick your battle

I've been thinking, yet again. It always seems to hit me in the wee hours of the morning like this, when I should be sleeping, but I don't know if I can sleep until I actually get it out on paper.

The thought actually crossed my mind tonight when I was at work. I was waiting on a table with two younger couples--one couple only got drinks, so they had a small bill, while the other actually ordered food. I brought them their checks, and the couple eating food needed change. The guy from the other couple though told me to hold on, so I waited, and he whipped out the receipt I had just handed him, pocketed the money, and grinned at me like he'd done something magnificently clever. I gave him the best smile I could, trying not to shoot daggers at him with my eyes, then walked off to get change for the other couple.

As I walked to the bar to get change, I thought of all the mean things I could say to him. Since it was my last table and we were about to close, I was seriously considering saying something snotty to him. However, I told myself it wasn't worth getting upset about and to just let it go. When I returned to the table with change for the food-eating couple, Mr. Clever apologized to me and told me he shouldn't have done it. At this point, all I could do was laugh. I told him it was fine and not to worry about it.

That's something I have to do every day. I have to convince myself that it's not worth getting mad, or stressed, or upset about little things. I have to pick and choose my battles all the time. Is it really worth it? The biggest thing that I've taught myself over the past few years though is to give people the benefit of the doubt. That's really hard for me, because after everything I've experienced in the past year or two, I'm not inclined to trust people in any way, shape, or form. But I make myself.

One of my favorite quotes is, "Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle." The more people I meet, the more I realize that this is so true. Sometimes people put up walls, or act like jerks, or throw themselves at you because of something deeper that's going on. Sometimes people hide behind smiles when they may actually be dying on the inside. You just never know. That's why I try so hard to be nice to everyone, even people who act like morons to me. You can't ever judge people based upon the way they act, at least not at first. Until you really get to know someone, you can't know what's going on in their lives and if something you say or do will put them over the edge.

For instance, I could've blown up at Mr. Wonderful who didn't leave me a tip. But who knows? Maybe he was having a bad day too. Maybe he's insecure and felt like blowing himself up in front of his friends by putting someone else down. Maybe he thought he'd be funny. Or maybe he really is just a jerk...but you can't make that judgment call in a five minute time span. If I had let my temper get the best of me--which it so often does--I could've made things worse for him. And if he really is an arse, then I would've just made myself look like a fool instead, because trust me, he doesn't care if the waitress is ticked off about a tip. I would just be making myself look dumb in front of other people.

All that said, just be careful how you treat people. The things you say and do--no matter how big or small--can make or break somebody's day.