Mood: wistful
Listening to: Third Eye Blind's "Semi-Charmed Life", Third Eye Blind (1997)
Time: 4:00 pm(ish)

Despite wearing black pants, fuzzy socks of midnight blue, a navy three-quarter sleeve tee, a charcoal-gray hoodie, and a thick and soft black scarf, I am only just now starting to warm up. Just a minute or so ago, I yanked up the blinds on the window that's adjacent to my bedroom desk, so that they hang haphazardly a little over half-way up the sash. The blinds were twisted open as well, and the afternoon sun now eagerly streams into the room, chasing away the last of my shivers from my brief excursion outside in the chilly October air of Northern Virginia. I snicker slightly at myself, rereading my outfit description. I don't sound very coordinated, I suppose. Well, I looked a little better in school today; the scarf, jacket, and socks were added upon my arrival home primarily for warmth.

I run my index finger under my right eye, realizing that the last of my recent tears have dried. Really, it was this song that did it; its nostalgic lyrics and well-remembered melody invoke within me a sometimes overwhelming sense of loss and wistfulness, despite the fact that I'm still young and in a happy relationship. When I listen to this song, it feels as if I could be looking back on my life months or even years from now, when everything's been broken and lost, mourned and replaced. …Change; it's inevitable, and I've already had to progress and adapt from what I've been in the past to become the person I am today.

Glancing outside, I see the golden tones of the autumn leaves on the trees in the section of woods across the street from my house shifting and shining in the sun. My much younger sister, having just been dropped off by the bus from first grade comes tearing up the stairs and down the hall to see me. She shouts my name gleefully and runs over to my desk to wrap her small but wiry arms around my around my waist in greeting. I ask her how her day was, and she replies with and excited description of a field trip I had forgotten she was supposed to be going on today. Her class went to a pumpkin patch where each child received their own tiny pumpkin, and then got ice-cream. Having finished telling her story, Meghan soon lets go of me and bounds out through the open doorway. A small sigh drifts past my lips as I wish my school days were so pleasant.

…

A few minutes have passed since that happened, and both my mother and sister have gone driving in the neighborhood to find a good place for my mom to take seasonal pictures of my sister. She used to take pictures of me too, but in the past few years, I've grown weary of having my outfit picked out and being to told to hold this pose exactly right for as long as the photographer (my mother) wants it. Apparently my attitude about the whole ordeal became so unenthusiastic that it was decided I was no longer worth the trouble, especially when my cute and generally good-natured little sister was more than willing to participate by herself. The significance of these pictures lies in the fact that each year around Christmas time, a "family calendar" is put together with images of us children (my sister and I), and is copied and sent off to all the relatives my parents like. To be completely honest, I never much liked the concept and decidedly prefer my cheap, $1 calendars from Michaels's craft store that have pictures of famous works of art and include the phases of the moon.

With a small moan, I stretch my arms and shoulders, realizing that I've gotten downright hot in this getup. I unwind the scarf from my neck and throw off the hoodie, remembering that I have clothes to fold when it lands in the pile of clean laundry behind me that has been on the floor since Sunday night. Really, I know what you're thinking, but I'm not usually a slob, I promise. This week has just been kind of… gah, I don't know… I guess what I mean to say is that I've been feeling rather unmotivated and lethargic. Well, I actually feel like this a lot, but the difference in past weeks is that my pants, shirts, pajamas, socks, and underwear usually make it to the appropriate hanger, shelf, or drawer. I sigh, knowing that it will eventually all get taken care of, somehow.

Somewhat dazedly, I pull my gaze back down to the computer screen, realizing that I've been blankly staring at the sun for some time now. A little glumly, I wonder where Kurtis is now, what he's doing. He said that he needed to get through a lot of homework tonight, and that we probably wouldn't get to talk much. Even though I completely understand the situation, and even though it's more than a little hypocritical of me, that tiny rejection of knowing that he would prefer I don't call him tonight still stings a little, somewhere deep down. I sigh, hoping that I'll be able to access the internet and IM on the computer downstairs at some point this evening, so that I can at least find out how things are going and say goodnight. …I sound pretty possessive and even obsessive, don't I? A dry laugh escapes my throat. It's true, I am. My only excuse is that I'm used to having some kind of conversation with him everyday after school during which I get the opportunity to find out how his day's gone and what's on his mind, as well as the chance to ramble on about things happening in my own life.

The ache of missing him makes itself clearly present now, and I raise my scarf that he wore for me today to my nose, breathing in the his soothing and familiar scent even s it rapidly fades from the fabric. I wish I had something of his to wear and keep, but as my parents have forbid me from seeing him and/or bringing his things home, it's rather impractical. My bitter distaste for my parents resurfaces intensely as I remember this. I suppose their decision was a result of a variety of factors that included everything from not approving of my taste in guys to my apathy for homework to my lack of respect for my parents and their system of strict micromanagement. They, however passed it off as general "immaturity" that they did not expect me to get past anytime in the near future. I console myself only with remembering that it wasn't so very different in the four months before this happened as well as with thoughts of getting older and having the freedom to see whomever I please in my free time regardless of what my family's wishes are. --Oh, how I look forward to college.

In the meantime, we deal with life the best we can. I try to lodge the good things that happen during these days in my memory to take with me when I finally get to leave this place. After all, just like the warmth of the afternoon sun on this particular October day, my youth will last momentarily and then just like that *snaps fingers for effect*, it'll be gone. …Or so all the old people I know say, anyways.

Well, it's rapidly approaching dinner time here, so I'll wrap things up.
I love and miss you, Kurtis.
It's been swell.
-RXW

…

(lyrics to the song I've been listening to on repeat this whole time)
"I'm packed and I'm holding
I'm smiling, she's living, she's golden
and she lives for me
She says she lives for me
Ovation
She's got her own motivation
she comes round and she goes down on me
And I make her smile
It's like a drug for you
Do ever what you want to do
Coming over you
Keep on smiling, what we go through
One stop to the rhythm that divides you
And I speak to you like the chorus to the verse
Chop another line like a coda with a curse
I come on like a freak show takes the stage
We give them the games we play, she said
I want something else
To get me through this
Semi-charmed kind of life baby, baby
I want something else
I'm not listening when you say
Good-bye
The sky it was gold, it was rose
I was taking sips of it through my nose
And I wish I could get back there
Some place back there
Smiling in the pictures you would take
Doing crystal myth
Will lift you up until you break
It won't stop
I won't come down, I keep stock
With a tick-tock rhythm and a bump for the drop
And then I bumped up
I took the hit I was given
Then I bumped again
And then I bumped again, I said
How do I get back there to
The place where I fell asleep inside you?
How do I get myself back to
The place where you said
I want something else
to get me through this
Semi-charmed kinda life baby, baby
I want something else
I'm not listening when you say
good-bye
I believe in the sand beneath my toes
The beach gives a feeling
An earthy feeling
I believe in the faith that grows
And the four right chords can make me cry
When I'm with you I feel like I could die
And that would be all right
All right
And When the plane came in
She said she was crashing
The velvet it rips
In the city we tripped
On the urge to feel alive
But now I'm struggling to survive
Those days you were wearing
That velvet dress
You're the priestess, I must confess
Those little red panties
They pass the test
So slide up around the belly
Face down on the mattress
One
Now you hold me
And we're broken
Still its all that I want to do just a little now,
Feel myself with a head made of the ground
I'm scared but I'm not coming down, no no
And I won't run for my life
She's got her jaws just locked now in smile
but nothing is all right
All right
I want something else
To get me through this
Semi charmed kind of life
I want something else
I'm not listening when you say
Good-bye…"