Monday, February 14, 2011

Post #302: Valentine's Day Special Edition

Special treat for readers this Valentine's Day -- a few of my old journal entries:

November 15, 2006; 6:25PM

I love

I love

I write those words and never have a name to complete the sentence with.  My 16th birthday was exactly 2 months ago.  When I blew out my candles I wished for the same thing I've always wished for.  I wish it on birthdays, on Christmas, on shooting stars, on wish bones, when I find 4-leaf clovers, and everytime I pray it's in the back of my mind.  All that I want, I mean really want, is to find love.  The kind of love you die for, and live for. 

That is what all little girls really want when they wish to be a princess.  Because doesn't love make you feel like one?  It's what teenagers like me want desperately.  It's even what middle-aged women like my mother want, having fought to keep it all her adult life.  Honestly?  There are days when I wonder why all of us try so hard.  We risk everything for what could turn out to be only a few brief moments of bliss before our hearts are broken.  But there is a reason we do it...

We observe the reality of this love, sometimes, and it reminds us of the endpoint.  It reminds us that this love is worth every bit of suffering and pain and worry and doubt and anxiety that we go through to get it.  We see that it exists, in all it's perfection, and that is enough incentive.
Fast forwarding through two years of entries about friends and parties and being green with envy that every other one of my girl friends have someone's name to doodle in their notebooks.  I remember at one point, I think it was in April of 2008, my best friend Kylie said I'd never find someone mature enough for me in our high school.  She predicted I'd end up in an affair with one of our college professors.  Oh, the sillly things we say.
July 5th, 2008

I feel like I am a completely different person from the one who began this diary.  I have faced down two of my greatest fears, and I'm okay. 

On May 30th I graduated.  I took a deep breath and strode confidently across that stage...and here I am standing on the other side, still me, but not the same girl who entered high school as the timid freshman. 

I became bold.  Machaela named the change first, and it's appropriate.  The last bit of senior year I finally let go of my inhibitions and let people see who I really am.  I finally feel like I'm living. ... I am reaching for my goals, and lately, I've been too busy living my life to write it down.

July 9, 2008; 9:47PM

...The number one thing on my mind is Kyle.  I hate that this is true.  ... I have been proud of how well I'd been doing on my own. 

I mean of course it's hard sometimes -- not having someone to call at the end of athe day; not having someone's hand to hold; always being a third or fifth wheel at the movies...but I'd been doing well.  I finally...gained a bit of self-esteem.  And then along comes Kyle.

He made me weak again, with his kindness and strength.  We he's sad my world falls apart and when he smiles I feel like everything will be okay.  I think I just might love him. 

The good news is that for once I actually took the advice I always give and never take.  I didn't shy away and hide my feelings.  ...[W]hen he finally realized how I felt, I admitted to him that he was right.  I put my heart out there.  I made myself vulnerable.  I'm proud, really.  Or stupid. One of the two.
July 29, 2008  [three days after our dating anniversary]

...Every time we're together I'm melting.  I fall apart and then reform just a little bit differently than I was before.  I'm changing from myself, the old Carrie, into another version of me:  his Carrie.  I'm suddenly aching for the type of future I didn't think I wanted or needed.  It scares me...
July 30, 2008

Kyle called me at 9:30 this morning.   We were together until 2AM last night, and he, apparently, didn't sleep at all after he left.  He's asleep on the couch now...

I'm pathetic.  I love that he's asleep here, in my house.  I love...that it feels normal.  I love that he was the one to wake me up.

I'm slipping into that place I'm afraid of.  But I'm liking it far too much, and I need to slow down.
Journal ends rather abruptly here.  My first semester of college at Eastern Kentucky University began in August.  Most of my time was absorbed by class and friends. 

I turned eighteen at midnight between September 14th and 15th, sitting outside on a sidewalk bench with Kyle.  This first semester was our only one on campus together.  It was, for me, a blissful few months.  When we went home for Christmas break, Kyle opted not to go back.  Instead he met with an Army recruiter.  At the time, I had no idea how much that one decision of his would affect my life.

In December 2008 I started this blog.  I was clueless for a while, but slowly I learned my way around the blogosphere.  When Kyle left for training my blog became my life raft.  Since then it has remained a refuge.  The rest of our story has already been laid before you in the carrotspeak archives. 

The photographic summary:


  1. Carrie,
    this is one of the most beautiful posts you've ever written in my opinion. Your journal entries have something so honest and wise about them; it makes me wish I would write more truthful things in my journal.
    Happy Valentine's Day for you and Kyle,

  2. This is so beautiful. I give you pobs for having the courage to put your journal entries out here for all of us to admire. Happy Valentine's day to a lovely couple.

  3. What a lovely love story, and so generous of you to share with us. I remember some of those early posts where you pined for the love of your life. And isn't it so amazing that your love story ended up being a happy beginning for you both. Hugs to you my little friend.


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