Final Defeat

As though the immediate problems in my life weren't enough, there was something going on in the background. The band director that year was Mr. Landers, and he is a profound individual. He was one of those people who really made an impact on your life that you'll never forget. He put a lot of time and energy into what his job and really passed on to me the desire to teach music one day. We would spend a lot of time studying music theory after school and I could really see how much he loved to teach. Meanwhile the band (pretty much just the brass and percussion sections) were spreading rumors that we were having an affair. Suddenly, I was the sluttest girl, even though I had never had sex before in my life. I was being called "handles" whenever I wore my pigtails to practice and even though I sat in the front of the bus away from everyone, I was "performing favors" for other people. This, in combination with my kissing problem, sent me straight to the reputation of a complete slut.

Championships were in the fall every year. Keep that in mind, that's a story for the next blog, but for now I'm skipping over it, and jumping foward.

Go to May of Freshman year, and my friend Stacy is having a birthday party. She is a year older than me, so older people came to the party as well. We spent most of her birthday sitting in the jacuzzi. I was sitting next to Bryce Medicus. I knew him as that older kid who played the sax. We really hit it off and by the end of the night we were holding hands. He walked me up the hill and leaned in. We nearly kissed but were interrupted by his mom coming to pick him up. I asked him if this meant we were a couple, and he said "yea, see you Monday!"

I was so excited, I barely made it through the weekend and even had new clothes picked out for Monday. I waited patiently by the band room to meet up with Bryce first thing in the morning at school. He came up to me and said, "I'm sorry, but my ex and I starting talking over the weekend, and we got back together. I'm sorry. You know her, it's Emily, the flute player who sits next to me!" That was it. I was defeated.

Jon Again

I told you he would be back. Jon and I first connected at a school dance, the Homecoming Dance I believe. We had danced the whole night long. It was a wonderful night and was the start of what I thought would become something incredible.

Flash back to March of Freshman year, and the Sadie Hopkins dance was coming around. Naturally, this meant that I would get to ask someone to go to the dance with. I never got over Jon, even by now we had been broken up for about five months. Somewhere in my head I got the notion that if we went to the dance together we could reconnect and be together once again. One day after school we were waiting for his ride to pick up him and his older sister. Somehow we got to wrestling in the middle of the grass in the back of the school. At some point I rolled on top of him and as I gazed into his eyes, I melted and got the chance to ask. "Will you go to the dance with me next week?" "Yea, I'll go."

I tried to act cool, but I was screaming with joy on the inside.

Flash forward to the week of the dance. I found Jon in the library (he had managed to dodge me a lot lately). "Hey Jon, so I was thinking we could meet up in the front around 7." "Meet up for what?" "The dance on Friday! Remember you said we could go together." "O yea, well, I misunderstood what you were asking and I can't go to the dance."

I was stupefied. I was hurt. I was angry. I wanted to shout at him right there in the library, "What are you stupid?!" I didn't, I recoiled into my shell and slumped away from him, defeated. I went anyways, only because I had already got the tickets and my mom didn't know any of this was going on. I saw him there, with some other red headed girl, dancing away. I spent the rest of the night outside crying until I was picked up by Mom. I didn't speak to Jon the rest of the year.

And So It Goes...

So recovering from Jon was not easy...but I tried. I always tried to pick myself up, that was how I was raised. When my father left from Mom, he ultimately also left my sister and I and us girls just got ourselves up and kept going. In an attempt to get over Jon, I decided to try again.

Brandon (??) So this one was short. We mostly hung out at school, he would write me notes during class to give me after, but this one came to a screeching halt pretty quickly. He dropped the sex bomb. I responded with the No bomb. I was dumped by fourth period.

See a pattern??? Trust me its an important one to make note of. So I decided I was going to give up on "dating" since apparently holding someones hand and making out at lunch manifested into "let's have sex."

Bradley Moon At the end of the band camp every year, the band would have a fund raiser "lock in bowling night." The Brunswick would shut its doors to the public starting at 10pm and we had free reign of the place from 10pm until 7am the next morning. That year I was in the clarinet section, so I only knew half the band kids, the woodwinds; the drummers and brass players were a complete mystery for the most part. That was the night I met Bradley for the first time, officially. He was a freshman just like me, but was a trumpet player, and the cutest boy I had ever seen. We spent the night talking and laughing, alongside my new best friend Katie Heim. The three of us flirted together and towards the end of the night, Bradley was sitting on the floor with my head on one side of his lap and Katie with her head on the other side of his lap. He kept putting his face really close to mine, and making a silly kissy face at me. Stupid me thought he was sending me signals. As the night slowly ended and I knew it would be time to go soon, I gathered up the courage to ask Bradley if we could talk. I felt that I had to make a move, cause if I didn't he could make a move on Katie instead. I sat him down and told him I felt a connection, and that maybe we could become boyfriend girlfriend status. He said to me, "I'm sorry, I'm already dating Jamie Frias, she plays flute, you know her! She couldn't make it tonight, but I'm sorry if I lead you on." Then he got up and left!! Just like that. Defeated, I went home, regretting the start of freshman year.

(This was before Jon, just before, but Jon was listed fisrt since we did make it to bf/gf status).

I bounced back. By making out with everyone who would come within two feet of me. Was a good choice to make in high school? No. Did I make out with everyone? No, but it was a lot. It was the only way I could feel loved without getting hurt. For ten minutes I felt a spark, a connection with someone and I didn't have to give up anything expect a few minutes of my time and chips off my reputation block. It also was the place where I could draw boundaries. Yes I'll make out with you, No I won't have sex with you. It was a safety net.

So the Saga Begins

So there, I wrote that poem while I was still in high school. Senior year I believe. I wrote it to be published in the literary magazine alongside a few others. That was a pivotal moment in my life and it turned my direction of lost and confused teenager to somewhat responsible (or least learning to be responsible) adult. To understand the path of my decisions and the path that lead me to such a dramatic life incident, I suppose we must understand what lead me there. What life experiences drug me to that point, that at the time, was so traumatic that even now there is some vague evidence of the pain I caused.

High school for me was a traumatic experience. It was horrifying actually. Very little happened over that four year span to ever make me say, "hey, I liked school, it was pretty cool." I realize that the majority of the world didn't like high school either, so just to make myself clear...I H A T E D H I G H S C H O O L !!!! Aside from the fact that I was an awkward teenager who was considered ugly by the general population and had a style all my own that most people thought I was completely bizarre, I had personal issues that eventually sunk so deep that I almost lost myself in thoughts. Biggest problem, self esteem - attributed to the boys in my life who fucked it up.

The briefest way to go through this I suppose would be like this:
Freshman Year
Jon Mathews: We "dated" as much as two kids with no car and who live with their parents can "date." I had known him since middle school and developed a crush right before the summer going into 9th grade. Somehow we ended up as boyfriend/girlfriend. We were pretty crazy about each other. We would always write me notes about his life, and about how things at home weren't so good for him. He used to write how one day he could see himself being married to me and having kids. I know that sounds insane, but I've been looking for Mr. Right since I was 6, so I typically was a magnet for clingy people because I would cling right back. Things broke down when one day he leaned in to kiss me and I saw a hair on his lips, so I turned my cheek just a teensy bit so I wouldn't get it stuck on me. Well apparently it bothered him, so he did what all dumb boys do...consulted his even dumber friend. He and his friend wrote each other during a class they had together, by passing a note between them. Basically the conversation was along the lines of his friend's advice being that we should have sex and if I wasn't down to do so, then he should dump me and forget about me. Jon was uncomfortable asking for sex, so he asked why I turned my cheek to kiss him. Regardless of my explanation, he eventually pulled the sex card, and I basically said it wasn't going to happen. That was the end. Just like that. What did Raven learn? That Momma was right when she said all boys just want sex. But I also realized I knew how to stand up for what I wanted, even though most of my answer was generated from the fear of getting pregnant.

That was a hard one to swallow. I was crazy about him at one time, but as you'll come to know, I am always putting my heart out there, getting it stepped on, then trying again. More will come of the Jon story, cuz everyone knows that when you truly are crazy about someone, its never that easy to end it.

Its a Day That I'm Glad I Survived

A dirty secret locked inside

Crying secretly, the guilt I hide

Denying it all but to a few

It only seems to fester and stew

A piece of me died that day with her

That series of events, I wish did not occur

The Lonliest Day of my life, was that day I sat in the room

Looking at her picture, then going off to her doom

I only wanted enough strength to get up and leave

But I felt like I was tied to the chair by my sleeve

So weak in the knees, so weak in the heart

Knowing her body soon would depart

From mine

It's fine

I told my self over and over

I wanted to cry as I grew colder and colder

I subjected her to something I wasn't even sure about

In the back of my mind, to the last minute, I had doubt

I layed on that table, put my feet up

I saw them prepare the vacumm with the death cup

I gave the nurse my arm, and felt a warming sensation

Inside my heart I was fueled by frustration

I knew it was wrong, I wanted to go

My eyes are closing...oh....no

I awoke it was over, I was in a new place

I rolled over and saw a smiling face

How can you be happy in a place full of death

I felt my heart skip, I felt cold in my breath

She was gone forever, no turning back

Tossed away in a little sack

He carried me to the car, and we both were silent

We hated what we did, we couldn't deny it

Now I sit and cry

For the girl who died

And didn't deserve what she got

My heart and mind have argued and fought

I just want her home, growing up with me

Making a little family, me and my baby.

Not Too Sure What I'm Doing

So as I sit here staring at my computer screen with the blankest of all looks upon my face, I realize I'm not too sure what I am doing. Two people with two different ideas brought me here. One brought me here because this is something he does and is in the process of telling his story, and the other because it was asked that I share my story one day with him, my whole story, so that nothing can be left in the dark. I would like to think that I have quite a story to tell. I've experienced a lot for someone of only 22 years of age, I've been a few places and I've learned a lot about myself and life and what it means to become a "responsible adult." I don't know how I want to go about telling my story, and I don't know if it will make any sense, or if those reading end up hating me in the end for anything I may have done, but its still my story, and I suppose I will start with the moment that turned my life out of the direction it had been heading and into a more positive eventual outcome.