songs that had some sort of impact on my life:

1. After the Storm - Mumford and Sons
2. The Age of Worry - John Mayer
3. All I Want Is You - U2
4. All You Ever Wanted - The Black Keys
5. Andy, You're A Star - The Killers
6. Angel - Jack Johnson
7. Because - The Beatles
8. Blackbird - The Beatles
9. Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen
10. Bold As Love (Live) - John Mayer (this is more for the speech at the end rather than the song
    
11. Coeur d'Alene - The Head and the Heart
12. Colder Weather - Zac Brown Band (this is a rarity because I hate country music)
13. Daughters - John Mayer
14. Dead Man's Party - Oingo Boingo
15. Do I Wanna Know? - Arctic Monkeys
16. Dreaming With A Broken Heart - John Mayer
17. Edelweiss - The Sound of Music
18. Everything Will Be Alright - The Killers
19. Flightless Bird, American Mouth - Iron and Wine
20. Free Fallin' - John Mayer (Tom Petty Cover)
21. Gimme Shelter - The Rolling Stones
    
22. Girls - The 1975
23. Golden Slumbers - The Beatles
24. Here Comes the Sun - The Beatles
25. Hey Jude - The Beatles
26. Hiding tonight - Alex Turner
27. Holocene - Bon Iver
28. Home - Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros
29. Home - Jack Johnson
30. Human - The Killers
    
    
    
31. I Don't Trust Myself With Loving You - John Mayer
32. I Wanna Be Yours - Arctic Monkeys
33. In the Embers - Sleeping at Last
34. Little Fall Of Rain - Les Misérables
35. Lost in My Mind - The Head and the Heart
36. Medicine - Daughter
37. Mr. Brightside - The Killers
38. Paint It, Black - The Rolling Stones
39. Piledriver waltz - Alex Turner
40. Pride (In The Name Of Love) - U2
    
41. Riptide - Vance Joy
42. Rivers and Roads - The Head and the Heart
43. Robbers - The 1975
44. Shot At The Night - The Killers
45. Since You've Been Gone - The Outfield
46. Slow Dancing In a Burning Room - John Mayer
47. Somebody Told Me - The Killers
48. Stop This Train (Live) - John Mayer
49. El Tango De Roxanne - Moulin Rouge Soundtrack
    
50. Timshel - Mumford and Sons
51. Two Weeks - Grizzly Bear
52. When You Were Young - The Killers
53. Where The Streets Have No Name - U2

a pile of bricks

here's a brick for me.

here's a brick for you.

a brick for him, and for her.

a brick for every mile that I drive in a week.

a brick for all of the times that I would rather be at work than at home.

a brick for all of the times that I've said I'm sorry.

a brick for all of the times that I've actually meant it.

a brick for all of the times that I've lost sleep waiting up for your call,

and a brick for the times that it was actually worth it.

a brick for all of the songs on my iPod,

and a brick for all of the ones I actually listen to.

a brick for all of the bones I've broken.

a brick for all of the books I've read.

a brick for my future spouse,

and bricks for my future children.

a brick for my future adventures.

a brick for all of my travels.

a brick for the college that I'll end up going to.

a brick for this blog post, and all of the others like it.

a brick for creativity, because apparently, it doesn't exist.

a brick for my headache,

and a brick for my bad mood.

a brick for teenage angst,

and a brick for shaky hands.

bricks for pinky promises.

bricks all around for the people that think I'm weird,

so I guess another brick for myself,

but another brick for myself because I like it that way.

here's a brick for my car,

and one for my cat.

here's a brick for my dad, who decided it would be better if we parted ways, but still pretends like he is significantly a part of my life.

a brick for my mother, who is losing her sanity by the moment.

a brick for all of the alcoholic step-fathers,

and a brick for all of the high-school drop out brothers.

a brick for love,

and a brick for all that's been lost.

here's a brick to shady people, although I might throw it a little harder in their direction.

a brick for the people that found out my blog name, and decided to share it with others.

a brick for you, because the last 2 lines were for you specifically.

a brick for how many times I've seen Ferris Bueller's Day Off,

and a brick for how many times I still laugh when Cameron pretends to drown.

a brick for my bed, because it's the most stable thing in my life.

a brick for my step-sister, because she is my best friend.

a brick for the puppy that I wished for, but never got.

a brick for all of the winter heartaches.

and a brick for all of the overcast mornings that make me smile.

a brick for all of the raindrops ever.

a brick for the keys that have been lost,

and a brick for the screens that have been cracked.

a brick for the boys that break girls hearts,

and a brick for the girls who pretend they don't care.

a brick for school,

and a brick for all of the classes that I've actually attended this year.

a brick for coffee, because without it, I couldn't be writing this post.

a brick for John Mayer, because he is God.

a brick for blasphemy, because it makes me laugh,

and a brick for swearing.

a brick for caring, although it might be absent sometimes.

a brick for absentminded-ness,

and a brick for random thoughts.

a brick because this blog post might be too long,

but one more brick for not caring.

reflective thoughts.

I've been dreading this all weekend.
I really don't know what to say here, and I am surprised at myself.
Kind of like last night.

Walking around the quiet streets of Provo at 4 in the morning, and you had a bottle in your hand.
I quietly realized,
'This isn't the life I want to live.'
So I won't.

I made sure you got home safely and that everyone else was safe, including myself,
and I left.
And I won't go back.
But we can still be friends.
All of us.
We have to be.
But Jonny, you scared me. And I don't think I can ever look at you the same again after the things you said.
After the things you did.
I never thought I would say that.

And three phone calls through the middle of the night, and two more throughout the day cemented my thoughts that you really do care.
And after what my mom said oh-so-casually today, I know that I do too.
And she asked me where I was going to school today, and if you would have asked me 2 months ago, my answer would have been , "Georgia. I am going to Georgia."
But now I just don't know.
It was really unfair of you to ask me to go to school here so I can be closer to you.
Really unfair.
You ruin my life in all of the best ways imaginable.

But now my mind is a bowl of mismatched, colored marbles of all shapes and sizes, when before you it was just a color-coded, size sorted, labeled, box of Legos.
Ready to be built into my plan.
The plan that was already laid out.
We were just waiting on time.
I was waiting on time.

But now my car smells like campfire and cigarettes because I gave you a ride home,
and that was your only chance.
So.

So.



So.





So long to the Lego brick house,
and welcome to the swimming sea of uncertainty once more.

I did not miss you.

a crazy little thing

it's funny to me how the 4/5 of my existing posts are about love (if you can really call it that), but now that I actually have to write about it, nothing seems to come to mind.

but I guess that's the funny thing about love, and how it works.

you know, you'd think that I would be the expert on this topic because of the way that my head has been pounding,
and my heart has been racing,
and my knees go weak,
and my breathing quickens,
and my face flushes,
and my feet grow cold,
and my mouth ever so slightly curls up into a subtle smile,


just to know that you've walked into the room.

but no, I'm not in love. at least not for now.


but here I am. It's a Tuesday night, and I'm staring down at my phone, waiting for your call.

we haven't planned it, so I guess I shouldn't be disappointed if it doesn't happen.

but I didn't expect it last night, and I went to bed smiling.

and I've only ever felt this way about one other person, but still maybe not quite to this extent.
and it might be stupid of me to say that it was two years ago because I was a sophomore then, but Nelson, here's the answer to your previous question;


I never had a good relationship with your mom. It wasn't bad, but I guess it just wasn't there, and your dad scared the living hell out of me, but he was one of the nicest guys around.

and on those summer nights after you were gone, I would curl up into a blanket on my tramp and think of the time that it was you and me. your long curly hair shining in the starlight as I ran my fingers through it, and how you would softly hum your iTunes library in my ear.

and the first phone call you ever gave me woke me up from a nap.

that was the only time I was ever happy to be woken up, until this morning. that makes 2.

the feeling crept through me, like alcohol through the veins. warming up every inch of my figure, until I couldn't take it anymore.

but you went with someone else to prom.


and our first date was 90% laughter, with 10% of the jokes that caused it in between.
and yeah, we had a third wheel, but that made it even more memorable.
and maybe you were two years older than me, but that made me look even cooler in my friend's eyes (not that I was very cool to begin with).

but you're gone now.

two years.
two years, two years gone.

and yeah, I wonder about you a lot.

I think about shooting you a quick text "how's life?", maybe a nice phone call, or just a quick catch up date,

but what's the point in trying? two years is a long time.

but I saw your mom today, and she just smiled. because I was with the person that waiting for two years gets you.



someone else.

error in communication//

because even though that phone call lasted thirty minutes shorter that I wanted, my heartbeat is still at an unsafe tempo.

because I didn't say what I wanted to yesterday and I'm still mad at myself, and that phone call was my second chance but I didn't take it.

and yes, I've been a John Mayer fan, or more like a disciple since I can remember, but I still didn't take his advice no matter how many times I've listened to that damn song.

because of the way you dumbfounded me when you told me you didn't want to talk about it anymore.

because of the way you asked me then next day if we could.

because of the way you claim you're so mature, but I feel like you're the one that needs the lesson on how to be an adult.

because my teenage angst overpowers my well practiced maturity.

because I've never had to deal with someone like you before, and that drives me crazy. 

because you know how to piss me off.

and you're good at it too.

because that does piss me off.

because my heart stops,

and my breath quickens,

and my hands shake every time my phone goes off.

because my heart sinks when I see it isn't you.

because I'm writing this post about you when I told myself I wouldn't.

Damnit

damn your beautiful brown eyes.

damn the way you looked at me through your lashes and said I was beautiful.

damn you for calling me sweet, because I have a love/hate relationship with that, because while you might think so, most people don't think that.

 including myself.

but damn my mind for dreaming that dream last night, they all told me that this was all a game, and I couldn't help but wake up scared of this. of you. of what is supposed to happen.

and damn you, because I think I'm starting to really like you, and this wasn't supposed to happen.

but damn myself, because I'm glad it did.

damn it all.

crayons

we've traded in the crayons for car keys, girlfriends, late nights, and tears.

but in some way, we had to.

we are no longer the naive little six-year-olds hanging off monkey bars and hoping for the new Easy Bake Oven for Christmas. 

that all seems so adolescent now, but that's because it was.

it is.

something is missing from my messed up teenage mind, and maybe it is my crayons.

or maybe it's the almost stupid, but beautiful innocence that we possessed when we were that young.

a blissful bubble that consisted of Blue's Clues, animal crackers, and swing sets.

but not anymore.

somedays, I'm glad that those days are lost and behind us, 

but believe me when I say, somedays I long for those days to be back. 

you. me. paris.

I want  to go to Paris with you.

Walk the streets and look at the sights.

Hand in hand as we walk around the city, down the Le Champ de Elyseé.

And maybe we'll look like tourists for awhile, but who cares, because I'll be with you.

And maybe it will rain.

And as everyone takes shelter, we can slow dance in the middle of the street together and melt into the Parisian life, no longer a pair of dinky American tourists.

We'll speak French, but then we can whisper in English when we don't want people to know what we're saying.

Sometimes we'll pretend to be those obnoxious Americans when we want to, but not long after, you and I will realize how nice it is just to be a part of the locals.

We can live in the city, but own a small cottage in Tours for weekends when we want to be lost together. Your big brown eyes lost in mine as we sit in a field of lavender and gaze at each other as I whisper your name over and over again, like the first time when you asked how it would be said in French.

I told you then, and I'll tell you now; there isn't a translation.

But saying it with my not-so-perfect French accent made you laugh, and that was good enough for me.

We don't have to stay forever, but just long enough to make it count.

You'll probably want to go back home, and I'll go with you, because your home is mine as well.

And when we are finally done with Paris, we can move on to the next adventure, but hopefully that won't be for a long time, because I love Paris,

but not as much as I love you.