as most people know, i love mbti personality types. i’m an infj. one of the most interesting things i’ve read about my personality type is that we’re very good at “rearranging priorities.”

when i first read that i didn’t know what to think of it. i pushed it out of my mind until a few months ago, i saw another article that mentioned that infjs were talented at “redefining priorities.”

and i realized that that was what i had been doing all my life, but most especially over the past few months. it’s something i’ve recently embraced as a strength, one of the few characteristics i have that actually seem positive.

one year ago, if you asked me what the most important thing in my life was, i probably would have said writing books. now, there is no way i could say that. when people remind me that i was planning on having another two books out by now, i get uncomfortable. if they ask me if i’m writing still, i can’t breathe. because i know where i thought i’d be, and i know what i was then, and what i told people i was, but i absolutely cannot dream of being there now. of that being the most important thing in my life now.

three months ago, theatre, dancing, singing, and the addams family was the love of my life. i was living in passion and new understanding i hadn’t known before and i thought it would last forever. it didn’t. i thought i would minor in theatre in college. now that makes me feel uncomfortable. now i blush when i think of all the passion i threw into it, how much i talked about being the stage. i learned something from it, and i will always love it, and i’ll be on a stage again someday, but it is not the love of my life as i thought.

because i am constantly, mentally rearranging what’s important what’s not, sometimes i suddenly look up and realize, “oh wow, that thing that was really important to me isn’t actually that important now!” in fact, i might hate it. it makes the separation, the letting-go of things i cared about a little easier. allows me to figure out exactly what i’m doing.

things change everyday. what i love evolves, how i feel about things moves.

i’m growing used to this ever-changing thing. this moving and exploring and figuring it out. somehow i feel as if part of me has always been waiting for these months and weeks and days where i feel myself finding myself.

here i am. not the same as i was yesterday or ever. so changed constantly.

i’m living in this journey and finding that maybe this, this amazing self-discovery, is my real passion.

so i’ll keep going.

and it’ll all be okay.

what to tell you

***disclaimer: this is a long, rambly letter to a friend of mine who died from suicide. it could be potentially triggering for some people.

today i was sitting on the bus alone because the girl who usually sits with me was sick. we took the long way to the high school, so i had plenty of time to think.

it started with the guard auditions. as everyone around me knows, that’s all i’ve been talking about lately. i was thinking about how today was quite possibly the last time i’d get to spin a flag and my heart was sinking. thinking about how i wouldn’t be able to spend anymore time with your sister.

and then, as it does, my mind went to you.

your name came into my mind as it always does- it’s always there, watching, this dull something that sometimes i still forget but never really do.

i felt sick to my stomach when that horrible image of you came into my mind.

i lifted my head a little higher and thought about what i’d say to you if i had the chance to talk to you again. i felt the need to write it down, so here it is:

the first thing is that the flowers are blooming again. they came up early this year- mid-march. the wildflowers are my favorite, as always. i planted a whole garden this year, with white marigolds for you, just like last year. i’ll take a bouquet to your grave when they’ve grown.

it got hot early this year. its burning and my windows are open 24-7. i’m not as cold, in fact, i can feel the heat this year. i like standing in my room during golden hour and dancing to the radio with my windows open and the sun on my face.

i’m desperate to make guard. i don’t think i did, and if i have, i most likely can’t do it. spinning flags and improv and dance is like theatre- when i do it, my heart skips a beat and i’m happy and i know i’ve found another love of my life. my guard gals are the best. today i was doing a flag hit and i couldn’t let go of my flag i was so bad. and i almost started crying. but i still want to do it. more than they know.

things are weird right now. i get used to things, but then they get weirder. you’ll be happy to know i smile a lot more than i did right after everything happened. especially when i hold my little people. they’re the light of my life.

the stuff with my family’s getting worse. k’s being more distant, but she’s still my sister.

i miss the theatre. so much. if i could do guard and spring musical, oh, how happy i’d be!

people are still weird. things are still up in the air. i’m still working on my plan.

your family still loves you. g talks about you all the time. nothing bad. all good.

your friends still love you. i met h and she’s awesome. i can tell she misses you.

you aren’t forgotten. when i say your name, people know who you are.

your name is still going to change the world.

i could try to tell you just how much you’re loved. how beautiful you are. but i won’t even try.

the next time i go to the grave, i’ll still there and i hope i don’t cry. i hope i just smile and laugh and talk to you and maybe dance and i hope i look toward our mountains and i can remember how you smiled, how you laughed, how you loved and how, if you were here, you’d tell me to embrace everything that’s bursting in me.

to let my passion live.

my heart thrills a bit when i think that one day i’ll see you smile again and i’ll be happy. that one day, we’ll dance to a tune that’s far, far more beautiful than anything we heard on earth. that one day, you’ll embrace me and i’ll never lose you again. that one day, your laugh will ring in my ears, that laugh i’ll never forget.

that one day, all will be well.

and you’re already so free.