The Shortest Month

Album I listened to while writing this blog: 009 Sound System (self-titled album)

Ironically I'm writing a blog on how February has kicked me in the butt in the past few years on Valentine's Day of this year. 

I don't remember freshman year February that well. Which is probably good. I remember working on Midsummer Night's Dream. That's about it.

Sophomore year was a difficult year in general. A lot of fun, yes, but I remember talking to Mr. Brandon Replogle about all of the struggles he was going through at the time (yes, in February). The ages of 15 and 16 are not necessarily fun ones to go through, and both of us were going through some really crappy things. Crappy 15 and 16 year old things apparently. I can't really remember specifics any more, but it happened. Plus theatre that semester was insanely dramatic (surprise surprise) and I considered quitting after that play.

Junior year in February I was a stereotypical 16 year old drama queen. I wanted everything to go my way and wanted to secretly smite others in the process or something. I had to prove to everyone that I was the best and that people should listen to me. Or something. I'm not going to give specifics because I'd rather not drag all of that up again. But I secretly ran around behind a lot of people's backs and wanted to get caught up in any drama I could. For some reason, nothing that I should have deemed important at the time was important to me. I lacked in self confidence, and any attention I could get was ideal. This got better when February ended, but I still wasn't fantastic.

Senior year... of course senior year February was the worst February I have ever had and more than likely will ever have. It started out really great. Semi-formal was pretty fun. I got a part in the school play. We had a Mardi-Gras party where I somewhat learned how to do a Cajun waltz (thank you, Bryan, for putting up with my awful dancing abilities during that and during the play it was for) and I got to talk to Schwartz and friends for a while afterwards. The winter Olympics were on TV, and I never missed watching a night of it. I danced around the living room and cheered late at night the night Shaun White kicked butt at half pipe. The very next day I took a really fun government field trip to the capital. Having the words "fun" and "government" in the same sentence is an oxymoron usually for me, but this was a rare occasion. This was a great day.

Just days later, though, all of this happiness washed completely away and seemed so distant, like a dream of some sort. I got the horrible news that one of my best friends since pre-school died in a car crash, and that another friend of mine died in a different car crash. Brandon Allan Replogle and Amanda Lynn Musser. On the same day, just minutes apart from one another. I remember every event of that day like it was yesterday. The pain was so overwhelming, and my brain had numb itself just so I wouldn't go crazy. Trying to go through that week of school was hell. I wasn't required to do anything in class or even go to class. But it was horrible. The day of the viewings was like a giant kick in the gut. Seeing Amanda lying there made me cry like I've never cried before. Going to Brandon's, though, about did it in for me. The guy I had depended on for years and years was lying in a casket in front of me. I about collapsed when I saw him, I was so weak in the knees. I could barely see anything or anyone because I was crying so hard. The funerals and burials were terrible to go through, but I'm not really up to writing about those. I didn't cry as much as I thought I would, but I think I was just tired of it. It's not like I didn't feel incredible sadness or pain just because I didn't cry a whole lot. Believe me, I felt that sadness. 

Of course, I still feel that sadness. Every time I see a picture of Hugh Jackman, I laugh and think about one of the last conversations I had with Amanda about how incredibly hot he is. I look through pictures of Amanda and I and think about all of the hilarious conversations we've had, including "this conversation stays at the tech table!" conversations. Every time something happens in my life, I still want to turn to Brandon to get his opinion or just get a hug. I still turn to see if his truck is in his parking spot at our church whenever I go. He and I had a special friendship/practically siblings that can't be replaced no matter how hard I look. Because no one can possibly be another Brandon.

I wrote all of this to let you all know a little of what I've been through, and those events still affect me to this day. Of course it does, though, the year mark is just coming up. It still hurts. 

So what about this February? It's only half way through. It's Valentine's Day. So I don't really know yet. I actually had a pretty good start to Valentine's Day (haha, Fred shout out to you!) minus the fire drill we had. There's a lot of pink and flowers and candy and hearts everywhere, which kinda makes me want to gag. But I'm letting this day remind me of all the people I love and cherish. Including the ones who are chilling in Heaven having the best celebrations ever. Lauren, that includes you, dear :) (Lauren is a different story I don't want to get in to right now). 

(Back Row: Brianna Walton. Front Row: Kayla Peterson, Me, Brandon Replogle, Amanda Musser)

I miss these two like crazy. (and I'm pretty sure they'd want me to post a more flattering picture of both of them :P). But they're chilling out in a way better place waiting for us now. And I know Brandon will be standing there waiting to give me the biggest hug ever :).

However, every time I think of next week rolling around, I know it's the one year mark of the worst week in history for me, and I'm kinda dreading it. I still  have to deal with the pain and absence down here on Earth.

That's February's annual "kick Sarah in the butt" time I guess. I think I'll just start rolling around with it, expecting it, and start kicking it in the butt back. I won't let it tear me apart now. Stupid February.

(I'll pick a happier topic next time I write, but life isn't always happy. Hence the more serious/sad blog).