GREAT, ALWAYS GREAT!

I smile. I am good at smiling; my smile is literally worth 4 grand. So I smile. When I am down, hurting, struggling, I smile. I ALWAYS smile. People ask numerous times a day “How are you?” the answer is always “GREAT, I AM ALWAYS GREAT!” that is how people see me. GREAT. ALWAYS GREAT. Nobody is always great like seriously nobody. Not even a girl with the most perfect body in the world. The girl I wanna be. The girl who I see and go spend money on a gym pass to be like. Nobody is always great. So why do I say that? Why do people see me as the happiest girl ever? Oh right because I am. Nothing goes wrong in my life. Ever. Is that so? Well I can’t very well be honest, not even to my blog. People read this and they would see the real me. How horrible will it be for somebody to see the real me? Would my world collapse, would they love me the same for having flaws? I am not sure, so I am GREAT, ALWAYS GREAT! J Would all the people who see me out partying and dancing like nobody is watching when really all of Provo has their eyes on me, love me the same, if they saw the flaws I have? The imperfection I try so hard to overcome each day? Would they love me when I am crying in their arms instead of telling them jokes and making them laugh? Would they love me when all the big strong muscles I try so hard to acquire are weak cause I can’t think straight, because I didn’t quite measure up? When they realize I am a fake, a phony, not all I talked myself up to be. Then would they still love me?

Why is smiling easier than showing the real hurting me? Why is responding “GREAT, ALWAYS GREAT!” easier than saying “I’m actually having a hard time, can we talk?” Why is that easier?

Who really knows how to help me when I am down? I am not sure who really does. If you are the person who has experienced me in a depressed state and knows how to help me cope. Tell Kylee. She is so sweet and wants to help but I don’t know how to let her, I don’t know what to tell her to do. I don’t know how to take somebody’s help who wants to help me when I am sad. I don’t know who really gets me.

L J, he gets me. He calls me looking for Patrick’s videos. He knows how to get through a day right, watch Patrick’s videos. He is the one who suggested Patrick and I get married before his mission and honeymoon on his mission, because “Kiki, people do that!” L J, ya, he gets me. Who else.

Broomhiggins? Ya, she gets me. She realizes the important things in life. Fourthmeal, Frugos, Roadtripping to Oceanside, Facebook Videos, Love, Friendship, Soul Mateness. Ya, Broomy gets me. And I love her.

Squeaksies? She learned to get me, she used to not, to her I used to be the idiot who couldn’t do anything, except decently play basketball and make boys want me. She taught me to stand, to grow up and work a credit card. Nikka knows the little things in life that you can’t get through a day without knowing. All the things I didn’t care about. Nikka taught me to be 18. I hate being 18. I choose, 14, or 4, life was easy then.

Elyse? She got me when I was 14, when I didn’t even get myself. {WAIT, I still don’t get myself} She learned to grow up, and so I can too. She taught me the importance of being independence. She never sat me down and really taught me but she lived it and I learned from her experience. She taught me it’s okay to hurt. It’s okay to shop away your sorrows. Elyse, got me a long time ago and she gets the future me. Things I don’t get and I am scared to get.

Parentals? They try to get me, bless their hearts they try too. But the problem is, they don’t understand Gilmore Girl talk and they aren’t as pure as L J. (They are amazing, but nobody is as pure as little children) They love me, and that is always enough. They tell me I am the best, their hero, even when I feel like nothing. They tell me the truth, the reality that is painful to hear, but so true. That’s why they are difficult sometimes, because they point out the reality I am trying so hard to hide from. I love them, they made it possible for me to be out on my own and be okay.

There is one person, who is actually near and able to help who gets me. Its somebody who I would not expect to get me, but he does. I don’t think he realize he gets me but he does. My Big Brother. Is perfect, in my eyes. He is one of my hero’s. He never really has to do much or say much, but he just lets me know that he is thinking about me and that helps me so much. I love him. And I am sorry for all those who don’t have a big brother, they are God’s gift to us. That’s why we all have Christ.

I don’t know how these people get me? I don’t even get myself, so maybe they know me better than I know myself. Which is weird. I want to get myself I want to understand, I want to open up to the people who care about me, but for me it’s a hard task, I would rather spend 5 hours at the gym than do that. So I am “GREAT, ALWAYS GREAT!”