Life: Take 2

A couple weeks ago now, I had the opportunity to return to the motherland of Oregon to visit with my family. We celebrated my younger sister (the next in line) graduate from high school and had all around good family bonding time--even to a badminton game gone wrong when, choosing not to wear shoes whilst playing in the backyard, I stepped in a pot hole an bruised my ankle... it is still a little swollen and bruised but I blame myself for not taking the time to properly ice it every day since. Alas...
Anyway, while at home I had the chance to talk with my older brother into the wee hours of the morning... and I mean it when I say wee. By 3 AM, we finally came to this thought: why am I, Cassidy, even going to college?
Okay, okay, yes. It is a good idea to go to college and I am not saying it isn't for anyone. However, who ever said it was for EVERYone?
Quite frankly, high school was a cake walk for me. Rarely had to study and when I did seriously study it was because I loved the subject (such as my Art History class in my Senior year). However, I did as my mom always said I would--take on high school to prepare to go to college so that when the time comes, I wouldn't have too much trouble getting into the school of my choosing. How did that translate in my maturing brain? You will go to college... no matter what. 
And so I did.
Quite happily at first. Not only was I accepted in my first choice, Brigham Young University-Provo but also my second choice, Brigham Young University-Idaho. All was looking up. But, I didn't apply myself as well as I should have while applying for scholarships and ended up with barely enough scholarship to get me through my first semester and only enough for my books for the second semester. I am not entirely sure where I thought all the money was coming from to do those things I needed (and thought I needed) to do, but by the end of my second semester, I was greatly indebted to my parents. 
Thus, my plans to continue on in Provo were brought to a rather abrupt end when my coming home to attend my brother's wedding equated coming home to stay, once again, under the roof of my parents to work until I paid them off and then until I had enough in the bank to take another stab at school.
A year and a half passed, and with what I thought was a full-proof plan, I launched myself back into the Provo scene to tackle the university monster once more. Well. College was hard just as it had been that first semester when I had done average or below in most of my classes (only getting A's in my dance classes... go figure). As such, schooling slowed down to a crawl when I signed up for only a credit or two at a time suddenly realizing I had no idea what I was doing.
About 2.5 years too late, don't you think?
My passion, of course, lay in the performing arts but really how reliable is that? So, I started thinking up a different and more stable path. Teaching... music, of course. I thought that scheme up about a year ago. Nope. Still not even started. 
So, here I am. Fighting my way through being on Academic Warning and (just recently) starting to work two part time jobs and I am feeling discouraged (just as my mother had predicted I would...although it is still summertime so at least I'm not under house arrest due to snowy weather). 
The clearest way I could describe to my brother as we talked things out was this: I feel like I am banging my head against a wall trying to accomplish those things (like a college education) I thought my parents needed me to in order to feel proud of their oldest daughter.
And this brings us back to my mother's theory on high school: take the classes to prepare as if you were going to college and (these are my own words at the end) so it can be an option. 

Wow. Can I get a round of applause?

  As we continued talking, a well-known poem came to mind and though I am sure some of you have already thought of it, here it is in full.

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

"Yet knowing how way lead on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back." In all honesty, until just now, I have not really thought about that part of the poem. But I see the truth in it. Here I stand at the fork in my yellow wood and wonder, which path will I take?

So often we think that we are taking the road "less traveled by" when we are simply doing the same as everyone else.

Now, before all of you think I will do something batty and just pack a suitcase of the bare minimum and run off to Europe or Hawaii, I realize that though it is a decision of paths, it will also entail some careful thought and planning.

It becomes increasingly evident that once out of the Provo bubble, housing will be different and I may end up either living with people with very different values than myself or simply living on my own but... I do not see this as a completely bad thing. I am halfway through my 22nd year, single and completely independent. 

As for prospective cities, I have a few in mind and simply need to figure out which one would be the best fit for me (and I assure you, there will be a lot of prayer and faith involved in this process) and my focus for the next year and half (this is my projected time frame) I will be working and saving. I have already cut back the classes I will be taking in the fall (having to take at least one credit to keep my job on campus which actually pays a good deal above minimum wage so it would be a rather imbecile move to lose it) and when my next paycheck comes I will, as my brother put it, pay myself (after the usual 10% to tithing) and also try to continue living on just one paycheck so the other can by squirreled away (my own wording) for the time ahead. 

So here is the question:

Should I aim for Seattle, Portland, Denver or Buena Vista (that's in Virginia, if you were unaware)?

Hearts

Can I pose a question?

What is it that compels us to allow one another into our hearts? At the beginning of every meeting of the human spirit we are given two choices: either we are going to let someone see our hearts (even if only a piece of it) or what we show them will simply be farce. 
I know I am not the only one who has put their heart out there into the open and prayed to God it would not be trampled on. But I suppose that is one of the ways in which we grow. We build our hearts with the pieces found in these little boxes labeled with our names, given to us from God. 
Of course, as children, at first we put the least amount together possible, our hearts and desires being simple. But as time goes on, our hearts break and we have to fix them, each time growing bigger and, hopefully, more beautiful.
But why do they need to be broken?
Why can't we just assess our hearts as we grow and think, "You know? I think I could do better." Then, with that thought, we carefully take them apart, gentle as can be, rearrange and then present our "better" to the world. 
Maybe it is because we would miss the intimacy which spurs wisdom into which pieces we lay our hands upon next. 
A few days ago, I had the experience to be with the Sun. It was beautiful, bright and everything seemed so clear. But as the night fell and the Sun was setting, I felt tears in my eyes as I tried to behold its last disappearing rays. The Sun reached one of the last shining tendrils and wiped away the tear in the corner and how my heart did rise even while being cracked just a little. Bittersweet was the moment, we realized and soon the mountain obscured him and I was left to the darkness. 
Of course, as suns are apt to do, the Sun rose once more but obscured in the clouds of distance. Now, I am not one to completely turn down the shade or even a little rain cloud but my heart ached for the Sun's warmth and so I shouted to it with every fiber of my being. I didn't want one ounce of my feeling to go unnoticed but, although the Sun expressed tenderness toward me, it would not come back and in some instances felt as though it were becoming even more distant.
As the Sun began to set once more, I couldn't stifle myself any longer for fear that if I didn't let my heart be known that I should implode like a dying star, turning into something that would continuously draw light and life into it without being able to feel the warmth ever again. 
The Sun blinded me with its fierce truth and I realized then, the Sun was not mine to keep--nor should I have ever been under the impression that I could hold it to myself. 

And so, I realize I have done what I have done now countless times before. I allowed someone into my heart, gave them a measure of my intimacy and care, concern and--dare I say it-- hope, and find myself dashed against the rocks under the salty tears of an ocean. 
Now, I must open up that little box (I imagine it to be made of porcelain, a music box of sorts, that plays a melancholy but no less lovely song) that reads "Cassidy" and sift through the pieces that I have yet to find a place for in the heart I have composed--for it must needs be composed like a song rather than built like a building. 

"For my soul delighteth in the song of the heart; yea, the song of the righteous is a prayer unto me, and it shall be answered with a blessing upon their heads."

Doctrine and Covenants 25:12

So here is to those who allow those we come in contact with into our hearts, giving them the very tools with which we compose and construct our hearts so that they may break them down and give back to us that we may try again, to face our burning Suns and rest in the Moons of our time. 

To Boldly Go Where No Man Has Gone Before...

There is a video floating about the internet currently of a question and answer session given by Sir Patrick Stewart. 
This man has a tender place in my childhood and also my teenage years first having been Captain Jean Luc Picard in Star Trek episodes and movies I watched with my father and then Professor Charles Xavier in X-Men which has been a beloved story line to me since I first watched the cartoon episodes and later on the movies. 
Of course, I have respect for him as an actor and he is one of those that I aspire to be at least worthy to act alongside but with this video that has been going around, my initial respect and admiration turn to that love that one usually expresses toward the patrons of one's family (and within the Church, the prophet and apostles that we grow up listening to and receiving counsel from during General Conference every six months).
If any one reading this has not watched it yet, I would really recommend it because I know I won't do it justice in this blog response.
A young woman asks Stewart about what he feels his greatest work has been aside from acting has been but not until after she admits to having a similar childhood to his. Domestic violence is what they had in common and the young woman admitted to having watched another interview Stewart had been in where he spoke of the domestic violence directed from his father to his mother but he also expressed how he has moved past it and forgiven his father. 
This interview had helped this young woman more than Stewart might have ever known had she not attended the question and answer session and been courageous enough to share a piece of her vulnerable heart in that audience.
Stewart spoke of not one but two organizations that he is a part of in Britain. One being called Refuge which is just that, an organization where victims of domestic violence, particularly women and children, can go to safe houses where they can truly feel safe and secure for perhaps the first time in years or even their lives. He spoke of how he does this work in the name of his mother. He couldn't help her "then" but he can help her "now". So, by this point in his answer, one who had never heard of his childhood might call his father a villain, a coward. 
He continued to speak of his father who had served in France during a war in the 1940's. Upon his return he had developed "shell shock", post-traumatic stress which starting with WWII was referred to as combat stress reaction. It would seem that those with this physical or psychological injury would oft times not be able to reason and in some cases lose their self-control--in some cases resulting in domestic violence. Back in the 1940's no one knew how to treat this condition and thus soldiers with this problem were often told to buck up and be a man. 
However, now we know of ways to help reduce the effects of this condition and that leads to the second organization that Stewart is a part of: Combat Stress. This, he says, he does in the name of his father. 

How beautiful! How courageous and strong. To be able to forgive one's father and even do something to help those who have been diagnosed with the same condition. How interesting it is to see people working to break the cycle from both ends: to treat those who might start domestic violence and then to also take care of, support, and heal those who have been on the receiving end so that they can grow and continue on with life knowing that what happened to them was not right and thus help them to know that you can live a life without that violence. To be promoters of peace instead of instigators of hurt and hate.
On the other hand, how important it was for Sir Patrick Stewart to say that yes he had forgiven his father but it should not be dismissed simply because he was "ill" as some would refer to it. It is up to men, he said, to protect and guard the women. 
Our safety is most often in their hands.
As his closing thought on the subject, he mentioned hearing the doctors and ambulance operators tell his mom, "Mrs. Stewart, you must have done something to provoke him." Or in other words, the reason her husband had acted out in violence was all her fault.
Wrong.
Violence is NEVER the choice men should make. 

So in closing of my thoughts, it makes me curious. When did Stewart realize that what the paramedics were saying was wrong? There is an innate truth within each of us. That is why when people say things that we strongly agree with, it not only resonates in our minds but in our hearts and souls as well. Same with those things that we strongly disagree with. Whenever I hear something that goes against my innate truth, my very soul recoils from it and the light of truth comes forth to buoy my heart and spirit with at least the feeling of those things that are true. 
It also brings me the warm feeling of gratitude and love I have for my father and how he has treated me since I was very young. I know there are times when I have frustrated him, gone against his wishes, but not once has he abused me. And always, after scolding, there has always, always, ALWAYS been an increase of love. 
In Section 121 of the Doctrine and Covenants (a set of scripture read within the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) verse 43 reads: "Reproving betimes with sharpness...then showing forth afterwards an increase of love toward him whom thou hast reproved, lest he esteem thee to be his enemy."
I know this to be true. I am also a firm believer in the notion that hate only breeds hate and that is why there must be a leaven of love to protect those who have experienced so much hurt, hate and rejection by the forces of the world around them. 
If we can show forth love and have the strength to forgive one another and learn where our hands can lend strength and protect those in harm's way, how much of an influence for good can we be in the time to come?

Ruminations

I dare say summer is upon us. The heat is already getting higher than I am comfortable with though it has been a wonderful happenstance that the wind comes in in the evening time to cool the atmosphere enough to encourage a comfortable sleep. 
I really do appreciate my new environment and though I only get to live in it for a couple months more, I am glad of the time I have been able to have. I have already made a couple friends and although my most favorite people are moving out (curse roommates who are moving on to bigger and better things in life) I look forward to the times ahead of me. 
What is it about summer that makes one so nostalgic? As I was walking home from work tonight, I had the sudden desire to visit a few people that I have told myself it is better to say goodbye to. Was it a moment of weakness? Or was it something stronger urging me to keep those ties? I have no clue. I suppose in the coming weeks if it only becomes stronger, this impression, I will eventually go for a quick visit but it is almost like when you go home to visit after being away for a good while.
You expect some things will be the same (and few of them are) but then you realize that life goes on, whether you are there to witness it or not.
I think the biggest manifestation of this in my life right now is the growing up of my three younger siblings. The sister directly below me on the food chain is graduating from high school at the beginning of June and is working on her mission papers as far as I know. Regardless of the fact that the Church lowered the age of female missionaries from 21 to 19, isn't it still too soon?
My younger brother will have been dating for almost a full year by the end of this month and let's not even get started on the youngest sister and sibling (at the age of 15). In the back of my mind, I realize that these siblings will not always be at home in the future when I finally get opportunities to go home. One day it will probably even just me visiting my parents (and of course the grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins that happen to live thereabouts). Life is moving at a rapid rate. Another two weeks and we will have hit June. Almost halfway through 2013! In the words of Ingrid Michaelson, all we can do is keep breathing. 

Another realization I have come to is that I may have completely messed up a potential happy ending. Now now. I know that there isn't just one chance at a happy ending. I am a rather vain creature, you see. And I definitely understand what they mean when they say, you don't know what you've got til it's gone. 
Funny isn't it? How something is laid out before you that you have hoped and wished and prayed for since you realized you would be allowed to start dating at 16 and BAM! You balk and push it away because you don't think it's the right thing or you realize you are simply not ready for it. 
The Lord's timing. I wonder how many times He has witnessed my choices and thought to Himself, "What on earth are you doing?" It's a good thing His patience is infinite or I would have been burnt to a crisp by now, I'm sure of it. 
Ah well. I am glad He hasn't given up on me completely. He's just helping me through the next few months to survive so I can get back to school and finally start becoming someone who can contribute to society. 
Now that I have said this I am begging you not to "extend words of comfort". I have had it all said to me:
"You're still young!"
"It will come when you're not looking!"
"Enjoy your singlehood!"
I love you all. But for heaven's sake, I write down these feelings because it is the only way I can get them out of my system and take a deep breath to plunge into the next day. If I want your opinions or advice, I promise you that I will come to you directly and ask. This is not my way of crying out for help. I am expressing myself the best way I know how to--through writing. It is how I reason out the hectic thoughts that take up much too much space in my mind. 
And I figure there may be another girl out there of about the same age going through the same thoughts that might benefit from knowing that she is not alone in thinking, "What the heck!" about the things that she feels should work out just so in her life. 
I know it comforts me when others feel the same way about these topics and I hope that when things do happen and the man comes "when [I'm] not looking" that I will spare other single folk the words of comfort that have been given to me.
I know your saying these things are meant to expressed with the utmost love and compassion but do not worry, I know you are rooting for me even without saying such things.

Until next time! 

Winds of Change

You know that moment when you finally realize that spring has come and along with it the change in location and environment that seems to hold so much promise? Well. That happened to me. This evening. While trying to fall asleep at a decent time (first time in about a week that I have tried drifting off before midnight 30). 
This whole month I have been vaguely aware that not only was the school term coming to an end as spring began, but that I would also be moving out of the complex that has been my home for the last year and a half. The people within the complex have not changed all that much--or at least it did not seem to be so seeing as I was here to welcome them in the spring and summer. 
But at the beginning of this month, I had also told myself that I would start packing not too long after the first week... it is almost the beginning of the last full week of April (which I will be moving in the middle of) and I have yet to even by packing tape necessary to put the boxes back together that I squashed down a year and a half ago. Yes... it would seem that the month got away from me and it is about time I start packing... perhaps if I find a spare moment tomorrow I will be able to at least purchase that packing tape.
I find it kind of entertaining that all I have to do is move a block away from this complex (literally) and I will suddenly be in a new ward, surrounded by people I have probably seen on campus a time or two but never had a reason to speak with. It is a rather exciting prospect and I am looking forward to living in the nicest bit of housing I probably ever will while attending school. 
But I am also glad that I will not be moving into this new ward completely friendless--indeed, a good friend of mine (who lived in that particular ward once before) also happens to moving into it once more. Thank goodness.

Other than that, there really is not much to report about what has been going on in my life. 
Though we (the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) had General Conference a couple weekends ago so that is always exciting. I will admit that it was a great source of comfort for me to hear the talks from the General Authorities. I was truly questioning a few choices I have made as far as paths ahead of me go and I was glad to receive the peace of knowing that I made the right choices for me and that as long as I continue to strive to improve myself, then everything else will fall into place. 

I am definitely looking forward to this summer as a battery recharge. Of course I do not plan to become a recluse, but I do see myself taking a little more time to reflect about those things that I have been doing up until now, the goals I have, and such other thoughts with myself. I want to organize myself in such a way that I will be completely ready to take on this fall semester by storm. 

Now some of you may wonder if I have been going on any dates as of late and I will inform you that I have been on one recently and finally it was the guy asking me and not the other way around. It was pretty refreshing.
However before any of you jump to conclusions, I have come to recognize that it might just be that it is not my time yet and I am learning to accept that. Besides, with this mind set, it makes the settings for dates a whole lot less stressful. I am simply being myself and not beating about the bush and hiding the more energetic and prominent parts of my personality and character. 
It is funny to see how far I have come since my high school days. I am not so introverted anymore and get only more extroverted the longer I know the people around me. Why hide myself when I am not embarrassed and ashamed of my quirks?
If a person is going to be "intimidated" by who I am naturally, then there really is no reason to pursue anything beyond the bounds of friendship and sometimes even acquaintanceship. I am not going to become any calmer or any less self-expressive. I am always going to want to perform and put myself out there. And I do not see anything wrong in this.

And as a short side note: my heart goes out to those in Boston. 

Why Would I Want to Be Famous?

I was on pinterest not a few moments ago and every once in a while when I peruse the site, I will click on the Celebrities link and check out what new pictures have been posted onto this nifty little site. Not going to lie, it was pretty cool to come to the realization that Charlie Chaplin and Hellen Keller were contemporaries and even met at one point.
However, as cool as these moments of "ah ha!" are, I am finding more and more often the disappointment of seeing those celebrities that I will admit that I have idolized at one point or another having pictures posted of them in questionable attire and situations.

I guess the one that really disappointments me are the photographs that have been turning up of Miss Watson. My favorite quote by her was spread far and wide over facebook most especially in the Mormon circles it would seem:
"I find the whole concept of being ‘sexy’ embarrassing and confusing. If I do an interview with photographs people desperately want to change me – dye my hair blonder, pluck my eyebrows, give me a fringe. Then there’s the choice of clothes. I know everyone wants a picture of me in a mini-skirt. But that’s not me. I feel uncomfortable. I’d never go out in a mini-skirt. It’s nothing to do with protecting the Hermione image. I wouldn’t do that. Personally, I don’t actually think it’s even that sexy. What’s sexy about saying, ‘I’m here with my boobs out and a short skirt, have a look at everything I’ve got?’ My idea of sexy is that less is more. The less you reveal the more people can wonder."

What happened? I see more and more of her artfully placed wearing very little and even some instances where I am sure she is supposed to give the feeling of being completely bare in front of the camera. 
It just makes me wonder--how hard is it really? To say no? To skirt around the contracts that give the photographed no say in what she wears? Or for that matter, if she will wear anything at all?
It is hard to realize that someone I thought would finally give girls a great role model at least in matters of modesty and finally slipped off that path and given Them what they want--- Hermione in a mini-skirt. 
How much pressure is put on these girls that seem wholesome at the start of their careers but then start taking the same pictures as every other top cat celebrity?
I guess we will never really know what I would do if I were placed in the same situation. But this is what I would hope from me:
1. I would watch my speech so it wouldn't be misconstrued and reflect incorrect views on my personal beliefs.
2. I would refuse to be photographed in anything less than to-the-knee shorts, baby doll sleeves and appropriate neck and hemlines. If the material is sheer, I better be wearing something underneath (like slips and such, that's what they are for after all). 
3. I wouldn't partake in questionable activities and any show, movie or picture I appear in would be something that not only I would be comfortable seeing or rewatching but that my family could partake in and not feel that they lost me.
4. I would be myself. Chances are you would even catch the usual CTR ring on my finger. 
5. And lastly, although I am sure that I have already implied this, I would conduct myself in a manner that would not reflect poorly on myself, my family, or my religion. 

Now that I have laid this out for you to see, feel free to hold me to this if I ever I get famous. I have a feeling if it really is as hard as pinterest of the world wide web would have us believe to keep your standards, morals and word, I will be printing this short list and hanging it on the mirror I look into every morning to remind myself what I have promised. 
Here is to hoping there are a few celebrities that will be brought to light in the future that I can encourage my little girls to look up to because I know that they will be looking. 

Side note: I still love Miss Watson as an actress. She is incredibly talented and I hope there are a few things that I can watch from her in the future.         

Riddle Me This

I am going to start out by saying first: Happy Birthday to My Dear Ol' Dad! Who I love more than any man I know. 
Second: I love my cousins and I am so grateful that my cousin married a man who can help me puzzle out the intricacies of my interactions with boys from the male perspective without holding back, even if what he has to say might not make me feel better about the situation.

Now to move onward. 
What is friendship?
According Websters it is the state of being friendly, the quality or state of being friendly. 
So what is being a friend?
-One attached to another by affection or esteem
-One that is not hostile
-A favored companion

Some might think me silly for giving so much thought to the topic but it has been at the forefront of my mind lately and I figured it couldn't hurt to think about it a little more thoroughly. 
I was talking with a friend of mine the other day who said that he doesn't think that friendship really exists. That it is a cop out. I told him how depressing the thought was and he shrugged, saying it was simply realistic. 
As I walked away and thought more about it, I came to a few conclusions. Not necessarily saying that he was right but I can see where it might have some truth to it. Between members of the same sex, it is really quite easy to refer to someone as a friend. The level of friendship is then established by words such as "best" or "closest" and sometimes even "new" or "old". 

I think the problem with "friendship" comes when you start mixing men and women. 
We have all heard of  the "friend zone", right? When one refers to friends, it is usually in the light of affection and esteem as the above definition denotes. However, there is nothing positive or happy about the friend zone (at least for those who feel or know that they have been placed there).  For those who might not be familiar with the term, the friend zone is where a female or male puts a member of the opposite sex that they may consider a "favored companion" but don't see the relationship developing into anything closer as in the romantic sense that people speak through when they say "I got to marry my best friend". (The irony of that statement is not lost on me, by the way.) 
So the question is, how does one know they have been put in the friend zone and when it is a cop out as opposed to it being legitimate longing for friendship only? (Side note: cop out is defined as something that is done out of fear of failing.)
Unfortunately, the friend zoned person rarely gets to know the answer as to whether it is a cop out. Reason being either they never get a chance to speak to the one that put them there again or even if it was the latter reason they are so hung up on the fact that they have been placed into the friend zone that no matter what the responsible party says, they will assume that it is a cop out and thus dub the once dreamed of person to have copped out because they were too afraid to fall.
It is really unfortunate within the Mormon Young Adult culture that it seems encouraged among our peers that if you are friend zoned to just fly like a bat out of you-know-where away from them and try finding a different person with whom you could develop a romantic relationship. 
But then there is me (or people like me) who would be willing to settle for the friend zone and be good and wholesome friends with the one doing the friend zoning. However, because of the aforementioned happening, some who do the friend zoning turn their backs on people like myself and stop progressing in their friendship. 
This is probably the most disheartening thing that can happen. It is hard for me to comprehend the fact that I am good friends with my ex-boyfriend when I cannot even really cultivate a friendship with a guy I have been on one date with. 

I have had my eyes opened a little though with recent happenings in my life. I have been on dates with a couple guys and after one date it would seem that they have already made up their minds that it won't be going anywhere with me even though the date went well and we didn't suffer for topics of conversation. 
I allow myself to be all depressed about it for a day then I move on with life.
However, I am also a culprit of doing just such a thing. There have been a couple guys that I have had the opportunity to go on more than one date with but I have rejected the second date because I have already made up my mind that all I want is friendship from them. So, I guess what I am saying, if the next guy who takes me on a date wants a second and perhaps a third date, I am going to open-minded and give them those chances. Because, who knows? Maybe the first date, if it feels it went a little awkwardly, was simply because it was a first date and they were too nervous to act like themselves? 
Not saying that this will solve all the awkwardness between us, but at least they will have a chance at a second and third impression.

So here is to a new start. I am not going to totally give up on cultivating friendships with those I feel I have been friend zoned by but I am not going to wait around hoping that certain persons will suddenly "come to the light" and realize that it could possibly work and it is now up to them to take the leap and simply try. The worst that could happen is that we will find that we are better suited for friendship. I mean, really. Is that really that much of a cost at all?
When will you be ready and in a position to be in a relationship?
Relationships of convenience are not real relationships. A relationship is something two people have to work at. Compromise, discussion, maybe even a disagreement or two is a natural occurrence within a budding and growing relationship. The true test is how hard you are willing to fight to make it work when it can and learning when to let go when it could never work no matter how much the two of you try. (Two. Both. It is not a single person's fight.)

I just thought of a song by Landon Pigg. It is called the Boy Who Never:

The strongest structures ever built
Are the ones that don't get built at all
And the kind of bricks that don't get laid
Are the only kind that never fall

He taught himself how not to lose
By never really trying to win
That's how the man in front of you became
The boy who never

I'm afraid of what might happen if
Together we build a wall
'Cause the only kind of love that never gets built
Is the only kind of love that never falls

So I'll forfeit future tears of joy to save us both from pain
I could kiss you now but I'd only miss you more
When I walk away, when I walk away

I never let my heart speak through my lips
I never let my hands rest on your hips
I never said I love you but a heart never lies
I know you heard me say when I said it with my eyes

So I'll forfeit future tears of joy to save us both from pain
I could kiss you now but I'd only miss you more

He taught himself how not to lose
By never really trying to win
That's how the man in front of you became
The boy who never, boy who never

And lastly, it makes me think of the song The Dance by Garth Brooks of which I will only include a small snippet:

And now, I'm glad I didn't know
the way it all would end, the way it all would go.
Our lives are better left to chance;
I could have missed the pain,
but I'd have had to miss the dance.

Yes my life is better left to chance
I could have missed the pain but I'd have had to miss the dance

And that is the end of this particular walk through the mind of Cassidy. I hope you all have a great week!