Sick.

When I was in ninth grade I decided to join the all boys wrestling team. I was motivated by my desire to avoid walking home, knowing my mother could easily pick me up after practice on her way home from work. My boyfriend at the time, another wrestler, was furious about my decision. The first couple months of the season I was constantly harrassed by the guys on the team, with the exception of my boyfriend who chose to just ignore me. Even my nicer classmates kept a distance from me during practice. One boy, though, never treated me badly. He was just focused on pushing himself and practicing his hardest. I never heard him join in on the conversations about me. We remained friendly throughout high school, sharing a few honors classes here and there. I haven't seen him in a couple years, even though we both enrolled at ASU. He was murdered walking home from the library on Sunday night.

I haven't been blogging because thinking about something like whether jeggings are here to stay has felt so ridiculous in light of all my other thoughts and feelings. Thoughts about a mother burying her 21 year-old son and all the hopes she had for his future. Feelings elicited from reading the Facebook statuses from friends, both scared and shaken. Mourning my teammate and fellow ASU student...and the safety I used to feel in my community. Worrying over the effect this tragedy has had on Noah, who was legitimately friends with him. I'm heartbroken over the fact that a wonderful person's life has been stolen. I'm heartbroken over the state of a world that's events are so horrific that this one is actually tame.