Being Alive

So I guess this post opens at the close (I've been rereading harry potter lately,) because last night, my (now) ex dumped me. (Don't worry this isn't going to be all about the break up, there's a larger point here.)

I have a lot of feelings about it, but also a larger understanding that it was for the best. We were quite literally about to head opposite directions in life, and in the end the strain would have ruined the longest and the most stable and happy relationship I've ever had. And so, she had both the brains and the balls to end it before it was ruined.

And it hurts, I'll tell you it hurts. I went to bed last night hoping I'd wake up and it was a dream. (Spoiler, unless this is a Christopher Nolan movie or an Episode of Doctor Who, it wasn't a dream) And so I woke up, and that was the reality in which I now lived. And I don't want to go into the break up, not really. She initiated it, it was a kind and peaceful break up, and I cried. I cried a lot. But it was good, I needed to, too often I bottle my emotions up and I don't let myself feel and then four years later I have to announce to my parents and the world I lost my virginity at 14 to a girl who cheated on me because it was still ruining my life. So I'm killing the hydra at its source and I'm talking about it now.

It hurt, it still hurts, 20 hours later. It will hurt tomorrow and likely for a while. I'm taking time off from dating, not because I think it's right but I'm emotionally incapable of dating right now. I'm being shitty to my friends because I feel incapable of making most decisions. I don't know what I want, I don't know what I need to ask for to ask for help. I don't know how to ask for help because I don't know what will help me.

Truthfully I want her back. But I know that won't fix things. I know that won't fix me.

I think people think I'm a lot more emotionally open than I am, but it's truthfully very hard to open up to people on an intimate level. Like and tell people how I feel. I can write this blog because no one who reads it is really going to attack me, or what have you. It's a safe space where I can express a certain level of emotional honesty without having to be intimate about it. If that makes any sense.

Anyway, part of a break up is people, (And thank you to everyone who has checked up on me, it means the world to me. I just honestly am at such a loss on what to ask for in terms of help. I don't know what I need and I don't know what to tell you.) asking how you are and how they can help. And like I just said. I don't know how to ask for help, I don't know what will help. Time, I guess. Time will help. Honestly despite all the people around me who love me, I feel very alone. Because the one girl who I wanted to be with the most, knew, and for the best, that we couldn't remain together.

And it's hard, because this was the first time, that I thought maybe, it wouldn't end. That she was who I was supposed to be with forever. And that wasn't the case. And while that's such a high school thing, it's still a thing I felt, and it was real and valid to me.

It's for the best, I know it is. I'm leaving, and I've wanted to leave my whole life and now I can, no strings attached. But what hurts most is when you wanted that string there.

I want everyone to know, that I will be okay. I know in my heart I will get past this, I just need time. I need time and to keep moving forward. And one day, I will wake up, and I will realize that I am over it, and the pain is gone. Because I'm sad, and the pain is there, but the pain is not my mood, it's just something I carry with me, I live my life continuing to do what I do every day, and I carry the hurt with me and I exist and I feel other emotions at the same time. And one day, I'll come back to ground zero, or maybe I'll find a new one. Maybe this is a reboot for me. Maybe like how in Archer they keep like "Rebooting" the series every season, that's just what's happening. I'm forced into new circumstances and I have to do what I always do and that's power through and kick ass.

It's not like last time, I'm not broken, I'm not suicidal, I'm not self destructive. I'm okay, I'm just sad, and in time I won't be sad. And until then I pray everyone has the patience to let me be sad. I don't need to be fixed. I just need people to love me and tolerate me until I'm back to the smartass we all know and love. I'll get there, just give me time.

I'm okay because I know part of love is opening yourself up completely and accepting the risk you'll be hurt. And I was hurt, but I wouldn't trade this pain for anything in the world. What I learned and what I now have, it's worth the pain. I learned, I grew, I like tea now, I can appreciate Shakespeare, I read Pride and Prejudice, I came out as bisexual. I learned to open up and surrender myself to one person. Someday, someday I will be able to do it again. All these things, they're worth the pain because in the end they made me a more interesting and better person. They made me who I am, and I'm happy with who I am. The pain will pass, this too shall pass, but me, I won't. I'm here for good.

I was told last night, this is a blessing in disguise, that this is for the best. Because this made me who I am, and while I hurt now, I get to present this new kickass Bailey to Boston, and change the whole damn world if I please.

For now, I'll keep writing, and I'll keep doing my best.

Thank you all for reading.

Thanks for being my therapist, internet.

I love you,

love,

Bailey S. Fox <3

(Now Ex, if you read this I'm sorry, I know you hate when I'd write about you, but this is how I cope and I needed this.)

Dreams like Ziggy and Legs Like a Sausage: A Examination of Self Image

On this blog I have often spoken of how I feel about myself emotionally, but I have yet to really go down the rabbit hole of my physical self image reflection. Mainly because I'm not sure anyone wants to hear another whiny white boy talk about issues that for the most part affect others more. There is way more pressure on women to look good than there is men, and I'm acknowledging that now. I do not dispute that at all, but right now I'm going to talk about my image issues, I am not a woman and therefore cannot speak for them. I can only speak for myself.

I've always admired the audacious styling of such rock stars such as David Bowie or Prince, but perhaps I feel I lack the physique, no one wants to see a 190 pound hairy kid wearing skin tight clothing. No one is fighting for me to wear less than I do already. No one wants me to wear less.

I only wear a certain type of jeans because it's the type I've decided makes my legs look the least misshapen and fat. I often adjust my sitting position to make my thighs look less large. I never look forward to swimming in mixed company because I'm afraid of what other people are going to think of how I look. I spend at least twenty minutes choosing an outfit trying to find one that I like in the morning. Clothes that perhaps yesterday I loved today make me feel frumpy and fat. I'm afraid every day people are going to find me fat and unappealing. Which is stupid, I have a girlfriend, I shouldn't care about what I look like, and yet I do. I agonize over it.

It's why I so often post pictures of myself. My vanity is a way of covering my crippling body image issues. I never dress down in public. A handful of people have ever seen me in sweatpants. I need the positive feedback on my looks to feel good looking.

My prom photos while wonderfully taken made me think I look like I've gained weight (which I probably have, I don't know) and I look awkward. There are old pictures of me more acne ridden than I am that if I saw today would probably cause me to break down crying. I'm so obsessed with how I look that it makes me late in the morning. I often go through three or four outfits until I can stand to go out. I have a long torso and shirts that fit me around often aren't long enough so if I raise my arms my hairy and chubby belly shows itself and often invokes some form of response, this response often makes me want to curl into a ball and die.

I want so badly to dress more outrageously, but there is this tightness in my chest that blossoms when I imagine people's responses. Clothes shopping with me is often an event or an ordeal as I constantly ask and crave feedback waffling back and forth on choices and I'm really probably annoying to shop with.

I once saw a video of me and the view of me from the side made me feel so bad I put in hourly reminders into my phone to fix my posture so I'd avoid looking less like an idiot. I doubt anyone cares how I look from the side but me, I'm sure no one but I care, but I am afraid that people do. And it kills me.

It feels like modern fashion is tailored for men with tiny waists and small thighs and dainty ankles. It feels like the only non mockable men on the beach are the ones who have flat stomachs. I can't dress in the trendy fashions, they don't come in my size, they don't fit my body. It's bullshit. But it's bullshit that paralyzes me with fear. So what's more ridiculous, the system or the boy who is trapped by it even if he knows it's bogus? I know people don't care that much, yet I still can't bring myself out of the shadow of my own god damn fears. It's painful as hell.

I'm not sure it will ever go away. I usually have to take my glasses off to talk to people because I'm afraid of how I look in them, even though I love them.

I'm afraid of how I look, I don't know if I'm ever going to be good enough to be an actor, I don't know if my skin will be smooth enough, my teeth white enough, my waist small enough. It's so much fear that I have, fear I don't know how to control.

Maybe I'll grow out of it. I don't know, I've had it as long as I can remember.

I didn't write this for pity, I didn't write this for compliments. I wrote this so that other people, people who struggle with this, boys, girls, everyone in between, anyone who struggles with this, knows they're not alone. And even I with all my crazy acts and stupid stories, I fear how I look. It drives me mad. Yet I persist, and so can you. I believe in you.

Thank you for reading.

I love you.

-Bailey S. Fox

Who is Bailey S. Fox; Redux

A year ago today I wrote a post aptly titled: Who is Bailey S. Fox? In preparation for this post I have not read that post. But, I feel it's time to write a new one, as it has been an action packed year.

A year ago when I wrote that post I was not yet a month into the relationship I was in at the time, I had just seen my all time favorite band, and well, I was a different person. I suppose it's redundant to say that between my 17th and 18th year on this rock orbiting the sun I have changed, change is inevitable really, but I think this is perhaps my most significant year of change.

I have often spoke of change, change in who I was, and if anything, 17 was a year of change. I had to answer for a lot of my actions. I couldn't hide behind anything anymore, I had to own up to who I was, and who I wanted to be. I spent a portion of it in the deepest depression I had ever actively known and in all honesty I encountered suicidal thoughts. It was a hard and trying time in my life, but thanks to those around me I saw my way through it.

I revealed my biggest secret to my parents and admitted that I lied to them about losing my virginity.

I had to deal with my worst break up. I had to learn to take care of myself, I found a work ethic, I wrote a script, I swallowed my pride, I started standing up for what I believe in, I came out as bisexual.

17 was a crazy year, and that wasn't even all of it.

So it begs the question: who the hell am I anymore?

And it almost seems a stupid question to ask, because the short answer is that I am Bailey Fox Olmstead, I live at 147 Horton Newfield New York, I am an 18 year old writer and actor and I plan on being those two things (As well as many other things) for the rest of my life.

I guess what I've discovered is this control over who I am and what I do, I finally feel happy with who I am on the whole, and sure I have my moments of self doubt as chronicled on this blog, but I really think that I've kind of (For the time being) gotten this whole me thing figured out.

So that raises a new question: what is the point of this blog?

I'm no longer constantly going through crisis after crisis, I've moved on from that point in my life, and I find myself trying to figure out the direction of the blog. It's been a close companion these three years, but 2016 has found a shocking absence of blog worthy events. I don't feel the need as often to sit at my desk and type "I am writer: read me roar"

I don't feel the need to constantly assert myself in the digital format. And I feel it is a time for a soft reboot of the blog, something more essay based, something sometimes less rant and more personal narrative. I'm not sure, perhaps in a month perhaps in six I will feel the need to jump back into the old flow, perhaps my life will fall to shit and I'll need to write all the time. I'm not sure, and so by no means is this the end of the blog. It's a soft reboot, you're going to see some new content on here starting soon. Perhaps some poems or short stories, I don't know. I'll figure it out.

I find myself at a different place in my life, and it's a different place than I thought I'd be at, there was a time where my role in the friend sphere was "Oh shit we had better call Bailey, he hasn't spoken to us in six hours, he's either dead or in trouble." But that's no longer the case. I'm taking care of myself and others. Now I'm the one making the texts and phone calls to see if my other friends are alright. I'm making sure everyone gets dinner and goes to bed at a reasonable hour. Most nights I'm asleep by ten. And it's weird not being the reckless one anymore. Not making people worry about me, I mean, I keep busy, working and writing, but at one point my life became less about who the next girl would be and where the next adventure would come from and more about making myself happy.

Now that's not to say that I don't go our seeking adventure at times, but if I'm in for a night, it's not the end of the world, and I'm perfectly content staying in and reading and writing.

Now this is by no means a "I'm better than you because I stay in and read while you go out and party" Because truthfully if you called me right now and invited me to a party this weekend I would love to go, I still love going out. But, if I don't go out I'm still perfectly happy. The point is that while I enjoy those situations they are not the source of joy. The joy comes from me, from my work, from my friends, from my loved ones, from my girlfriends. This is what drives me, I'm not just someone living for the weekends.

And I understand this isn't what works for everyone, and I want everyone to chase their bliss. Whatever fulfills you, do it. I'm not here how to tell anyone how to live, I'm not here to tell you that I'm better for my way, because someday I might wake up and realize that I'm wrong. Find what makes you happy, but understand that it might change, and always be willing to adapt.

I've fallen out of touch with many people, and that's alright. Because people come and go, and the people who I don't talk to as much, just know I still love you and think about you quite often. And I'd love to hear from you. And know it's okay to fall out of touch with people, we're busy and I'm shitty at texting.

I am a man made of many stories, but all my best stories have yet to be told. So I sit here, the man with heart shaped sunglasses, a happy man, and perhaps for the first time in writing this blog, I have become a fulfilled one. And I thank those around me for it. I thank the people in my life who love and support me. I thank you all for reading this. And I'd like to thank the weird assortment of various religious statues in my room for not cursing me. I'd also like to thank Harrison Ford for being dreamy. I'd like to thank my parents for making all the right mistakes to make me who I am, I'd like to thank the academy, I'd like to thank Chris Carter for creating a cool character for me to be named after, and I'd like to thank viewers like you. Chase your bliss, I love you all.

<3

-Bailey S. Fox

The Odyssey of Bailey S. Fox

Hey Guys, it's been awhile.

And truthfully it's because I haven't known what to say, not really. Truthfully I thought about ending the blog, worrying it had outlasted its use and was past it's prime. But as you'll learn with this story you'll learn my knee-jerk reaction isn't always right.

I've been incredibly busy the last month, I did a show, and then another, saw Caitlin do a show, and Now I'm in between show weekends, with two more performances to come. After this I have a brief respite of time before my next show starts.

Caitlin and I had been very busy, and as it happens we hadn't seen each other outside a theater for more than a month, and it was starting to take its toll. And things had gotten harder, and as my knee-jerk reaction is when things get emotionally harder I got prepared to do my classic move, to grow emotionally inert and distant so that way when she dumped me it wouldn't hurt as much, you know, that old chestnut. To let everything fall apart, because trying to keep things together opens me up more emotionally and then if it goes wrong I get more hurt. It's easier to be a bastard.

And so there I was in bed, 12:30 in the afternoon, my first day off in weeks and I was ready to watch it all crash and burn if need be.

By one o'clock I decided I couldn't do it.

I couldn't let it all fall apart.

I couldn't be the bastard.

Not anymore.

I gave too much of a damn.

Fantastic, so what the hell was I gonna do about it?

I Googled the time from my house to the bus station, because I could take a bus to up by Caitlin's house. I could show up, no big presents, no cheesy lines, just me. I wasn't going to hide behind some kind of show, I was going to go on my own volition on my own two legs and hope it was enough.

Google maps told me it was 7.68 miles from my house to the station.

2 hours and 38 minutes.

That was doable.

By 1:05 I was belting songs in the shower.

By 1:30 I was on the road.

I had my leather jacket that I really only wore cause it made me feel cool.

I had my heart shaped sunglasses for a very similar reason.

I had music in my ears and a giddiness in my heart that had been lacking for some time.

The moment I came up with the idea and saw the length of time I knew in my gut that it was the right thing to do, I just knew, I had no question in my mind this was the right choice. This girl was worth the walk, this relationship was worth the risk of heartbreak.

I set off calling into my house that I was leaving and the Odyssey began.

I know I had my end goal in mind but it wasn't really tangible, like I didn't know if I thought I 'd actually make it. I didn't know what to think, not really. I just knew I had to keep going forward and what happens would happen. I had all and no control at the same time. It was liberating. I was going under my own power. I had no one to answer to, Caitlin had no idea I was coming. I just went, I went for me, this was something I had to do for me, not for anyone else. I mean, yes I went to make things right with Caitlin and continue to put in the work necessary for a relationship to function, but I went for me. If any of that makes sense. This was for my own peace of mind and to better myself. I could have banked on waiting and hoping I'd see Caitlin soon enough and everything would still be alright. But I had the means and the motive and legs be damned, I went.

It was overcast, it wasn't pretty out, yet it felt perfect. I took this picture about two miles into my exodus.

There was something serene about it all, spring had not yet come yet the winds were mild and the day was pleasant enough. I couldn't overstate how ecstatic I was. After this bend in the curve pictured above it was literally just all downhill from there I just had to make it. Something like 3 miles in I grew dehydrated, it would take me until 4 miles to get to a subway where I purchased a water. Between that and the beginnings of my dehydration several people I knew stopped and asked if I wanted a ride, and while a ride would have been logical I had the desire to do it myself. I had the need to do it myself, so ignoring the queer looks they gave me as I politely refused the ride I kept on foraging ahead. While two hours and thirty eight minutes is a considerable amount of time, it never felt too long. I felt like I was going at a perfect pace, I had no stress to arrive anywhere on time. I still felt in my gut that this was the right choice.

Around 4:16 I made it to the bus station, I had made good time, only a few behind the projected arrival time. And I made it in time to catch the 4:28 bus up to the mall and on the final leg of my trip. Now this was the tricky part of my trip as I had to finesse out if Caitlin was home or not and if she wasn't when she was, so I took refuge in a strip mall about two or three miles from her house. A place I could find wifi and an outlet to charge my phone. And I found just that. I was still optimistic, and as I walked into a bakery the song "Someone to Watch Over Me" by George Gershwin was playing. Now that may seem insignificant but that song was featured in the first show we ever acted in together and it was the way we met, so I was really feeling this whole thing. I hunkered down in the back and waited to hear from Caitlin. 

After 20 minutes I heard on of her favorite songs come on the radio, and I'm not exaggerating as I went to text her this she responded. She was doing laundry, assuming she was at home I ran out and began the last leg of my journey. But she didn't know how long she was going to be doing laundry before she went off to go to the store. So fearing that I'd miss my chance if I didn't fess up, I admitted the whole thing to her. To which she told me that she was in the laundry mat in the strip mall I had just ran out of, and spent the last twenty minutes.

It's funny how impulsiveness works out. On one hand it had led me to that strip mall, on the other it had run me out. And I had to run back.

But hey, it all worked out. 

She really appreciated the effort.

It was nice to see her again.

It was worth the walk.

My phone tells me all in all I walked 8.3 miles that day, which isn't THAT much but it's still a significant amount. I walked across a town and a city to get to her, that counts for something.

My father and friends were very supportive of the escapade, saying they were proud of me for making the effort and my dad admitted he would have done the same at my age.

There was a profound sense of fulfillment I found in my adventure, having done something for me and having it go well.

Someone asked what I had learned in my adventure, and I learned that sometimes you have to make sacrifices for the people you love, but if they love you just as much it won't seem like a sacrifice. I learned that I have to do more things for me than just buy myself food. That life is better when you're an active participant and don't let the raging sea of the universe and fate throw you about. And that sometimes it's worth risking hurt because giving a damn is always more rewarding than being a miserable bastard.

Not to exaggerate but it was kinda life changing.

It was a good day.

My legs hurt like a mother though.

Thank you for reading.

I love you all.

Stay golden <3

I linked it above but if you were wondering some of the music I filled the 2 hours 38 minutes with I made a playlist, the rest of the time was filled with podcasts or even silence.

Take care of yourself, you deserve it.

And take a chance and find someone worth giving a damn about and walking 8.3 miles for,

It's the best thing in the world.

Yours,

Bailey S. Fox <3

P.S.

I forgot to mention that Caitlin's mom is in NYC and while there found Han Solo and Princess Leia M&M's and she got them for Caitlin and I respectively which is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me and really just the best show of outside faith in our relationship.

Just You Wait

Today I'm talking about Hamilton: An American Musical.

This has been one of the biggest things in my life as of late, and I feel I should tell my tale of.
I remember the first time I heard of it. I was opening Buffalo Wild Wings listening to my favorite podcast, My Brother, My Brother, and Me.

You know who else is a big MBMBaM fan?

Lin Manuel Miranda.

And he was a guest, and it came up on the podcast, I was so excited. He was so cool on the podcast, so humble and real. Human, he gave me the courage I needed to launch myself back into the world of acting and writing.

To tell you the truth I was considering quitting. My last show had been Fiddler on the Roof, and it hadn't been the best for me. I felt alienated by the cast. I screwed up a show. I felt talentless. There was this makeup girl who knew me before I knew her and she was not my biggest fan.

And had it not been for Lin Manuel Miranda's guest spot on MBMBaM I'd be in a different place right now. I wouldn't have been George Banks in Mary Poppins, or any subsequent role I had after. I wouldn't be close to any of the people I am now. I wouldn't have convinced that makeup girl that I was an alright guy.

So let's fastforward a year-ish. And Hamilton the Musical is released on Amazon. And I'll tell you, that changed my life right then and there.

Alexander Hamilton was a protagonist unlike anyone I had ever experienced.

He was flawed. He was afraid. Alexander Hamilton by way of Lin Manuel Miranda was this braggadocios man, an explosion of humanity. He wasn't some kind of invincible tower, he wasn't machoman. He was human, he felt, he cried, he loved, he feared. He was arrogant and argumentative. He was angry and heroic and brave and brash. He made mistakes and he shaped America. I suddenly found this courage within me that I didn't know lie there. 

I'm self-obsessed. I'm arrogant. I can be condescending, I can be over-reactive, I can be pretentious, long-winded, annoying, sappy, foolish, impulsive, alienating, I can be all kinds of things.
And Alexander Hamilton taught me that is okay.

That doesn't mean I can't be a hero, that doesn't mean I couldn't change the world, that doesn't mean I'm not a good man with potential to reach my dreams.

Alexander Hamilton taught me my words were something to be proud of, a tool, a weapon, a power, not some second-rate sissy ability that I had because I'm lousy at athletics.

There is this righteous passion, this conviction that Hamilton has as a character. And I don't think there is a better way to showcase this than in hip-hop. This isn't something you can just belt, this is a man who wrote more in half a life then most men wrote in a lifetime, you need the rapid-fire syncopation rhythms of hip-hop to do it. And sometimes it's traditional musical theater, but Hamilton really is something else entirely.

This might be less about the music and more about the ideas and what I learned. It's more personal than song by song, 46 songs are quite a lot to do a play by play on.
Hamilton possess this need to prove himself to everyone to the world.
"...this obnoxious, arrogant, loudmouth bother..."
I mean, that's me.

I have a lot of good ideas, and I am confident they're good ones. I'm flying by the seat of my pants. I'm making it up as I go along. I'm just doing my best and I'm here to change the whole damn world.
There are so many lessons I've learned from Hamilton.

Let's bring back the angry makeup girl who hated me.

Her ringtone is "My Shot" From Hamilton. 

Three months after I discovered this fact we'd stand in my driveway arguing over whether Aaron Burr was a good man or not. It would be one AM when this fight took place.

If you haven't picked up on this yet the angry makeup girl is Caitlin.

She argued, and the music proved that villains are a matter of perspective. Aaron Burr became "The villain in your (Hamilton's) Story"

And that changed my perspective on things a bit. Maybe the people I view as the villains in my life, as melodramatic as that sounds, are just people I have the wrong perspective on.

Reality is subjective, no one can really give you an unbiased account, we all remember our own stories in a biased point of view. And it's easy to argue that at many times Hamilton became the villain in other's stories, and perhaps I'm the villain in other's stories. You don't get to decide "Who lives, who dies, who tells you story."

There are so many times throughout Hamilton that I relate to it.

"Eliza, I don’t have a dollar to my name
An acre of land, a troop to command, a dollop of fame
All I have’s my honor, a tolerance for pain
A couple of college credits and my top-notch brain"

I'm not here to say that I'm the smartest, but I will admit and brag that I'm clever, and I work hard to gain knowledge and give myself the most information I can. I am broke as hell and I mean jack squat to the world right now. I have nothing to offer except the clothes on my back and my wits. 

But again it's that desire, that drive, that hunger for more. For fame, for notoriety, to change the world.
The hunger to make a difference, to make a wave, to matter. 

I am the speck screaming at the universe that I matter.

I have the arrogance to believe that I, Bailey Olmstead, a nobody from nowhere can change the world.

I have the arrogance to believe that I, Bailey Olmstead, will be more than I am, more than what I have, I can rise above status and situation and create something, maybe not a whole country, but I'll be damned if I go quietly into the night.

The worlds gonna know my name.

Just you wait.

There is a reason this has blown up in the way it has, because the message of the underdog is an American story, Hamilton is an American story.

I'm not the only one this musical has made feel the way it has, and that's the idea.
On July 20th I will be going to New York City to see Hamilton, and I can't wait for my life to change once more. 

I'm going to need a lot of tissues.

There is a picture online of the first time Lin Manuel Miranda performed Hamilton, all those years ago. When he said the now iconic words "My Name is Alexander Hamilton" They had to pause for laughter, it was so ridiculous to people. Sunday night they had to pause for the screaming applause.
"They will laugh, keep writing." Lin tweeted to a young aspiring writer.

That hit home.

That really did.

I've spent a lot of time as the butt end of a joke, but hey, My Name is Bailey Olmstead, I'm only 17 but my mind is older. And I think I can do this, I know I can do this. 

I'm going to change the world.

Just you wait.

Sincerely,

Not Quite 1001 American Nights

It's been 2 years, 12,000+ views, 70 posts, over 100,000 words, hundreds of bad puns, and the constant emotional support of you, my friends and audience who read these. Thank you all, now and forever. What on Earth could I write about after two years? Well, I'm here to write about the one thing, depending on who you ask, I'm either the foremost expert in, or the least qualified person to ask.

They say to be considered and expert on anything you have to be at it for 10,000 hours.

Which is why this week I'm talking about relationships.

I know what some of the older readers are going to say (Dad, I'm typing at you here.) But, I think I have as much right to talk about his as I have had every other topic, so let's get down to it.

In this blog I have written about many girlfriends, and had others through out the course of my existance, and it's weird to me to be someone who is defined by that fact. Because to me it makes up such a smaller portion of who I am, but if you've met me in the last 5 years most likely the first words out of your mouth would have been "oh, you dated Insert ex's name here." And there is legitimacy to that, I really have dated a lot of people, 17 if you go by the Trumansburg count. And that's something I'm more ashamed of that I let on a lot of the time, I'm not ashamed of the women I've dated, and I won't ever be, because regardless of the comentary and thoughts of others, at one point or another I really did have feelings for these women, healthy or not, and therefore I shouldn't be ashamed.

No one should make you feel ashamed for how you feel/felt.

And in these five years, 17 girls, and any other number of psuedo/almost/near miss relationships I've had, I've learned a lot. And that's what I'm here to talk about.

Date someone who makes you feel good about yourself.

Duh.

Right?

I feel like John Mulaney and I are the only two people who missed out on that memo, but I have date women who have made me hate myself, adn only in time and growth have I learned that. I guess since I hated myself and I thought I was a piece of shit I also assumed that the women I date were supposed to reinforce that thought. As the book Perks of Being a Wallflower  so rightfully said, we accept the love we think we deserve.

Just remember, you're better than that.

I'm better than that.

Don't date a cheater.

Duh.

Right?

Context.

But seriously, that is a concious choice, and if they made it before they're likely to make it again and while redemtion is possible, the odds certainly aren't in your favor.

Don't leave your friends for them.

If they ask you to choice them or your friends, choose your friends, your freinds aren't going to sleep with their ex boyfriend instead of seeing your concert and hearing your sweet ass solo.

Listen, you're going to be hurt in relationships, that's a given.

No one gets out of this world in one whole peice, but you can't let that screw up what you have now, I've been a closed off guy. I've walled myself up to the world and it's a miserable and lonely existance, the idea of becoming a jaded old man is really tempting, but you know what, if you ask me, I'd rather wear my heart on my sleeve than ever building more walls.

There are a lot of reasons to be with a person and marry them and everything.


I know that I am infact, not married and will not be for several years, that does not mean I haven't learned something about it.

There are a lot of reasons to spend the rest of your life with someone, but make sure for the love of god, make sure it isn't something that is going to change, because if that's the foundation and it crumbles, then it all goes to shit.

I throw myself into relationships, and sometimes, most of the time it's not to my advantage, but I also know that it's a lot harder to undo the walls than it is to repair the damage left by not having them in the first place. Over the years I constructed a me that wasn't me, and that's a werid thing to think about. And I sti here before you all and the me-est me I have ever been. I've left behind the fear, I've left behind the arrogance and the anger. I've left behind a lot, and I've lost a lot but I've gained so much that I'd give it up all over again to keep what I have.

It's okay to leave too through.

The only thing worse than a failed relationship is staying around too long. As most of you know I have lost myself many a time trying to save people who don't want to be saved. It's okay to leave. Please, especially if it's for your own good. No matter the residual guilt, it's alright to leave, this is the hardest lesson I've had to learn.

I've been with people because I was lonely, I've been with people because I was impulsive, I've been with people because I was horny, I know I'm hippocritical here, but I also have learned from my mistakes. I know it's easy to look at me and only see a serial dater, but I stand here, adn I will attest to the death that I cared about these people, every last one of them. And while I have had relationships notorious throughout the county I do not regret them because they have made me into who I am today, and I think I'm a good guy.

The girl I'm with, Caitlin (Hi cait!)

She's spectacular, and she's the whole world to me. And I  have to remember the lessons I've learned with her. Specifically not to be a pretentious dick. Relationships are a lot of work, and I've been doing my best not to let this one crumble into disrepair. And I think I've done a really good job, I think it's going really well. I know it is. It's the best I've ever known.

I think being in love is offering to give up everything you have to be with the person but being safe in knowing that you won't have to. I have that.

I also know that I am me with or without whatever S/O I have.

And it's hard, as someone with 16 exes who just came out as bisexual, because a lot of people (mom) have called me out and questioned me, because like, I've dated so many girls how on Earth can anyone be expected to believe I'm also attracted to men?

On the other had I fear that my guy friends think I'm hitting on them when I'm just trying to be nice, regardless of what genitalia I am into I'm a really nice guy.

I also think the most important thing I've gained is female friends that I don't want to date or sleep with or anything. Female friends who are jsut friends, like every other friend I have, and I think it's dumb that people say you can't have friends of the gender you are attracted to.

It's dumb.

Society is dumb.

The virginity construct is a dumb idea, but until as a society we all let it go, then we will never be free of the irreparable damage it can cause.

Look at this kid, that's me four years ago Monday, he is two weeks away from losing his virginity and changing his life forever. That kid is someone totally different from who I am now and it's insane to me to think that we're the same person.

Listen kid, keep your head up, you'll figure it out someday. Until then, keep writing. 

And listen a lot of you might have gone through something similar, some of you might not want relationships, and I get that. All of you are perfect, no matter what you prefer.

I'm still learning and I'm still making mistakes. But hey, I think there is something special about this one.

I love her, I really do. I think I got it right this time, I really do.

Thank you for two successful years, when I stared this I couldn't imagine this level of love, success, or readership, thank you all. You're all wonderful people!

Also happy Valentines Day!

See you next week!

Godspeed.

I love you all.

<3

Sincerely, 

Bailey S. Fox

In the End

I'm really bad at being weekly, I'm sorry, I'll be better.

I have a feeling this one is going to get more poetic and maybe even borderline pretentious at points but that's just how I'm dealing with the topic, ya feel?

Anyway, when I was younger, when I was trying to sleep sometimes, a lot of times I'd lie in bed and start crying, because I realized everyone I know is going to die, a lot of them likely within my lifetime. And that's some heavy shit to think about, especially at 9 years old.

Endings have always been complex for me.

As I writer I have have struggled with them at times, as the plot occasionally just get's away from me and I struggle with bringing it back to center. This was more often a problem when I was younger and writing creative pieces for school. I'm better now, at least I hope.

Even endings for a TV show, I can put off finishing for weeks or years (Sorry, Jeffrey Ill finish it I swear) I crave resolution but I fear it at the same time. Like what do you do in the end? That's what we've been asking ourselves for millennium, isn't it?

That's why we make medicines to live longer and bigger guns to make the people that scare us live less.

I've always had a weird fascination with death. You can see it in my writing and my story ideas. Death is one of my three principal fears. (Spiders, death, and needles) Even old stories I wrote had to do with cheating death, or dying and coming back, or even the fountain of youth. Like, for such a happy go lucky kid I think about death a lot. I think about it crossing the road and just in my day to day. And not in a morose suicidal way, just in a way where I'm so afraid and yet so fascinated at the same time.

I've known all my previous relationships would end. I've imagined how and when my friendships will end. It's hard. It's not just dying it's ending.

I've struggled with my ending here at Newfield. In six months I'm done, I take my final bow and the curtain closes, and they've all said I'm destined to move on to grander stages than this little town, but the world is full of stories of failed prodigies and they all haunt me. The promise of glory and bettering the world and being able to go out and tell my stories but so many sparks so much brighter than I have been snuffed out by the world, and what is to say that I'm exempt from the tragedy? The ghosts of failure haunts me, and yet I still so badly to join the ranks of the heroes. I want to succeed. I'm safe here, I can't fail here. But what if I'm not good enough in the real world. What if my lack of success here isn't because I'm destined for greater, and what if it's just simply because I'm not good enough? And yet despite my fears in six months I'm going to gamble hundreds of thousands of dollars and bank on the fact that I think I am good enough. And the only thing I fear more than failure is a miserable life of unfulfilled dreams.

My passion fuels me so fiercely.

I'm working myself to the bone and yet I don't feel weariness. I always want to do more, I'm always willing to do more, I want to do as much as I can.

Maybe I'm not the chosen one but I can be the one who tries enough shit out that maybe he'll make it anyway.

I'm obsessed with and terrified by my own story.

This blog has been my story. This blog is and will continue to be my story.

But parts of my story scare me. The parts where I fall apart and all I wish is for nothingness, the parts where I'm the villain in my own story. The parts where I lose, the parts where I'm hurtful and cruel and all kinds of horrible things.

I am more confident than ever that I'm a good man, but that doesn't mean I always was, and that doesn't mean I always will be. I'm afraid that I'm going to grow cocky or that people will think I am and they won't see the work I'm putting in and they'll think that I'm lazy and they will think that I'm not on board. I'm afraid to become the bad guy again.

I wan't to be the hero, I want to rise above and save the day.

I'm going to talk about Hamilton.

It's always going to come to Hamilton.

I really feel Hamilton, like Alexander Hamilton. The feeling of being disadvantaged, of being at odd with the world. Of this righteous passion just to do something. To stand up and fight, to write my way out of anything and through anything. I write all the time, I need to write more. I want to write more. I'm going to write more.

Where I differ from Hamilton is that I've always been too afraid to stand up to people. To defend myself and those I love and what I believe in and it's time to stop.

I need to stand up for myself and what I believe in and those I love more. I've spent so much of my life afraid of not being accepted I have become complacent at times and weak spined. I need to buck up and stand up, it's time to stop being afraid. It's time to be brave, not just physically but emotionally.

And I guess this is what it all boils down to, isn't it?

I've spent so much of my life afraid. I'm not going to fit in by appeasing, history has shown us what happens to the appeasers, it's very easy to feign appeasing for diplomacy, and maybe that's where I started. But I can't justify spending my life as a coward. I am no coward. I don't fear that I'm going to break up with my girlfriend. I don't fear that I'm going to die, I'm not going to fear failure. I'm going to fear a life unfulfilled. I'm going to let that fear ignite my passion. I'll see you all on the flip side, maybe in 10 years I'll read this and laugh because I'll have made it. Maybe in 10 years I'll be in a different place than I could have ever imagined. But I know that I'll do my damndest to be happy.

Because in the end, it won't be me telling my story, it will be those I loved. It will be those who loved me, and I hope my story does them justice. And I hope some far off day 90 years from now when I die, I won't be a figure of tragedy, but in fact, I will be a beacon of hope, for people to look up for. I hope my story is something inspiring and it will help those who feel disadvantaged and at odds with the world. I hope that my story does my work and my love justice. I hope I honor those who stood by me and loved me.

I'll do my best.

Maybe my obsession and fear of endings has fostered a new beginning.

No, it has. Not maybe.

It's a new beginning.

For tomorrow is a new day, and I will accomplish a great many things.

I have a lot of tomorrows to do it.

 I'm done being a man ruled by fear, I am ready to be a man fueled by passion.

This is my promise to you.

To me.

As Marty McFly probably kinda said:

"Who the fuck you calling chicken?"

Godspeed

I love you all <3

-Bailey S. Fox