It is great to hear from you, I have missed you a great deal throughout the year. BUT, before you read this and get ahead of yourself, please note…those are past tense. I wanted you to love me, to respect me and to appreciate me, but now that I have all of that I want to return it back. I appreciate your gesture, I appreciate your feelings but you never did the same. Why do you think you can come back and expect everything to be ‘normal’. Your words are beautiful, and can make any girl swoon but they also are ugly and hold hurtful intentions.
You made your bed, and it is time for you to lay in it. Please don’t be offended by this, but realize you’re a day late, and a buck short. It’s too late, I’m too happy without you. You showed me what it is to hurt, but that just made me better.
I hope you figure out what you need, but please leave me behind as I did you, long ago. I am happy,I love and am loved in return and that is all I need. I packed your bags long ago, please take them on your way out of my life.
The girl that got away.
back. i am back.
I apologize. Why? Why do I feel the need to apologize…well, that’s easy. I have separated from Contradictions, in a contradictory manner in fact. My life has lead me down [surprise] a path I did not expect, and because of that I needed time to remember and remind me of…well, ME.
- Successfully put on Relay
- Fell in love harder than I thought possible.
- Stopped saying “no”.
- I am now a Los Angeles resident, once again.
There are so many things that go with each of those. Slowly, I am sure those will each unravel in their own whim and manner.
f o r g o t t e n.
It has been awhile, a long while. It is not that I have not thought about writing, or WANTED to write, but honestly? I did not know what to write. Since my last post, I have:
felt trampled on
felt like I was floating.
The thing is, my heart was torn apart a bit, for the first time. The boy I thought I could trust and respect was just not who I thought he was. No amount of apologies will make it better. I didn’t hurt from the break up, but I hurt from the lack of respect after. The lies, and manipulations…all that according to him, I have made up…you can not change the black and white. It took a lot out of me, and still plagues my mind more often then I’d like to admit, but
I’m getting a little bit stronger…
The thing is, I have never wished to erase memories. But I wish I could now. You see, I got beat at my own game. My walls, they rivaled those of The Great Wall, but this boy was a grenade and took them down, but after the beauty of the freedom; boy did I see the destruction.
I want to believe that people are good, and that things happen for a reason. I know they do…but just when I was starting to feel GOOD; health, emotions, physical…this came.
But I sit here today, in this airport staring at the beautiful people around me and I can smile. I can smile because, through it all…I am happy and better off. I should not care, and I am going towards my dreams and not trying to become this perfect lie.
You learn a lot through living life. I do not hate him [anymore], nor the reasoning…instead I just appreciate what I have learned, added more to my “want” and “definitely don’t want” lists…I really hope he is happy, and I wish I could thank him for freeing me, for setting me free to experience t o d a y. I am done looking into the future. Today, I am looking at the faces in front of me, listening to those near me, and enjoying it…
The future, well, it has its own way of working out.
So, in the mean time: thank you for teaching me to love, to breakdown, and to rebuild.
b r e a t h
for the first time in awhile, tonight I can breathe. tonight, i got the peace i’ve been wanting, the first step to closure.
tonight i learned, i wasn’t a mistake, i wasn’t a blip in a radar-i was a roadblock. i’m okay with that.
we learn a lot from every relationship we’re in, whether it be platonic or romantic. this week, because of my romantic one, i’ve been hiding from all my platonic ones-but i think that’s okay.
i’ve learned a lot; i’ve learned that i’m not as indestructible as i’d like to think, nor am i as bad ass as i wish i were…hey, it happens.
tonight, i felt like i didn’t lose my best friend-but we’re just pressing pause. the thing i don’t get is, i HATE breakups, hate them! they’re awful! but yet, i still indulge. i get into relationships KNOWING that they’ll end in a break-up, WHEN WILL I LEARN?! haha
i don’t miss the relationship, i don’t need that. what i do need? the companionship, the compassion…
when people break up they try and hide their emotions, they think suppressing them will fix everything, bad news: it won’t.
i think it’s important to talk [or, in my case, blog] about it…you can’t go from saying ‘i love you, babe’ and ‘you mean everything to me’ one day, to ‘ok, talk to you later’…
so let’s talk.
tell me you love me-slap me with that. i want to hurt from love…i think it’s the best ‘pain’ to feel.
tell me you wish you could be with me-i do too, but shh…it’s a secret.
the thing is: i love you, i’ll always love you, and you’ll always have a bit of my heart.
nothing can change this. but BECAUSE of this, i will let you fly…and if by SOME LUCK, you fly back-yayyyy me. if not? i will hug you in celebration, because you will be:
following your bliss.
and that makes me happy.
e m p t i n e s s
I was a killer, was the best they’d ever seen
I’d steal your heart before you ever heard a thing
I’m an assassin and I had a job to do
Little did I know that
girl boy was an assassin too.
I don’t even know where to begin…
so, just a recap of my past few days:
- got dumped on Valentine’s Day-CHECK.
- threw up till i couldn’t stand-CHECK.
- throwing up on myself in front of tons of kids-CHECK.
- drank so I couldn’t think about it/him-CHECK.
- feel like a miserable, cliche?-CHECK.
All weekend I was nauseous and could hardly eat, but then after the wonderful breakup…nausea became my best friend. I have thrown up 9 times in the past 24 hrs and over 11 times since Monday night, fail. Today, I felt so low I couldn’t help but cry. I was a sight, but thankfully Jason happened to be in town and helped me out. He really is one of my best friends and strongest pillars…I can’t believe I almost walked away from that friendship. hmp.
I sit here; sad and a tad melancholy and can’t stop being upset, for a few reasons. I am sad because everything reminds me of him, I am sad because people always leave. I am sad because everyone asks me about him and how excited they are to see him this weekend; which leads me to why I’m upset. I wanted, and asked for nothing else but for closure this weekend. I’ve respected and allowed the person i loved openly to just, w a l k out of my life, casually. I didn’t try and stop him, i didn’t reach out, NOTHING. But I asked for one weekend, and couldn’t have it.
you can’t always get what you want.
i know this. but i thought in this case, i could. he can’t because it hurts, it’s funny to me. call me mean, and whatever else, but HE broke up with ME. HE broke up with ME for his future, because I wasn’t good enough for it. Here’s the thing:
religion is great, it gives you a sense of community, of feeling fulfilled and feeling enlightened. for some people, it is the best thing that’s ever happened to them. BUT, with this being said, i think love is greater. if you really do love someone, in the way where you have to consciously not talk to them, where you feel pain to leave them, i think that’s greater then any religion. he wanted me on his team, but knew nothing about MY team. =[ basically, i wasn’t good enough. and now, i’m left with a bare right hand, and empty stomach, and a heavy heart…
and that, makes me feel e m p t y.
more empty then all the vomiting i’ve been doing, more empty than any colon cleanse could offer.
i just want to talk to him, i want to hug him and i want to rant to him. i
want to let him go, well, i NEED to let him go…
i want to be okay.
- let this be a warning…if you’re someone who may get sad from reading this…stop. tonight the thoughts are flying…
what’s there to say? i’ve worked YEARS in the flower shop, seeing wonderful men treating their women right, while also seeing asshole men trying to make up for it with a price tag…
i love this day for the love. i love it for my friends, but i don’t agree with the ‘romance’ people say it holds…but i’m being hypocritical. i am dating a boy who enjoyed it, and i was excited to give in, just a little. i had planned wonderful things for our celebration; zip lining, photo shoot, dinner….but plans change…
he broke up with me, on valentine’s day.
i cannot be upset, because he is following his faith, but my goodness does it make me dislike religion more now, then ever before. as much as i know the truth of how he felt about me, i can’t help but feel a few things:
- that i was a wildcard he just needed to try
- that i was a space filler
- that i am not enough.
it seems to be a constant with me in relationships.
“too good, too loveable…” come on, give me something better, please.
the thing is, this boy, he is wonderful. he showed me things about myself i’ve never known, and i will forever be indebted to him. i KNOW, for a fact, that he will be amazing and make some lady, the luckiest. he made me feel love. the kind i wished could last
forever. the thing is, this was unfair of me to think:
he was never mine…he was my rental. i fell in love with my ‘rental’…my fault, i suppose.
it is funny to think that this day of l o v e will remind me of this from here on out. why are breakups so expertly planned? July 4th is another for me…weird.
the thing is, if you read my post about white flags…i guess it wasn’t good enough. the colour i presented, wasn’t enough to keep that dreadful white flag away. i guess that last say was
…not to be…
but, i hope that this makes him better, and happier. i hope that i turn to be just a dusty memory and eventually i’m be the dusty right side. he’s someone who’s mind i don’t want to linger in. i want him to forget me, and l i v e.
…or maybe i’m just too scared to remember him, i am scared he’ll always be…to be, to me.
f e e l:
“People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that’s bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they’re afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they’re wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. YOU FEEL YOUR STRENGTH IN THE EXPERIENCE OF PAIN. It’s all in how you carry it. That’s what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you’re letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain.”
how does that quote make you feel? i question YOU because, here I sit, wanting to tell you how it makes ME feel; how selfish of me.
i was told today, that i more openly share things with twitter, facebook, or any other sources that won’t hold me directly responsible, allowing me to stay ambiguously naked. i responded by saying it is because i’m no good at discussing emotions, so sticking true to form, here i go: [i apologize now, for how ‘emo’ this post may come across. it won’t become a habit, promise.]
emotions. i hate them, and i always run from them. i’ve always been semi- bad at them, but recently i’ve gotten worse. the thing is, when i was younger, i saw the world as my oyster and i had the chance to be the meat, or the pearl. as i group up, i realized that the tendons that hold the muscle easily loosen, and the pearl is easily lost, or simply…not present.
the first time i was hurt,
relationship wise, i felt sadder then i knew to be possible, but keep in mind that i was in high school…oh, joy. ironically, that’s the ONLY Valentine’s Day i’ve ever ‘celebrated’ but it was amazing and i smile every time i remember that day….
like everyone, life hardened me. the thing is, with feelings i also became a stone. i don’t open too much with boyfriends because i know they will leave. now, i’m not scared of losing and all that jazz, but i know…i’m not the girl you marry, regardless of what “he” may think, but i’m okay with that->for now.
i don’t tell many friends, because [it has happened] that when a new, ‘shinier’ friend comes along…the
muscle is forgotten.
now, please don’t think i’m sad about any of these things, they’re a fact of life. BUT, for me…i have a slightly different view from here on out:
see, i got sick a few years ago. not a cold, not bronchitis, not even a little “welcome-to-college-MONO”. nope, i got the kind of sick where people stare at you with deer eyes, trying to decide whether it is better to cry, or to not look at me. for me, it was an uphill battle, BOTH ways. through this, obviously i had enough emotions to support the 90’s emo music movement…but i couldn’t show it. the first 3 months, i dealt with this ailment with only my parents and two friends knowing [one being an amazing ex-boyfriend]. you learn to channel your anger, and your tears when you see the hurt in your parent’s eyes. you realize, the unknowing support of strangers is often better than letting parent’s see you depressed. at the time, if i stopped smiling, i would cry…but the thing is, through feeling i became stronger. through venting to the open space, i felt lighter…like jim morrison so perfectly says, i felt my strength in my experience of pain.
i then realized, it doesn’t matter if you’re the muscle or the pearl because at every stage in your life, you’ll be one of them. and either way, whether it be after the muscle is cleared, or the pearl is taken: the beauty of your inner shell will show…it has NO CHOICE, but to show..
writing online was my release. i felt as though, it was out there…and if people wanted to know, so be it. the thing is, if i DID tell them face-to-face, and i did not get the reaction i wanted, i’d hurt…but at the same time i never, ever was i going to be
that girl, that people listened to because they had to…so i write, and i let myself be naked [emotionally] and i don’t have hopes. if people care, how lucky for me. if they don’t, how lucky for them.
my feelings are intense, i hurt, i cry, i am melancholy [often] but i LOVE, and i smile like its nobody’s business… and if you’re ready to take a seat on my rollercoaster, ready to detach and know, not all the posts are about “you” then sit on down, but please…
by all means, keep your hands, feet & mouth inside the roller coaster.
p a s t s
we all have them, but we’re so ashamed to admit it. I’ve come to realize, the busier i get, the more i reflect. i tend to bounce off the happy memories and land on the not-so-desirable ones. i think it’s good, it helps me grow.
i constantly fight a struggle:
is it okay to still hurt?
the thing is, i do not hurt because i long to be back there. i hurt because it did not go how we wanted…it does not discredit or change my mind as to where i stand today. i know things happen for a reason…
as i stayed up way too late doing my midterm, i started wandering on facebook, and skype…
i made the mistake of looking into the past, the one my computer so readily remembers…
i wanted that pizza box romance, and i fell hard for it. i wish more then anything i could push it far from my mind, but i can’t. it is an AMAZING feeling to know that i do not long for the person, romantically, anymore. the thing i miss is the compassion. it is the thing i hate the most about breakups:
you spend SO much time with the person, getting to know them, loving them, being their best friend…then one day that’s all gone. the person you so openly told everything you thought to, now is the person you edit the most with.
i wonder if this will ever get easier? or will i need to be a bit jaded to let this flow?
i want to punch you, i want to tell you how bad i felt, i want you to know how scared i am for ‘that day’. i want closure.
but you should know : i am happy now and i am in the best arms…ones that hold onto the truth, and are stronger then any amount of exercise or climbing could produce.
i am in arms i trust.
i hate figuring out what’s “okay”.
how ironic: Sara Evans “A little bit stronger” just came on…
d o w n.
White flags. They’re interesting; so bland, so open-ended but extremely telling. things get hard, especially these days where the time to breathe is something we have to schedule, sleep…well that’s a whole other story. we teach each other a lot of hard lessons these days and the question is always raised:
raise the flag, or keep it d o w n.
i like to think i’m protecting others when i raise it, that i’m this difficult piece of work that people have to deal with; that is not right. i am SELFISH to think that this is what the problem is. the reality is, everyone deals differently, everyone heals differently.
lately i’ve faced the problem of deciding:
- raise the flag?
- bury the flag?
- change to fit the situation
- stay the way i am, and chance losing.
i overreact and want to put the flag U P because i am terrified of losing myself in someone, or something else. as you can see from my previous post, i’m not a fan of being left ‘dusty’.
it hit me today. life is throwing me SO many different directions these days, and there are many different routes i can take today that will directly affect my tomorrow; i must tread carefully. i found that picture, with the amazing quote by emerson today and thought it was perfect.
i fought today, but about NOTHING that can’t be mended, can’t be built on. i have to remember tomorrow is a brighter, shiny, new day.
you can’t raise the white flag today, if the thought of it still waving tomorrow makes you sick to your stomach. as much as i’m a lover over a fighter, maybe it’s good for me to fight a little for love. it has never been a problem i’ve had before…i got away with murder, but that is not mature. for me, i need to be forever evolving and learning that it is okay to fight, bury the white flag, meet half way and say “i love you”; is crucial to my self-evolution.
so tonight i say: today, i fought…yes. but, i fought for tomorrow. i fought for love and for compassion, for a partnership that can’t be matched, and for a wild card.
i wish “white flags” weren’t an option. the temptation of them scares me.
my white flag is down, my “me” is still guarded, but bury your white flag with all of it’s ambiguities and drab appearance and lets
l o v e in colour.
l i f e
it is funny isn’t it? we’re on this constant quest to find a “right hand man” whether that be a friend, a companion, a lover, a soulmate…you get my point, but we’re still a bit dusty on the right.
by this i mean:
i’d like to say i have a good amount of people i care about, people i’d do anything for, and i’d like to THINK they’d do the same. however, with that being said…i disagree. it has come to light that no matter how hard you fight to love, to lust, to enjoy the right side, it’ll always be a tad dusty. whether that means you’re mourning the person who used to stand or lay there, or you’re comparing the current person to the shadows of what was.
i love to love. the real kind, not the high school school girl kind. when i love, i give, i share, i cherish, i adore, i…you get the point. however, recently i’ve realized, through this, i’m still changing my bed sheets due to the dust on the right side.
don’t get me wrong, this isn’t to say i don’t have THAT company, i do…a wonderful boyfriend who is nestled in a small town where he found solace. but this is my point exactly…as much as i want to love everything about us, and i mean everything, it is almost impossible. it’s these nights, the late ones, i come home to an empty apartment, light my candles and select my “melancholy” playlist and hope to drift to sleep before my thoughts suppress my slumber.
he’s my right side, a few others are…but they’re strewn out. further north, further south, new mexico, idaho, new york…but as they should, they’re evolving in their own lives and i, as a friend, am only a partial sliver. Friends are the partial slivers we TRY to slip into our busy schedules, but the truth is, we can’t. unless you’re in a relationship that consists of just 2 people, and you forget about everyone else [don’t get me started], you’ll always have a dusty right side.
we go out with friends, to have nights we’ll never forget…which may happen, but will we remember the beautiful faces that acted as composers to that night? the wonderful conversation that covered the staff with beautiful notes? or will we remember the event, and forget the splendor?
it’s interesting really. i’m the girl who flys free, and when i see a cage, i RUN, because honestly, sometimes flying isn’t enough. but, i do wish, i could stop feeling this emptiness of a dusty right side. i wish that this wasn’t becoming more & more apparent to me. and i hope this doesn’t change how i treat and love, the people i love.that i continue to love them, regardless of how ‘dusty’ i feel after.