Avec toi ça dure.

 

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I believe in soulmates.

Not in the traditional sense, not one person matching up with one out of this ever growing mass of people. No there are multiple soulmates for a person, I hold this near and dear to my heart, it’s a comfort really.

We change and grow all the time, there are different paths we can take, with each path there is an infinite amount of possibilities. Thus leading us to different people. Different soulmates for different periods in our lives. Who you are now will not be who you are 5 years down the line.

What you like or don’t like is always subject to change. Who’s to say the number of people you can ideally match with can’t change either?

I’ve met my soulmate for this time. This period right now in my life, and he is so beautiful. It’s different with him, I’m serious. I’ve said it before but I feel this time in my body, my soul—not just my mind.

We’re so alike it’s like I’m talking to myself sometimes, everything he is in itself is enchanting. He speaks to me and I hear it, I don’t just listen. I am not afraid of loving him, it feels right—natural—like I’m meant to be in his life. Just as he is in mine, flipping the world upside down with just a glance.

Who I was at the beginning of this month pales in comparison to now. I was so sad, wanting so badly to close my eyes and not ever open them again. Now the fire I had on my fingertips is igniting once more and I’m back to who I was in the summer, maybe even stronger actually.

I feel Fate’s  warm love seeping over me for the first time and I am so so grateful. How on earth did such a blessing stumble upon me?

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Why.

why

 

You should’ve told me. I gave you every opportunity to confess even though the answer was right there the entire time, I was just hoping–praying–you wouldn’t hurt me like this. That you didn’t have the capacity to completely rip apart what little shreds of dignity I scraped along after him.

It’s not like December. Maybe in some raw form, but honestly if I take a clear look at the events of before and now, it’s day and night. You see, I had the courtesy, the respect, to be upfront about what happened between me and him. But you, you hid behind a fake facade of care and love to make yourself feel a little less guilty.

And I am hurting so much. This is to be expected from other people, people that we used to gawk and stare at incredulously; “How could someone do that” we’d ask each other “How can another girl sleep with her friend’s ex? They’re like sharing or something that’s so gross.” How could you do that? Especially knowing how I was with him not even a few days prior.

And I lied to you I’ll admit, I said that we weren’t going to hook up anymore. But that was a full, intentional lie. He told me to lie, said it was for the best and I fully believed that and I still kind of do. But then again I don’t. Because maybe you would’ve had a little bit more self control, maybe you would’ve remembered that I HATE LYING. Especially when you think it’ll make the truth a little bit more tolerable. But it doesn’t it makes it so much worst. It makes you wonder if every single memory of our friendship is fabricated and underlying with lies and betrayal.

It makes me wonder if you were ever my friend at all. You don’t care about me. Be honest with yourself and realize that “family” doesn’t do that shit. At least my family doesn’t. You only want me around because I care about you. You’re just like him. And don’t you dare say he cares about me ever again. I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re saying that more to yourself than me. Which sickens me even more.

I can’t sleep, I don’t have any care to eat or take care of myself properly. I just want to punch a wall until my knuckles bleed, or cry until my throat goes hoarse. Anything to get rid of the burning I feel anytime I look at you.

So why do you continue to interact with me? If you cared you would leave me alone, you would let me hurt and heal and wait until I was ready to look you in the eyes. But instead you make attempts to smile at me, to wave, to make a joke. Do you not understand I’m too weak to properly ward you off? That you have literally stabbed me in the back and each glance my way is another twist.

That every single time I see you two within feet of each other I wonder how two people I thought I loved, that I thought loved me don’t give a fuck as long as I’ll be around to catch them when they slip.

And I was just a pawn in both of your lives.

So tell me Why. Why should I forgive and forget?

 

White noise

 

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“Are you ok?” Um no not really thanks for asking.

“ Is everything ok?” Define ok.

“How can I help?” I don’t know, I’m sorry but I really don’t know.

“What’s going on with you?”  I just, I can’t breathe, I feel numb but everything is on fire.

“Why do you look so down?” Oh it’s nothing see look I’m smiling, I’m smiling I promise.

“I’m here ok I promise.” You said that before, you left me before.

“You’re not alone I’m here.” Then why do I feel so far away?

“You’re special you are, I promise.” How? Tell me how. Tell me. See, you can’t.

“Let me help you.” I never tried to stop you. You just gave up.

“Look at how many people love you.” I know, fuck you, I know, and I love you.

“You’d really do that to them? Really?” Please I just, I can’t breathe. It hurts. I’m hurt.

Give me a reason to stay on this earth. A real reason.

Orange is the color of confusion and anticipation.

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I do not know who I am. I sit here and I listen to these voices screaming over one another for my attention, my help, and I have no care. I can’t will myself to talk about the same problems and not have anyone consider the solutions I offer. I can barely will myself to care about my own well being.

I am dying. I can feel it. I know that something is dying off within me. I feel orange. I feel so orange all of the time. Who knows what is breathing its last breaths within me? Is it a physical thing? Or is my brain just slowly leaving me.

I can barely concentrate, I haven’t told anyone this but it’s harder for me to write down things, my brain jumbles up the words and my fingers fumble over themselves. I get more headaches, my mood swings ravage my mind and leave me dehydrated from all the tears I cry.

And I can’t stop thinking about love, and who deserves my love. Who I would want to say goodbye to when I finally leave, who I want to kiss.

I can’t stop thinking about kissing, the act of kissing, the meanings behind it. I can’t stop thinking about people noticing me. Am I noticeable? Have I left an imprint on the strangers I walk by.

Who am I? Who am I? Who am I? And why am I so orange?

Cosmic origins

IMG_0461.JPGThe sun and moon are a perplexing duo.

Here she was, an emblem of light and beauty—the source of all life casting herself away so the pesky moon could have his moment from time to time. Or so everyone told her.

And the moon was a headache inducing disappearing act; only showing glimpses of himself before finally uncovering his full potential once every so often. Yes, he provided a cool glow in the dark of the night, and of course there were so many clichés about the beauty of the moonlight. But that wasn’t his real source of power.  He pulled people in just as he would the tides, intoxicating everyone in his wake.

This dark nature should have turned the sun away, as it had so many people before her, but instead it encouraged her. She wanted him to shine, to sparkle just like she did each morning.

My dear, the moon isn’t taking anything from our precious sun, she is simply carrying him with her light, with her love.

Levis Cordis

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To you I say,

You are my equal parts in the form of never ending sunshine. You provide me with a warm glow that I can’t quite pin down and yet it seems it’s never the right time for us. It’s like everyone knows we should end up together—hell even we know—but some force keeps us from admitting anything directly. So we speak in code, a code I can barely decipher and sometimes feel like I’m making up half the time. But you are everything I’m supposed to have; not perfect, but completely the fixation of my adoration. Is third time the charm? Or is it just simply three strikes and you’re out?

To him I say,

I want you so much right now. Asking you for help that night didn’t feel like a mistake but now I know I’ve done some damage to all the work I put forth before; the addictive symptoms have returned and all I want is to hear you say my name. Just once, to hear your voice might stop the incessant pang I feel meeting your gaze across the hall. I ache for you, I find myself wondering what would happen if I proposed something casual—just something to cease this longing and gnawing within my mind.

I am too beautiful of a soul to focus on such trivial nonsense but here I am finding myself backed into a corner. You are what is right for me I believe, to see where we could go gives me anticipation beyond my wildest dreams.

But he, he leaves me with burning desire. I need him to extinguish the spark somehow; staying away from me doesn’t help, it only makes me wish for him more. He can’t hurt me anymore. I know this, he’s done all he can do to break me but I am still breathing; but for him to disregard the fact that I am strong—that I am alive—may send me 6 feet under once again.

Oh my fickle heart, I despise you.