Confessions of my tired mind

Quick disclaimer: if  you know me and you have explicit instructions to never get on my page again (you know who the fuck you are, so why the fuck are you here?) Don’t you even dare read this post and once again might I ask, why the fuck are you here?

To the rest of you, happy reading 🙂


 

confessions of a tired mind

Bad habits are hard to shake man, and mine are making an infamous comeback.

It’s all so dense, so compacted into these last couple of months. One scandal after the other all involving me in some headache inducing way. And I haven’t properly said my feelings on the matter, which is leading me to fall back into these habits. These modes of self destruction.

So I will be honest here, in my little safe haven with all of you. I have to remind myself that my feelings are valid.

  1. Ever since I found out about the infamous sex scandal that occurred behind my back, I cannot stop comparing myself to the other girl. Big spoiler, lost my virginity to my now ex significant other so you know, doesn’t really help the self esteem. We agreed to not have sex again for awhile so instead he got it from some other chick. And not to be a total bitch or put down a fellow girl, but oh my gosh I have never disliked a girl in my entire life. I have never wanted to call another girl a whore but here we are. I see her all the time too, she gets a pass for this kind of shit. She gave me a weak ass apology and I wanted to slap her clear across the face because in that moment I realized she wasn’t actually sorry, she just wanted to clear her guilty mind. So here I am still wondering why I wasn’t good enough, why he had to go off with someone else–why he wasn’t thinking of me and my feelings that night.
  2. What’s crazy is that I forgave him, because I’m an idiot. OK, not an idiot per say, but just way too forgiving. I thought about the many stories you hear of resilient women that take back unfaithful men, how strong they are to stand by those that wrong them. Not because they are pushovers, but because they are proving a point; women are ethereal beings that deserve all the respect and honor you can give–be grateful for the mercy they give to some of you punks. And it wasn’t like he didn’t care afterwards, he still can’t look me in the eyes when we talk. In a way it proves to me that he’s regretful, so I forgave but best believe I will never forget.
  3. But now he’s my ex, and that wasn’t entirely my choice. Things got very bad very quickly and he was barely taking care of himself so I needed to step back and encourage him to do so. I miss him. Hasn’t even been a week and I miss being with him, like a lot. Seeing him everyday doesn’t help all that much, makes me even more regretful. He’s stopped by to check on me, which is actually very sweet; he knows that I miss him. Teases me about it actually, playful banter ensues and those are the moments that I’d wish he’d just shut up and kiss me. Because why the fuck are we pushing aside our wants just because of other people’s opinions? Wait, pause. This is when I get mad at myself, I can’t assume that he wants me too. I know that he cares about me still, but I can’t assume that he wants to give it another go–that’s selfish. I think this is the closest thing to love I’ve felt, or it might actually be it. But, I feel like I sound obsessive and whiny and it grosses me out. So I’ll end this tangent on that note.
  4. This one…this one is really hard to type out. I know she’s trying to help, be a good friend and all that and I appreciate it immensely. But there is this feeling of dread that is just mounting within me. Because I know how easily it is to fall back into attraction with that boy, heck I’m still in that boat. It would absolutely crush me if something happened. I know I’m not one to talk but like, wouldn’t you feel the same? Picture this, you and your friend both confessed that you like this boy and the boy flirts with her but in the end chooses to be with you. A very crappy situation but you two go through several rough patches before coming out with an OK friendship once gain; but then you find out that the boy slept with someone else, and for days he only talks to her and others you know. Imagine that? You have to ask ANOTHER girl for updates on your supposed boyfriend, a girl that once showed attraction towards him and vice versa. So now you’re broken up and guess fucking what? He is still corresponding with her, they have late night chats where he’s confessing and confiding. You see them in class and she’s stroking his arm comforting him. He’s giving her small smiles and laughs that you miss so damn much, but can barely meet your eyes when you offer him kindness. And you feel so stupid for being jealous or resentful, but how can you not? It’s not jealousy really because your mother always told you that jealousy is ugly–it’s fear of betrayal. It’s because both of these people have broken your trust to a certain degree once in the past so putting the two together doesn’t exactly make you feel warm and fuzzy. Oh god, if something did happen I just…I don’t know how I would put myself back together afterwards.

 

I needed to let that out before it started to manifest into something worst. I want to be happy, consistently and without barriers walling me in. I think letting all of those thoughts out is the first step to achieving said happiness. So if you took the time to read, thank you very much.

you are my happiness

you

 

I need to write because my mind is restless and going a million miles an hour and yet nowhere at once.

A detour. That’s what he said I’m taking; he’s taking one road and I’m taking a detour but someday we might be on the same road again.

Oh Heavenly Father above, I might love him. And this hurts so damn much.

But he’s going to get better, and I’m going to be right here–being whatever he needs me to be while he puts himself first for the first time in his life. In a way I am incredibly proud of myself for acknowledging this, for knowing that I can’t be selfish and stay with him. I can’t ask him to try and put effort into this when he can barely put effort into himself.

He thinks he’s failed me, he couldn’t be more wrong. I wasn’t lying when I said he made me happy–hell he still makes me happy. I don’t think that feeling will ever go away. I’m going to try and be his friend, I have to try or else I might drown in this feeling of regret.

God dammit I regret this so freaking much. I didn’t want to do it, I still don’t know why I did it when I obviously want to be with him.

No, no it was for the best. I have to believe that or I just might break. I have to hope/pray/wish whatever the fuck I can do to believe that he’s going to be OK. That someday we will try this again and it will be even more beautiful and profound than it had been in the past.

What is it that they say? If you love something set it free, if it comes back it was meant to be? Well yeah that, I need to hold on to that.


 

him

 

 

I like the way he would never use my actual name and I always knew he was referring to me; but I also like the few moments my name would slip out of his mouth and how strange the consonants and vowel sounded to me.

I smile at the little things he does and it was in those moments that I liked who I was when I was around him–I loved who I was.

And yeah he’s not perfect, I never expected him to be. I never wanted him to be; I just wanted him to try and he did. And from this I gained a feeling I still don’t understand myself.

But holy shit he’s beautiful. So goddamn beautiful that you can’t help but cuss. I found myself actually speechless at times hearing the most provoking thoughts escape his mind–he’s the kind of boy they write screenplays about. He’s everybody’s muse and doesn’t believe it even for a second.

He just wants to make me happy and I couldn’t put into the right words that it was him. He’s my happiness, through all the fucked up mess we went through I could still feel the thrum of butterfly wings whenever I looked at him.

He’s the moonlight to my blinding sun.

 

 

 

Going, Going, Gone.

 

going

The past few days have been dizzying. I have been hurt in more ways I can count but I cannot walk away. Am I a fool? Most definitely, but at least I’m aware.

I worry about him, I worry about his sanity–the things that swirl around in his head. So maybe that’s why I chose to stay, because I have this gut feeling; I have this premonition that I am needed right now. But at the same time I am not.

I think people think I’m stupid, careless even. They may think I blindly put my faith in others–oh how wrong they are. I am selective with who I choose to invest in, I must be convinced. And maybe I am shoveling in hours of effort into an empty shell but at least there’s somebody out here trying. I refuse to be another name added to the list of people that have wronged or been wronged by him.

I would rather share whatever light I have been told is possessed within myself, to be that one friendly face among the sea of loathing. I don’t know how long I’ll have, I don’t really care. As long as I can say that I might’ve made some people around me a little bit better I think I’ve done something right.

What can I say? I’m just a silly girl with the stars shining in her eyes.

My Weary Existence

tired

 

Am I pathetic? Am I simply the starry-eyed girl that everyone thinks plays with fire in her free time but really has hands colder than the ice caps themselves? Or am I more, am I worth more?

In those hushed moments there are profound instances of care and wonder between us, the moments where we fit. We simply make sense. But I feel a poison, an infestation killing off the connect between the logical and emotional–leaving me with a nauseating headache and more breakdowns than I can count.

I want to believe in this, I chose this–I can’t walk away. Although I have been given reasons to time and time again. I feel like no one is truly on my side (they may say they’re supportive but I feel utterly alone) or wants to bother with me at this point. Is this how my life will always lead? Making mistakes I must pay for as they are shielded by what appears to be my immense happiness.

This is what I was afraid of–being too comfortable, too giving. Not receiving the same understanding back. But he does understand, he does. Sometimes I see the flicker of knowing in his eyes when the sly grin disappears from his face, and we make sense.

But sometimes is not always, and I’m tired of inconsistencies in my life–my body is breaking down and I can no longer take it.

I am tired, so very very tired. But I cannot look away.

 

Tomorrow

 

img_4584

It can go two ways, I completely shatter and finally break completely down when they send her away from me. My eyes will be puffy and red from all the tears I’ve cried the past 48 hours and I will shut down.

Or it could go how today went, me being an empty shell but resurrecting the moment you made me laugh. You helped me forget how wrong everything in my life is going with a simple teasing smirk and good natured joke.

So it can go two ways, I can be consumed by the everlasting woe or I can drown my self in the light of you.