seasonal aches

Image result for tumblr aesthetic seasons

 

It was summer

My hair was a bit shorter, my smile a bit bigger, and my eyes shining a whole lot brighter. I remember staying up till 3 am on the phone with him, I remember telling him about the art that I loved and how much he wanted me to try painting with him and maybe even on him–a flirty smile would slip on his face and I would blush almost immediately. I remember watching him cry one night while he confessed to me that he was a liar, that none of it was real and that I was a nice girl.

I shattered that day, a million or so cracks found their way on my porcelain surface and something strange inside of me broke forever.

But fall and winter gave me some time for healing, I escaped unscathed.

It was spring

My hair was a lot longer, my smile drifted in from time to time, and my eyes had faded quite a bit but I was coasting through life with someone that taught me how to feel in extremes. But he wanted things when he wanted them, and got them when he asked.

I went tumbling down once again and the fissures that had barely filled themselves opened up, the contents of my enclosed heart came pouring out and I can’t figure how I got over it last time–or why this time I can’t even describe how I feel.

Insignificance is purely relative by definition but sometimes it feels like a mass growing within your mind, body, and soul. I am shards of glass scattered on the tile and everyone is walking around me, careful not to get cut and waiting for someone else to come along and sweep up the mess. It’s all too much, it all feels too fresh still. A nasty wound that hasn’t been given the proper care, it oozes and pusses over the surface of my skin and leaves everyone with the sorest sight their eyes have ever seen.

But you don’t really care do you? You aren’t here to diagnose my aches and pains.

 

I can’t go back

Image result for tumblr aesthetic broken pinky promise

 

We used to be best friends, do you remember that? Do you remember the way we would laugh at the smallest of things, you and me against everyone else?

I think what happened in the summer changed me. It made me colder, the light I once had was snuffed for a moment–I haven’t been the same since. And it’s funny because it was just a small fling, nothing truly significant. But it fucked me up man.

And I am so sorry. I am so unbelievably sorry that I changed, that I hurt you and treated you like the dust beneath my feet.

I still do at times, I push you away and try to shove myself into the smallest of confines because I have to be cautious. I have to stay vigil because people break promises and lie through their shining teeth while wiping the stray hairs from your face.

I’m trying to control it, but it creeps back–the uncertainty. It shakes me to my core and I remember all the times you’ve hurt me (unintentionally or otherwise) and I can’t help but shrink away from your seemingly concerned appearance. People are really good at lying to me, they always seem to take advantage of my naive nature.

So I am incredibly sorry. But no matter how many times you try to prove me otherwise, the sinking feeling will linger and I have to stay on guard.

I have to protect myself because something inside me broke a long time ago and it still hasn’t fixed itself since.

I’m sorry but I can’t go back to the sweeter times.

Sagacious: a spoken word

Image result for tumblr neon signs

 

Allow me to be the first to stand and congratulate you on this award winning performance

A round of applause for convincing yourself and others alike that things do not exist merely because the words falling from your lips speak them into oblivion

And I thank you dearly for this show stopping spectacular of teaching me that pinky promises are a load of shit and that promises you make were meant to be broken

I talk myself in circles trying to figure out exactly how you pull it off, how exactly can you erase an entire quantity of time with simple commas and statements

A divine magic trick and with a wave of your precious wand you have fabricated a world where you are happy, you are without all faults

But I knew you.

Your easy smile and saunter would once make a starry eyed girl like me leap and bound for the chance to be with your sinful nature

I knew you.

I knew that I would’ve ruined every chance of happiness just to see you shine brightly and that it’s an all too familiar notion teenage girls have these days, but no one seems to notice or care to save them from an untimely demise

We watch as they throw themselves into another being, we let them ignore our warnings and pleas because we become too frustrated to understand that they are too sick to hear

That the poison of a toxic relationship will paralyze the senses.

So I sit here with bile creeping up my now resuscitated throat holding back the venomous words I know would rip apart this lovely show you’ve given the crowd

I replay all the moments between us that I thought were drenched in watercolors and the most vibrant of light and realize, it was faded.

I was fading. I have faded.

So you carry on for an encore as the crowd sits there and hungrily awaits the lies and tall tales only a true actor can weave and formulate

As they ask for more, you give and soon you will believe in your own legends and folklore

But I know you.

 

 

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.

 

 

 

That Night.

that-night

 

He didn’t make me do anything, I was given the choice. Yes or no, that’s all i had to say and everything would change.

I don’t know why I’m typing it all out now, it happened 3 months ago–we’re together now and everything. But for some reason  I need to explain uncensored– because sometimes I still feel the guilt crawling at my skin. I still feel disgusting, unworthy to speak to anyone I come across.

But I was given a choice.

It started off small, confessions of harmless attraction through a phone screen; hints of flirtation. I thought He wanted her, I was sure of it actually and it stung, but I felt that if it had to be someone I knew, I wanted it to be a friend–someone I loved. So I didn’t think twice about the late night hangouts at my house, the occasional brush of hands or slow smiles. I thought I was simply another faceless body.

Then the uncomfortable ache around my boyfriend began to grow stronger, I didn’t mind being apart from him as much. Little things about him annoyed me more and more–I didn’t know if I loved in the way he wanted me to. I felt this pressure to always be happy because why be sad? You can just simply get over a mental illness right? It was a naive notion that I couldn’t believe in anymore; and I made the mistake of confiding in Him, something you don’t do with someone you’re somewhat attracted to.

They voiced their concern, all of my friends. They questioned if I was truly happy and I had to figure out for myself if I was; I had hour long conversations with my mom, I decided to end things with my boyfriend after winter break–but I didn’t know it would come sooner.

We were at my house; two of my friends, one being the girl I thought he wanted as much as she wanted Him, and the boy with the eyes too dark to comprehend. A cake was being baked, it was a nice time. I was alone with Him, maybe that was the first mistake but things were said and that’s when I knew He wanted me. I didn’t know what to say or do, so I left the conversation there. Until the next day.

Once again they all came over and once again I was alone in the kitchen with Him; that’s when I was given the ultimatum. Say yes to a kiss, just one. If not, we would forget the idea ever came up. Now I deserve no time to appeal with some background but I must tell this with an uncensored mind.

This boy standing before me was one that I had wanted only 3 years ago, and I had wished that someday His feelings would change from platonic and He would see me differently. Here I was, seeing all of that heartbreak and pining splayed out in an almost cruel way; it was as if God himself was shaking his head at this tumultuous crossroads of my life.

So what do you when a dream you thought had died resurrects before you and asks for you to believe in it once again? Do you turn away and wonder what might have been?

I wish I could say I was thinking of consequences when I made my choice, I wish I could say that I was firm in my answer and told him to leave my home. But, I didn’t–I remember standing there, trembling slightly as this notion swam through my head. I remember a J.Cole song was playing low in the background but nothing else mattered in that moment. So with a heavy heart I must confess that I said yes to Him. And sadly it was the best kiss I ever received; because that dream revived.

I cheated. And it’s a horrible case of irony since I’ve felt a similar pain not too long ago. I did something terrible to a human being, he may not ever trust relationships again because of me. I think of that from time to time, and as horrible as this sounds I’m with the boy I cheated with. He makes me happy.

He gives me a feeling so profound that words do not describe, and I know my dear readers that I have blogged about other boys before on this page. You may scoff and roll your eyes expecting this to last only a mere couple of months before I am back to writing about another infamous heartbreak.

And maybe I will, who knows? But I enjoy living in the present with him.

Anyway, this all did ruin my other relationships of course; my ex and I have only spoken once in person in the past 3 months, my relationship with the friend who also liked the boy is now in shambles–it’s rough. I only hope that someday they will both forgive me wholeheartedly for every mistake I have made with them, it is selfish to ask but I need her in my life. She’s my best friend.

But friends don’t ask such things of each other, I know that. So I’m giving us both time.

As for my ex, I just don’t know. He’s moved on with a new girl and I am 100% happy for him. They’re quite cute together actually, though it’s weird I notice some similarities between her and I. But I do miss being his friend, and I hope someday I’ll have the honor of being one. I hurt him, he kind of hurt me in a way too–but humans were not intended to be perfect.

So this is why I confess this to you all, whomever will take the time to read it. Because even though others say they forgive me, I need to actually forgive myself.

I should not feel guilt for the happiness I feel each time his lips utter my name so eloquently or anytime his easy smirk makes my heart dance.

One should simply learn to accept their mistakes, to confess their sins and then continue to exist. Only then can we all have closure.

 

Vignette

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She sings quitely under her breath because she’s too shy to actually let him hear her voice, it’s a good thing the radio is loud. Her body relaxes against the now pulsating seat due to the powerful bass of whatever angsty song that fills the small interior of the car.

He’s watching her bop her head in time to the beat and feels a smile creeping on his face. She raises her arms up and quickly thrusts them down in an air drum solo—caught up in her dizzying world. It was refreshing for him to watch the carefree way she moved.

She glances over and notices him staring at her, she abruptly puts her arms down. A shrill giggle escapes her lips and she crinkles her nose up in embarrassment. Her gaze shifts to look at her lap, fingers dancing together in a flustered manner.

But he doesn’t stop staring, his smile never falters. He looks out into the distance and let’s out a gentle sigh while they let the music surround them.

She breaks the silence with another giggle, he looks down at her and feels a warm sensation bubbling in his chest. She finally glances over at him and his heart does jumping jacks at the sight of those warm browns.

“I’m such a dork” she says with a roll of her eyes.

He doesn’t respond, instead he moves a strand of hair that’s lazily made its way across her face. She smiles at the gesture but playfully shoves his hand away.

“I don’t know how you put up with me” she mumbles before turning to look out her window. He grabs her chin ever so sligtly and turns her back to face him. She’s now hyper aware of how close their bodies seem to be and wonders if it was always like this.

Without a single word he presses his lips against hers softly and she feels like she’s on fire. He pulls away, she’s a little out of breath.

“Because you’re mine.”

 

I often think about how happy I was in this little snapshot of our relationship, but also how it doesn’t really show the full picture of what was taking place within me—the turmoil in my heart. Life is funny that way. 

 

 

 

ask yourself

ask-yourself

“I think it’s funny” she spat out through clenched teeth and tears, “that at one point he was fighting for me, fighting to love me and now? Now he acts like it wouldn’t matter if I lived or died. And how do you answer for your sins when you’re being told you don’t deserve forgiveness? How do you find the will to exist?”

How do you find the will to exist?