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?

 

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Saltwater memories

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Hello I am here to give a little update on my life, things are very good at the moment.

I’ve gotten closer to a lot of different people, old friends and new; I enjoy this so very much because I’m allowing myself to glow and prosper at my full potential.

That’s another thing, realizing my full potential. It’s something that has provided so much new love and happiness that I didn’t know I could provide for myself before; something I know cannot be taken away by anyone but myself. For the first time I’m not relying on another human being to make me happy—which is quite mature in my eyes.

And I feel no guilt for growing, changing, becoming my better self. I’ve come to terms that if I lose people in the process of my individual growth that it’s ok. I’ve already manually cut off the negative parts of my life and no longer seek revenge for those who have wronged me; I only hope they find peace within their heartbreaking souls.

So who knows what’s next for me this upcoming year, it’s my senior year which is a big one. I just wish for success in areas of my life that I strive in, people that love me and genuinely push for my excellence, and finally for this glow to remain unchanged and constant.

An older sister’s sentiment

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My dear little sister,

I write to you now typing with one hand on a small phone screen as the other smooths your hair while you drift off to sleep. It is in this moment I can forget that soon you will be 13 years old, for you will always be my little one.

Day by day you grow and as these moments drift in and out I can still see glimpses of your innocence. Nights like these are gentle reminders that you are still maturing and finding your way.

You walked into my room this evening with tears rolling down your cheeks, you gave a gentle salutation and went to your room without another sound; but then I heard your whimpers. I walked in your room and asked what was wrong, you said it was your head but I knew it was your heart. So I curled up next to you on your bed in the dark and held you until finally your eyes shut.

We fight a lot, you and I, but no matter how angry I get or how frustrating you can be you are my little baby. The one thing in this world I couldn’t bear to lose. But still I don’t think you realize how much I care, how much I am willing to care for you when our own mother turns the other cheek.

Tonight is the first night that I have realized this time next year I will be in the process of moving out and starting anew, and you will be on your way to high school; both of us starting new yet frightening chapters.

I just want you to know that whenever you need me, no matter how far away I seem, I will always come back to hold you in the dark and wait until you fall asleep.

Love always,

your big sister.

Quelle?

 

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I don’t know what to write about but here I am typing away on this damn keyboard.

I am different waves of emotion, happy yet sad yet for some reason boiling with rage. I was in London a short while ago for 9 days with fellow theatre kids from my school; the memories of the trip are too plentiful to record here but just know that I was the happiest I have been with other people in a very long time. Each night was filled with the sounds of my shrill laughter and countless inside jokes I will treasure for years to come.

And I really miss it. God, I miss it. The expectation of my life had melted away, I was my authentic self–nothing held back. All of the thoughts that were echoed from my lips were celebrated by all who listened, and the support and love I felt from the masses was incredible.

Sadly, life seems duller back home. I’ve tried really hard not to feel this way, to not make others feel like their efforts are inadequate, but going from 9 whole days of action filled adventures to idly sitting around your house isn’t the easiest of transitions. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells again; not knowing how to properly act around people in my life is one of my biggest pet peeves. It sounds selfish I know, but I had gotten comfortable with not having to diminish myself for the sake of others.

I had no worries. I could breathe without worrying about the people around me, without having to constantly check up on others. And although you would think being around certain people would worsen my mental health progress, it strengthened it. It allowed me to face my past trauma and stare it straight down–making it cower and shrivel away.

So I fear being back will undo all of that progress, that not being forced to cope with my demons will allow me to relax back into unhealthy habits of over analyzing and bottling up the smallest sign of distress. I just need routine to keep my ever so wandering mind from pulling me near the edge again.

Or maybe a person…I haven’t seriously considered needing a person in my life again. Yes, I’ve professed wanting a body to hold or kiss from time to time, but never really anything meaningful. I miss having something tangible to call my own; a pair of eyes shining brightly, an adorable smile, hands to reach out and hold close to my heart or encircling my face with a touch identical to brush strokes on a canvas.

I think I’ve just had an epiphany.

 

retrospect

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You are not a bad person for standing strong in your convictions, for standing up for yourself.

And you are certainly not bad for keeping some at arms length rather than sharing every detail of your life. That is healthy, that is how one should live. It is not wrong to have your own secrets.

It is not wrong to keep them at bay. That does not equate to shutting people out.

things I wish I’d known a long time ago