The Difficult Perplexity that caused Distress

I would like to make a disclaimer for this post to say that I do not condone compromising your happiness to stay with someone that is toxic to your health. But I will say this: you do not choose to be mentally ill, it is out of your control sometimes. Disagree if you do, that’s ok I respect that, however I am an individual who at times does succumb to the struggles I have. I feel shame for this, and you must understand that your loved ones may feel ashamed as well for not being 100% ok all the time. While I understand you can only be patient for sometime I encourage you all to try and continue to love individuals and encourage them even on their worst days. Thank you for taking the time to read this. And to the person this post is for, I am sorry for disappointing you; you may say that I didn’t. But I know I did because I disappointed myself. I love you.

If you can’t love yourself how can you love someone else?

The very notion of this phrase stares me down and laughs at me; it tells me everyday that maybe I don’t deserve love, and I find that unfair.

Because everyday I wish, I pray my brain didn’t work the way it does. That I could read as many self help books, I could exercise and feel endorphins coursing through my veins, and somehow I would feel better.

I wish I could choose to be better, I wish that when I do choose it would stick. That it wouldn’t be a struggle some mornings to get out of bed and smile at a stranger. That it wouldn’t feel exhausting to eat or give myself basic care.

It’s easy for some. It’s so easy that you feel lazy. You feel like a bother, you feel like you don’t deserve to cry—to ask for a little more help. You feel disgusting, so unworthy. Pathetic.

I want to be better. I need to feel better. I feel like I’m screaming inside my head, screeching at the sky for some deity to rewire everything and make me new.

Sometimes I truly believe everyone would be better if I wasn’t me. If I was born with a completely healthy mind; one without baseless fears and paranoia, without the need for sensitivity, no gentle care needed the minute my fragility shows through.

Someone that didn’t need anyone. Someone that didn’t pretend that they were independent because the minute she would feel herself falter she could brush it away and smile.

But I can’t be her. I fucking wish I could, I wish more than anything in this entire world I could be that for everyone.

I wish it more than life itself.

So to answer the question, I can love others.

But I want so desperately to love myself, because that’s easier said than done.

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God Only Knows

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It’s been 2 months since I wrote on here last, and I have no regrets. You see, I don’t know what to write; I don’t know what you all would like to hear, what stories I should tell. But I’ve missed it, I’ve missed sharing my thoughts onto a keyboard and letting the words take off while I zone out into a comfortable silence.

When I last wrote on here I said this world lacks love, now I look back and I realize what I truly meant; this world lacks empathy. In the place I live in people are so entitled, whether it be material or emotional–what they feel they deserve they will monopolize with no need for explanation. Everyone is guilty of this, no one is perfect, a simple flaw within the long list of humanity’s errors.

I feel like I’m different; I think I continuously look back and put myself into other shoes. I’m not entitled to anything but the happiness I create myself, and focusing on myself does not make me egotistical or rude. It gives me strength, a strength untouchable by sad individuals so crystalline you can see the tendrils of their heart writhing like an infestation. I feel sorry for them, but that’s their problem and not mine.

But onto more positive things; I’m still with my love, my lil’ chomper, my sunshine on a cloudy day. It’s been half a year and I still fall in love with something new each time I see him. Our ups and downs have been extreme I will admit, but nothing about us is toxic; it’s simply honest. It’s a real relationship, with real and normal issues you have to work through together. I think he doubts himself too much, he doesn’t understand that he’s the one I choose to trust; the one that knows my most vulnerable parts and never judges. I have never in my life been more comfortable with someone; he’s my best friend.

And I leave for college soon, I’m scared. But yet I am so ready to leave, to venture off into the world and find out who I was born to be. I will try to write more on here, I will try to convey how I am growing through not only my experiences but the way I describe them. I am thankful to those of you who have read my writing.

Happy reading 🙂

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?

 

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.

 

first.

first

I think there is a twisted beauty in a person’s first heartbreak. The cliche angst filled words coming from a teenage mind is familiar in the sense that we expect it; we’ve grown accustomed to the toxic metaphors and cheap similes that fill a tear stained keyboard or piece of paper. But, as I sit here writing my very own prose–I cannot find this twisted beauty anywhere. Because no matter how intricate and detailed you try to make it sound, it doesn’t prepare you for the heavy chest and shortening of breath. Nothing prepares you for this ache that resides in every inch of your body.

You hurt me. Plain and simple, no elaborate description behind it. You lied to me, you lied to her, you lied to everyone; the one thing that plays over and over in my mind is the fact that in 24 hours it all changed. We went from laughing in my living room, to me being told that the whole time you were with me–you were thinking of her.

And you know what hurts even more? I thought that she was the “other girl” when the whole fucking time it was me. You promised her the moon and stars and simply recycled the same leftover lines for me–oh a cliche metaphor, how original of me. But, that’s what you did; you gave her “I love you’s” and me, “someday”.

But what I really need from you is closure. I need you to explain why you lied when I told you that night in a hushed whisper that that was my greatest fear, to have someone make so many promises but deny making them at all. I need to know why you looked at me the way you did and made me feel like I had the galaxy spinning on my fingertips. I need to know why you let me waste a word count filled with the thoughts that floated around in my head about you.

I know she is getting these answers from you, I know that right now–at this very minute– you are calling her your “baby girl” and begging for her to give you another chance. I know you’re calling me the “desperate one” and lying right to her, and maybe she’ll believe you. For her sake, I hope she doesn’t.

I had to be the bigger person though didn’t I? Instead of making you apologize 100 times like she is, I simply forgave but I will never forget. Well, maybe not never because as much as this pain feels like it will last forever I know that someday it will stop. So, I hope you find what you’re looking for. I’m going to take it one day at a time and find what I’m looking for as well.

 

 

 

 

Update on Exodus: I haven’t posted anything new because guess what? I’m in the works of converting it into a short film for you guys! Really excited! As you can see  from this post, things didn’t work out–it hurts a ton but I’m going to make it though. Happy reading 

-One girl

 

ANOTHER OPEN LETTER

 

another-open-letter

Basically you’re made out of the brightest stardust in the sky and I don’t really think you understand the beautiful potential that you possess; Like, you make me smile and yet also make me  want to drop down to my knees and praise every inch of skin that was crafted by the universe itself–and I just really appreciate you as a person.

You’re the kind of person that inspires paintings and poems but never gets the chance to read them and know what jewels are buried down deep beneath your soul. I find myself wanting you to hold me tight and let me trace your skin and paint your portrait on your body with my best oil pastels and brushes.

You are just…you’re this lovely person, with this lovely body, and this oh so lovely soul. And the whole crazy thing about this all is that you don’t even realize it! You’re so beautiful– absolutely breathtaking– and you don’t even know it.

So this is my vow–my promise if you will–I will show you, tell you, make it known to you how much I appreciate the holy temple that is yourself. Starting now. 

 

 

 

-onegirl

I Should Tell You.

tumblr_o4lp89lsee1v724eto1_500Dear you,

I miss you us. Honestly, I don’t know what happened…I really don’t. You know how you can just feel a change within a person? I felt that with you, and I couldn’t pinpoint the exact source–so I avoided you. I know we wouldn’t have been more than friends, I know this. So why does it hurt so much? Gosh, I sound manipulative. I don’t want you to feel bad or guilty ok? I just need to tell you this.

I cared about you a lot; I made the mistake of believing I was more special to you than I really am was. I can’t just avoid you either, too many mutual friends reside between us. I told you so many things the first day I met you that take me months to tell others. You looked at me in a way that made me feel understood–accepted.

But maybe I just assumed too much ya know? I tried so hard. So so so so so so damn hard not to feel anything. That just made it worst–the emotions spewed out. For a moment it was amazing to feel that way; I’d forgotten how great it felt to adore someone so fiercely and openly. I was never sad around you, but I knew that if I needed to be I could–which is important to me.

I miss your eyes. I find myself looking for them, only to be disappointed. Do you remember when I could barely meet your gaze while talking? Now, I stare down every person I encounter to see if I can recreate the same feeling before. I can’t. I swear I saw your soul; it shimmered like the stars and was doused in watercolors, all the laughs that had escaped your lips before were artfully scattered atop the surface with all of the memories you held near and dear to your heart.

Every time you looked me in the eyes, that’s all I could see. I miss that. I miss hugging you and feeling like I’d known you my entire life. But that’s not what I wanted to tell you. Yes, you may scoff–I just wasted all this time to tell you what I really needed to say.

Thank you. Thank you for showing me a glimpse of what I deserve in life, teaching me the way I should be treated. I was so used to doing stuff for others that even the smallest things you did impressed surprised me. Thank you for this. Also another thing, something within me tells me that in another life we end up together. Call it wishful thinking, but anytime I talked to you I felt this underlying sense of nostalgia–and I think that’s beautiful.

I think that you’re beautiful.

-onegirl