remember the girl with fire on her fingertips?

Image result for tumblr aesthetic fire

 

Originally I was going to make my last post one gigantic thing but I realize I have much to say about this particular topic swirling around my head so…double post.

Being single is really fun in the summer, but also really frigging complicated and let me explain why for you all; I love a good hookup. Sorry for the bluntness, sorry for maybe shocking you a little considering how heartfelt my last post was but I have to be candid in order to properly voice my problem.

I don’t like sex–ok that’s a lie, I do enjoy sex BUT for right now the idea of it is not appealing because of the whole previous relationship thing. What I mean is, my hookup definition is vastly different than most boys, which is what is complicating things. I like a good old fashioned heated make out in the back of a car or your friends bedroom (ahem…not that I’ve done any of those things whaaatttt) but the problem is once you’ve started that guys tend to expect more; and the whole “I had a whole pregnancy scare that traumatized me and my mom and I really don’t want to relive that situation so I’m trying to stay abstinent until I’m ready to be in a committed relationship” speech is kind of a boner killer.

Now here is what complicates my life even more. I hooked up (NO SEX REMEMBER HOOK UP IN THIS SENSE AS IN SEXY KISSING MOMENTS) with a boy that I come into close contact because of my friend circles, and he was a senior. After our fun times he proceeded to go on with a speech about how he wasn’t ready for anything serious (which I wasn’t…I wasn’t expecting anything serious I had just always found him attractive and a little scary but in a hot way) which made me feel really weird. I am the type of girl that understands these things, I’m a big kid; I don’t need a whole speech about how you’re living the casual life because guess what? Me too buddy. I did appreciate the sensitivity though, it was sweet that he cared for my feelings afterwards…which had the opposite affect he wanted. I was then over analyzing everything I was doing a) because of my lovely brain sabotaging me (we were in downward spiral at this point) and b) because I didn’t want to freak him out with my innate instinct to care for people I kiss. I mean it worked for the most part, but then something awful was occurring–I wanted to do it more.

So here I was, weeks of no one kissing me or cuddling, hoping that maybe this boy would wanna do it again. To my surprise (and utter relief) he did. BUT ME BEING THE DUMB ASS I AM COULDN’T CONTROL MY FUCKING HORMONES AND I MADE OUT WITH ANOTHER BOY.

A boy. Who is also in his friend group. BUT IN MY DEFENSE I had had people instigating this so it’s not my fault entirely. So yeah, I kissed another guy and it was…alright. The hot now graduated senior boy was kind of…better. I hate to say it but it’s true. And I had to see him knowing full well that he probably knows what occurred so now I look like a thirsty hoe.

So my problem here is, I am unintentionally spiraling down a path I do not plan on going on; and it’s like no one cares. No one is stopping me from pushing past the point of no return and my brain is kind of like “Hello? Is no one going to tell me this is wrong? You’re all just going to let me ruin my reputation? Alright, bet. And we’re all aware that I am incapable of knowing when enough is truly enough given my mental state right? Okay so if we’re all on the same page I’ll just keep messing up thanks.”

It’s like I’m watching myself from the outside doing these reckless things, knowing that it’ll have consequences, and not caring enough to stop myself. I’m kind of scared in a way, I want someone to save me from myself–I want someone to care about me enough to stop me from becoming something they know I’m not. But I’m not strong enough to ask for it.

This is a cry for help I guess, someone stop me from becoming the body that every guy thinks he can rent for the night.

genesis

Related image

I am alive after a small break of mainly clarity, among other things. I will not lie, the last time I wrote on here I was on the very edge of holding on–so close to letting it all slip away. I shudder now, cringe at the very thought of going through what I had planned.

It’s all so trivial; but all of the things that had happened revealed to me that abuse/manipulation comes in many forms. As I have ridden down from the natural high that person had once given me I have deduced key moments that should have been warning signs.

  1. He was hell bent on getting me out of a relationship that I was for the most part, very happy in. I was trophy, a challenge that confused him–I saw this as flattering but it was borderline obsessive and egotistical.
  2. He had a God complex. He wanted people to revere and maybe even fear him a little. He feels he deserves all of the respect and honor that the world can give without lifting a single finger. In small doses, this would be human–it would be acceptable. But at some moments it would consume him.
  3. He didn’t like being told no. The word “no” didn’t mean the same for him as it did others. It simply meant “maybe another time”, this was dangerous. This was something I didn’t take notice of, but should have. God, I should have.
  4. If he saw an opportunity, he took it. That was his fucking justification for lying, for cheating. He saw the opportunity, and he took it.
  5. I wasn’t allowed to be sad or upset. Any of my insecurities or a small voice of unsatisfactory was met with condescend and sneer. I was built up, but it was undercut with annoyance and manipulative speech of all that he would do for me. It was empty words that made me loathe myself for even suggesting I was worth more than a fleeting compliment.
  6. His love turned sour fast. Sometimes I find myself submerged in the thick honey of our sweeter times only to be yanked to the surface and find a trail of ants in the wake. It started out small, he would be on his phone a lot more when he was with me or not really pay attention if I said something. Then the demands for the so called preciousness between my thighs got a lot more insistent; and once he got that, our “special” times were always overcast with his jeering comments about my appearance, or his insistent flirting with other girls right in front of me.
  7. After everything was over, he wouldn’t let me go. Prom night–I went to prom with a group of friends, it was the prettiest I had felt in such a long time–it was the last slow song of the night. One of my dearest friends danced with me, we dramatically glided across the dance floor with as much extra flair as we could; I broke away to speak to some other friends of mine mid song and he walked over, asked me to dance. As that song ended, he kissed me. He kissed me and I think that led to my spiral downward that I mentioned before, he didn’t even feel the need to actually talk about it afterwards until I brought it up.It’s like he wants to see if he still affects me, and he’s right every time.
  8. I am so so so so so much stronger than him. I can breathe without him, I am lovable, I am beautiful, I deserve to be nurtured and cared for properly, and I fucking deserve to live. There will be times that I may falter when I see him, my breath may quicken ever so slightly the minute our eyes meet but I know damn well I can reach inside myself and find the willpower to never let him in again.

He will not erase my name.

Intrusive: a spoken word

 

Image result for tumblr aesthetic footsteps

I want you to think, I want you to imagine, I want you to step into my shoes for a moment.

You had the best feeling you could ever EVER have with someone.

But you had to leave, not just for yourself but for him as well because above all else HEALTH must come before all wants and needs.

And you go to bed with guilt rising from the stomach into your  throat praying to God that you’ll wake up and he’ll still exist in the world for one more day.

You’ll never know what it feels like to truly touch him again because honey, you’re the mistake.

Because from now on you are a walking VOID of seduction with the scars of his past etched onto your skin and lingering on your lips.

The sound of your name makes him itch and scratch, pawing at the now raw skin that resides beneath his clothes.

He knows you would never hurt him and that’s what scares him the most.

Because you still care, and he doesn’t know why.

You imagine him staring up at his ceiling fan late at night asking why, why WHY, why am I still alive?

My love you fail to realize that YOU are his poison, YOU are the contamination he cannot control.

I want you to think, I want you to imagine.

The only bridge you have between you and him is someone you love like family.

But he goes to HER, she goes to HIM, he talks to HER, she talks to HIM, and you sit there and wait for an update.

You sit there and twiddle your thumbs like a scared little girl because you realize how insignificant you are.

It is not jealousy that bubbles underneath the surface of your skin.

It is the pure hatred of yourself and who you are.

How does it feel to know that the one person you care about the most can’t stand to look at you without feeling like they’re burning?

To know that whatever kindness you try to give will only make it worst.

 

To know that you are an INFECTION that ceases to heal itself.

My dear YOU are the problem, and I swear to GOD  you better bite down on that “I love you” unless you want him to reach for the noose.

Standing there, wide eyed and helpless, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU.

I want you to think, I want you to imagine.

I want you to step into my shoes.

 

 

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.

 

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.

 

 

“I’m a Life Lesson in Human Form”

 

life lesson.jpg

 

You would think that all the BS that’s involved him would be over now but here we are.

I can only imagine what I would have done if the results were different; I don’t think anyone really understands the severity of a situation like that until you’re in it. You think to yourself, ‘that would never be me, I’m smart’ or ‘the chances are way too low’. But it can happen, it does happen–and it’s absolutely terrifying.

You subconsciously cover your stomach while you talk, absentmindedly tracing your fingers and praying that you won’t feel a nudge. It doesn’t really hit you until you hear something, or see something and suddenly the whole word falls on top of your chest. Your vision is blurred because tears are clouding your now fragmented clarity, the tremor of you hands seem to rattle the entirety of your body.

You realize you have to tell him. You have to make it known that something could be very wrong–that you need to see a doctor. But it’s scary, it’s the one of the scariest feelings in the world. You can’t even take care of yourself so how the hell could you even begin to care for another.

But thankfully you don’t have to, because it’s a false alarm. Now you can finally rid yourself of any contact with that boy after he’s put you through hell and back.

And honestly, I hope he finds happiness.

I hope that one day he meets a girl that fills him with so much joy that words fail anytime he’s in her presence; but subconsciously he finds bits of me within her.

Maybe it’ll be in the way she sticks her tongue out playfully, or the sway of her hips to a song on the radio. He’ll hear her laugh pierce through the air or watch as she rolls her much too familiar brown eyes at one of his stupid jokes; and right then and there he’ll think of me.

He’ll think of me and maybe he’ll remember how happy I was, how pure. He might remember watching my favorite movie with me and singing that final iconic song quietly in my ear. He’ll think of how nice it was to feel my soft kisses grace his face and the shrill giggle that would escape my lips whenever he pulled me in close.

And then he’ll remember what he did to me–how he dimmed the light in my eyes for a moment. The fear that coursed through my veins as an uncertain future loomed over the horizon. How broken I felt when he held me close outside my house, the rain and wind whipping past our faces but not holding a candle to numbness inside our bodies. In that small instance, maybe just for a second, he’ll remember.

And I hope it will be a lesson well learned.

 

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.