Back for a Moment

I’ve been in college for approximately 2 months and I have grown into an entirely different person.

My hair is darker for starters, which has made me feel more mature in a way. I feel like a woman, an actual young woman who will be able to do grown up things and start a new life.

I’ve become more confident and unafraid to be myself. In high school I know I put up a front and now I shed that with ease, my friends receive my authentic personality and celebrate it with me.

Theatre is hard. It’s demanding. But it is my dream. Sometimes I falter, I get scared that I’m making the wrong choice; but then I remember they chose me. I am not here by mistake, I earned my spot and I will continue to prove that everyday.

I’m done being compliant, I’ve let people walk all over me my whole life. I’ve accepted the worst treatment, and never directly addressed problems. But now I do. I want my experience at Elon to be one of positivity, I’m tired of high school shit. I surround myself with people on the same plane of existence.

I’ve made my family here, and I love each and every one of them. Now, I have to start practicing loving myself more.

And there will be update on that later 🙂

Advertisements

God Only Knows

Image result for tumblr cross aesthetic

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.

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 🙂

hello sunrise

8964CA99-BE89-4FA8-9C9A-8BB0C767B36C.png

 

 

I used to use this blog as a support system. I used to divulge all the key details of my life and every intimate feeling I stumbled across on this screen.

Now I just tell them, I tell the people I love what they mean to me instead of sharing it out into cyberspace. I think I used this as a crutch, a way to indirectly share what I felt. But that isn’t real, that isn’t the way life is. Things are fleeting and you have to tell the people who matter to you their worth to their faces. Pour out your heart, let the vulnerable stares encapture you and lead you to utter bliss of the unknowing.

I grieve, I am grieving. But I am also celebrating. I’m 102 pounds of light now, a healthy weight, a good weight. One filled with happiness and adoration for what life has given me.

I wish no pain upon those who have hurt me, I truly don’t. I put up this facade like I’m hard and sharp but I am delicate; it is a trait I now wear proudly. My heart is gentle, it is big, it is forgiving and I am thankful.

In this harsh world we lack love; we lack an understanding of each other, but when we hold on to the good things—the beautiful things—how then can the grays of this earth reach us?

These are new colors, I have not seen them before; I quite enjoy them, I really do.

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?

 

White noise

 

1B116298-6B7B-4798-948B-74FE49E52577

“Are you ok?” Um no not really thanks for asking.

“ Is everything ok?” Define ok.

“How can I help?” I don’t know, I’m sorry but I really don’t know.

“What’s going on with you?”  I just, I can’t breathe, I feel numb but everything is on fire.

“Why do you look so down?” Oh it’s nothing see look I’m smiling, I’m smiling I promise.

“I’m here ok I promise.” You said that before, you left me before.

“You’re not alone I’m here.” Then why do I feel so far away?

“You’re special you are, I promise.” How? Tell me how. Tell me. See, you can’t.

“Let me help you.” I never tried to stop you. You just gave up.

“Look at how many people love you.” I know, fuck you, I know, and I love you.

“You’d really do that to them? Really?” Please I just, I can’t breathe. It hurts. I’m hurt.

Give me a reason to stay on this earth. A real reason.

Orange is the color of confusion and anticipation.

C626259A-6D62-4C25-93F3-F819228ED789.jpeg

 

I do not know who I am. I sit here and I listen to these voices screaming over one another for my attention, my help, and I have no care. I can’t will myself to talk about the same problems and not have anyone consider the solutions I offer. I can barely will myself to care about my own well being.

I am dying. I can feel it. I know that something is dying off within me. I feel orange. I feel so orange all of the time. Who knows what is breathing its last breaths within me? Is it a physical thing? Or is my brain just slowly leaving me.

I can barely concentrate, I haven’t told anyone this but it’s harder for me to write down things, my brain jumbles up the words and my fingers fumble over themselves. I get more headaches, my mood swings ravage my mind and leave me dehydrated from all the tears I cry.

And I can’t stop thinking about love, and who deserves my love. Who I would want to say goodbye to when I finally leave, who I want to kiss.

I can’t stop thinking about kissing, the act of kissing, the meanings behind it. I can’t stop thinking about people noticing me. Am I noticeable? Have I left an imprint on the strangers I walk by.

Who am I? Who am I? Who am I? And why am I so orange?

Cosmic origins

IMG_0461.JPGThe sun and moon are a perplexing duo.

Here she was, an emblem of light and beauty—the source of all life casting herself away so the pesky moon could have his moment from time to time. Or so everyone told her.

And the moon was a headache inducing disappearing act; only showing glimpses of himself before finally uncovering his full potential once every so often. Yes, he provided a cool glow in the dark of the night, and of course there were so many clichés about the beauty of the moonlight. But that wasn’t his real source of power.  He pulled people in just as he would the tides, intoxicating everyone in his wake.

This dark nature should have turned the sun away, as it had so many people before her, but instead it encouraged her. She wanted him to shine, to sparkle just like she did each morning.

My dear, the moon isn’t taking anything from our precious sun, she is simply carrying him with her light, with her love.