Me, Myself, and I

It seems everyone has somewhere to be. And then there's me, a body in three different places wondering just when the triplets will finally blend to one.  I am here, my thoughts are there, and my heart lay beating warmly in hands I have yet to touch.  I can't help but think we simply cannot decide on a home where all of us may coexist.  And even when we do, time and space are much too cruel for kindness.  Long ago I discovered where it is I belong.  Now it is simply a means of compromise and effort on all my parts to find a single space.  And even as we disagree, all of us know exactly where we wish to be.  All that remains is a single form of flight, so that one day, some day, sometime soon...all will fall into place.

Grains of Sand

I wish you understood the mess you left behind.  I wish you knew the power and inflicted damage behind your leaving.  I never knew there to be a summer free of blazing warmth.  Some kind of magic you brought.  The truth of the matter is, the sky was free of fire for more than I ever thought possible.  Cold.  Cold and alone is what you left, the hope I held for so long nothing more than grains of sand piled atop my feet.  But you don't, you never did.

Years passed and not a single thing had changed.  Do you regret?  Do you apologize for any of it?  I can almost guarantee you still believe yourself to have played no part in my breaking.  Blind.  Blissfully blind to any of your faults.  How blind was I to believe, how dumb was I to fall?  Never should I have allowed you the power to take me over.  Thank you, I've learned better now.

A Blip in Time

I'm in constant awe of just how long it's been.  Though you will never see my face again, I have only one question for you. Are you happy?  Is your life exactly as you pictured it to be all those years ago?  Was I at all a friend to you?  Did those years as children shout none but obligation?  I found breath on a day that is meant to be yours.  The miracle is that I found breath at all.  I hope at least that is enough for you.  I hope you remember that even in our distance, I am lucky to be here, typing these words because I found the will, the determination to see the colours of the sands, hear the songs of the birds.

Did I matter to you at all? Those days that seemed to stretch for hours as we played among the smiles of a flame. Now that I think about it, those summers, those days of breath that we shared, were nothing more than placeholders for you.  We met out of obligation.  I knew your name and laughed with you because life threw us together, forcing a twining between us.  I wonder if I cross your mind, if only none but once, for just the briefest of seconds.

I can't help but think it's all a blur, you've forgotten even my name.  But I can't expect very much.  We were children, thrown together by circumstance.  I may not remember every second but bits and pieces have stayed.  I remember thinking you'd be here forever.  How naive of me, laughable a dream it was.  You are there and I am here trying to piece together the threads of my existence.

A part of me questions if I know you at all.  Have you morphed to something, someone unrecognizable?  It's certainly been long enough.  Could I call you out on a crowded street if ever I saw your face?  I think I know the answer, even if I am not brave enough to place it across these pages.  I'll keep them in the files of my mind, spare you an inclination that you mattered to me at all.  Because the truth is, you did.  In a different life, in a different time, in even a world that no longer exists.  But here?  You don't belong here.

This is a world of pain and scarring that you were kind enough to leave hidden.  You know nothing of me, of who I am, and who I hope to be.  We are not children anymore.  No longer do I believe in an earth that houses only fairytales.  I know they exist and I know where they are, but you may not follow me to these places.  I am not who I once was, a stranger to you.  Perhaps to you I was never real at all. 

White Noise

How long before the world permits that I fall to pieces?  How long do I have before the subtle buzz of the closest machine sends fingers tearing through my hair?  Perhaps if I pull hard enough, the bone-crunching pain will exceed any I've ever felt before.  Maybe, if I'm good, if I do exactly as I am told, it'll hurt too much to cry.  It is only then that no one will be able to hear me.  No one will hurry off to find me, save me from the pasty film that clouds my mind.

All it is, is noise.  I've lost the will to try and understand all the mutterings of the bodies around me.  What does it even matter?  None of them are you.  Not one of them is you.  Not yet.  I ask myself how much more will I have to do, have to be, to hear the sound of peace.  The only peace I've ever known lies in the spaces between your fingers, across the blankets of your feather soft skin.  Painting these words, allowing that they dance across, is all that keep me sane.  In this moment, without your face, my music to keep me here, it is words that settle me on solid ground.  I know that the minute I let myself stop, when I finally put the last of these words across these leaves, I'll lose my footing once more.

For now, in these few seconds, I am here.  I am here hoping and praying that someone, anyone will see my plastered smile, see through everything I try to hide.  They tell me it's all just drama, that I'm a bright and shining star, a manipulator of states and faces.  What all do they really understand?  They know nothing of the days of nights and the darkness of before.  They understand so little of the days I lay rattled to my core.  I'll try and tell them now, how many smiles you've brought by.  The moments of serenity as I look into your eyes. The eyes of someone who understands that this isn't just a game.  The one body of all those that cycle the earth that understands that darkness lies in all of us.

I just wish it all to stop, let me curl back into bed, silence all these monstrous waves that crash loudly in my head.  All I truly wish to do is simply close my eyes, run my fingers across your gentle skin and push it all away.  Let there be no more piercing cries, no more subtle squeaks, of all the little things that keep you away from me.  Maybe if I sit here long enough, paint pictures of these words, peace will but surround me in the only way I ask.  But peace is there and I am here, surrounded.  Just say the word and I am yours to take away tonight.

Rise From the Ashes

I spend my days in shadows. Shadows of thought, shadows of hope, and shadows of a sharp reality.  No one knows how long I've been here, trapped in a world I've built for myself.  No one but you.  You are quite possibly, quite accurately, the only one who will ever understand the wiring of a flustered process like this.  You are the only one who has had the skill, the talent, and the gentle persuasions to pull me from my nothing.

It is to you that I owe everything.  You who have birthed me into a world that has finally leaked new clarity.  It is to you that I owe my very breath for you are the only soul capable of reviving such a hopelessness as this.  It is you who has seen through the brick walls I built.  And even as I build the new, it is you who sit atop the highest of them, hands wrapped around my heart.  It is you who take this heart and allow it to keep beating.  A heart that no longer wanders aimlessly but with a purpose, a drive, an understanding of the tangles of the universe.

Melding

Falling asleep would be so much easier if I had someone’s body melding with mine.  Someone to alternate deep breathes with.  Someone to hold me.  Someone’s scent to calm me.  But instead I am alone.  Alone with my thoughts, alone in a bed much to big for just me.  One day.  One day soon.  I hope.

Clash of the...Something

I’m so tired of clashing.  When two people are too much the same, they are in constant battle of thought and expression.  I’m sick of you thinking things that aren’t true just because that’s the way you understand them.  I need my balance.  I need my equal.  But for now, you’re all I have.  Sometimes I wish you could read my mind.  Just to understand what exactly it is I feel so I don’t have to tell you, so I don’t have to lie.  But you don’t and that’s okay.  I’m just gonna have to grin and bare it.  I’m going to have to pretend you can be a temporary him.  I know the truth.  I know reality and it hurts.  It hurts that all I get are phone calls.  It hurts that I can’t stay up late and just…be.  I’m forced to lay awake with my thoughts, because I have no one to share the silence with.  If I fall silent, most of the time I don’t wanna talk about it.  I just wanna sit here and think, sit here and leaf through my bran in search of that one thing that will allow everything to make sense.  Sometimes I just wish you could read my silence.  I wish you didn’t ask questions.  I wish you didn’t pry.  The one thing I need more than anything, is for you to try and be him.  That way I could miss him less.

Try as You Might

Everyone has an opinion that often times has the power to manipulate the way that others see the world.  This is the one place I feel safe, shielded from all the mental twists put in my head.  No two people think, see, or feel the same.  There is a power in every crafted word, every woven sentence.  These are mine.  No one, as much as they might like, as hard as they might try, can ever take them from me.  They can try every trick in the book, but they can’t be me.

Heart-Shaped Balloons

I always thought that, as a kid, when a balloon slipped right through your fingers and into the endless sky, that someone, somewhere would find it.  I wonder if the same concept works with love…

You Again

Isn’t three times enough?  Don’t you already think you’ve done enough dream invasions?  I told you that you could come visit me anytime, but why do you always have to be smiling and happy?  Do you always have to be reminding me of what was, rather than what is?  If I could really use just one, just one where we actually speak and converse like we used to.  But no.  It’s always the facial expressions that I can’t get out of my head.  Are you telling me you’re happy I’m gone, out of your life forever?  That’s what it feels like.  I want you gone, out, wipe my subconscious clean of your faces.  The faces of the ones I grew to love, the faces I would fight for.  So please, just go.  Let me live my life.  Let me pull away from you.  Let me move on to people who actually care.

One Set of Arms

Sometimes all you need is a hug.  Just one set of arms wrapped around you, squeezing you tightly, absorbing your pain.  That’s it.  Nothing special, no exchange of words, just to be held by someone.  Sometimes that’s all you need.  It isn’t going to magically disappear, but it’s less than it was, a little bit of weight off your chest.  Someone to tell you that over time, it becomes so.  Eventually there will be nothing left.  It’s amazing how one set of arms, one simple action, can tell you so much.

I Can't Wait

I can’t wait to find someone who does the little things to make me happy.  I can’t wait to meet the one who learns all of my favorites.  Not by me telling him, but figuring it out just by watching.  Someone who brings out my inner child and isn’t afraid to be stupid with me.  A guy who will sit and tolerate my favorite movies just to spend time with me.  I can’t wait to find a man who isn’t afraid to love me.

From the Outside

I am but an observer, watching the blinding magic unfold.

Scars

It’s true that scars are permanent.  As much as we hate them, their a constant reminder that we’ve been there, done that, and made it.  They show us that we’ve lived.  Lived a life unique to us.  Something that no one else can take.  Our perfection has character.  Character that shapes us into the people we are meant to be.

Haunted

Dreamed about you both yesterday.  It saddens me to think that it’s the only place I”ll ever see or speak to you again.  Why do you always have to reach my subconscious mind?  It still hurts to see you behind the curtain of my eyes. Although, I guess that’s the one place you can still haunt me, seeing as I don’t have the power to kick you out or pummel you for hurting me.  In my dreams I’m too happy to hurt you.  Too big a smile crosses my face to think anything else because I have no clue when I’ll see you for who we used to be.  At a time when I actually meant something to you.  So please, come anytime you want.  Just don’t expect me not to be sad when the light of day tears me away each morning.

'Round and Round Again

It’s sweet how you pretend to care.  Stupid that I always seem to believe it.  Now I know why I’ve given you six different chances.  You’re, plainly put, a manipulative, self-centered bitch.  You want us to care.  Care about what?  You don’t sympathize with anyone but yourself and how hard your life has been.  For god sake, grow up!  It’s not always going to be about you!  We’re all dealt challenging hands in life.  Learn to work with them, not throw it in other people’s faces.  It’s not always going to be about you.  Maybe saying it twice it’ll sink into your brain.  Quit acting like you’ve gone through hell and back alone.  EVERYONE HAS!  Learn some compassion for people beyond yourself.  THAT is how you learn to love.  Not by giving people your sob stories.  For your own safety, look past what you’ve been through and be glad you’re here.  Be grateful of everything you’ve been given.  Oh and another thing.  Don’t you dare force me into a one sided relationship.  I’ve been there for you with nothing in return.  Absolutely nothing.  I’m done playing your games.  Come back to me when you’ve learned a few skills in common friendship. Until then, best of luck in getting people to honestly give a crap.

Painted

We painted the entire town today.  I drove by every place that lay tattooed with memories.  I had to glue my eyes shut just to make it out without breaking down.  Why did we have to walk every street?  Just know that you still lost.  I didn’t give in, but you did.  And one day, you’ll be sorry.

I Just Wanna Thank You

Even if we don’t talk anymore, I want to thank you.  I want to thank you for being my friend as long as you were.  I want to thank you for teaching me to love myself and everything I am.  I want to thank you for those long, pointless conversations that no one else could stand having with me.  I want to thank you for the funky calls in the middle of the night when I was out cold just to tell me something you knew I’d be excited to hear.  I want to thank you for the out of the blue phone call at 2am on the second to last day of summer, not too long ago, just to ask me if I could hear thunder as it poured outside my window (yes I still remember exactly how that went) in sheets.  I want to thank you for everything you ever did, and for existing.  But most importantly, I want to thank you for teaching me something very important.  Now I know exactly what to look for.  It isn’t you.

No Refunds

I am not an item that can be returned if I don’t meet your needs.  I’m either in your life or I’m not.  You chose because I’m a human being with a heart and soul, not some pretty pottery bowl.

One

The most soothing thing about the human race is that there is only one you.  No other can think your thoughts or speak your words.  You are you. I believe that’s what makes us most special.  You are the only one who can make a difference the way you see it.  We are all fingerprints in the world we live.

If Only You Knew

I love how you stand there expecting me not to cry, when you’ve hurt me the most.

Another Avenue

I’m gonnna smile now because if the world won’t let me have you, then the least it can do is give me another reason to be happy.

So It Is

I just hope you’re happy with the choice you made.  I still don’t know why it wasn’t me in the end, but I pray he treats you with all the love you deserve.  I hope he’s the best friend you were always hoping for.

My Box

There’s something soothing about your my room, beyond the fact that it provides me a warm bed to sleep in.  In my room I am me.  I am safe from the world outside.

In these four walls there are no limitations to what I can think, say, or do. 

It is the one room in the house that I can label fairly.  The colors splayed upon them are a reflection of the person I am. 

The music that blasts from these speakers send me to a world that only I understand. 

This keyboard has been tapped with my fingers, and mine alone.

These books I’ve read and explored with my own emotions.

There’s a comfort in knowing that you have something that no one else can lay claim to.

A place where you can be just you.

Clues

People look at me and tell me how much I’ve changed.  I don’t know which perspective to look through.  Do they expect me to be freeze framed in a place that they remember?  Then there’s the question, haven’t they done the same?  Aren’t we just evolving daily, to better ourselves?  The reason they’re so shocked is that they weren’t there to watch. 

You can read it in their tone, they didn’t expect it.  And then you’re tested.  Will these changes force them to run, or love you even more than the last time?  If they leave, they can’t handle the new you.  Let them, they don’t deserve you.  They don’t need you.  It’s the universe’s subtle way of telling you that you don’t need them either.

Fun & Games

It was all about the mind games wasn’t it?  The whole reason you spent eight years being my “best friend”?  You felt sorry for me because you knew I couldn’t make friends.  I was different.  Or so you said.  Well I’m tired of it, exhausted actually.  You flat out lied.  The sad thing is that I don’t even think you realize that you did. 

I don’t know what you plan to say to me in the future, if ever you get your head out of the clouds of love and wonder.  I doubt I can still call the dress mine anymore.  Speaking of which, the twinkly one you got me for my birthday, still sits in my closet untouched.  But you don’t notice things like that anymore.  The little things that had me telling you every single detail of my boring life. 

There was a time you’d actually sit there and listen to every word I spoke.  Did you just grow tired?  I did too.  I’m tired of giving people so much of myself, only to have them say that they don’t need me anymore.  I can tell in your eyes that my favorite season is gone.  You’ll be happy to know, I won’t be naming my kids after you anymore.  It would just be too damn depressing.  Knowing that the one who hurt me most, still lies in my creations.  That dress?  I think I found a worthy candidate. 

So here’s how it’s gonna work.  Just stop haunting me.  Stop showing up in every song that floats to my ears.  Leave this room we’ve shared for years.  Just stop letting me see you in every room I walk.  I’ve moved on, I’ve found a new rock.  And you know what, they love her, just like they loved you.  It tears me apart that they still do because that means I do too.  Stop giving me reasons to smile, it hurts too much to think.  And no, I didn’t grow too attached.  He was the only one I could call a brother and your selfishness took that away from me.  Stop taking what’s mine!  If it wasn’t so quiet I would scream your name.  But what’s the point?  You won’t hear me anyway.

I’m done crying.  I’m done feeling sorry for myself.  Just leave, get out.  That’s what you always wanted!  So I give you permission (not that you waited for it) to tear my heart to shreds.  Because they’ll be there to make it all better in the end.

Just So You Know

You know those places I swore I would never visit again?

Just because they reek of the “us” that used to be?

I consider myself lucky.

I made it out alive.

Just so you know.

In Case You Were Wondering...

Even though you know the ship has sailed, and you’re okay, a part of you still wonders if you cross their mind at all.

The other doesn’t want to know the real reason because you don’t want to bring your hopes up so high, only to have them crushed.

So I think it’s better not knowing, having no idea whether or not I’m still worth a speck of your time, because then it’ll feel like a flashback of that same exact day.

I’m sure you remember it.  The day I lost all breath in my lungs.  The 24 hours (and beyond) that I couldn’t focus on anything but trying not to cry.  The day I replayed everything in my head from the very first day you came up to me.  The first time someone actually worked to earn a spot in my existence.

But things change, people change.  Promises are broken (even though you swore you’d keep every single one).

You’ve walked out of a future you won’t ever know.  And the loss is nothing but your own.

If you’re even relatively interested, I’m okay.  I’m better than okay.  I’m just sorry you won’t ever get to see it.

Rebellion

Writing is much like a rebellious child.  It comes to barely nothing at all but a single thread of thought.  A creator is taught to direct it successfully.  You give it a frame work, you lay out general rules. 

When it finally reaches adolescence those boundaries are tested, sometimes broken.  They want to see just how far they can take you before you lose complete control.  Fingers translate what is thought, into words, words that are demanded of you through a force you cannot see. 

With enough time you are but a master leading a hyper puppy.  All you can do is do as it tells you to, and watch as it blooms into something you never even saw coming.  In time, they take on a life of their own, and all you can do is watch as what was originally yours to protect, becomes something more.  These nourished words have become their own person, leading a life that is no longer yours to shield.

My Odyssey

It’s that subject you dread so much that makes you push harder and harder to achieve because you know how much of a challenge it is.  The reason you come to despise it so much is because you simply don’t understand and the idea of it burst blood vessels you never even knew you had.

But with that in mind, why do I need it?  I’m not going to be a scientist or a doctor.  My art is in words, which at any time can be my escape from reality.  But here I am, staring at numbers and symbols (which really, overtime has become a language all it’s own) struggling to learn it’s foreign tongue.  And in the end, when I’ve reached my final destination, maybe, just maybe, I can appreciate my true love for all that it is, knowing the roadblocks and walls I’ve pushed up and over to get there.

…I just wish it wasn’t so hard…

Unexpected Travelers

I don’t mean to be a bother.  I just want to be noticed for everything that I am and everything I can become.  I don’t mean to be an annoyance but still I float in your very presence.  You have yet to kick me out onto cobble stoned streets in the biting cold of late night air.  Instead you hold me close, keep me safe and sheltered.  For this simple act of kindness I will forever be grateful.

How could I throw such a beauty like yourself to the wolves of evil intentions?  You are mine and mine alone.  No other will ever have the right to label you as theirs, for you are a spawn of my creation.  You float through the door in the dark of night, the blinding bright of newborn day, but I shall protect you, and everything you are.

But why?  Why open your heart to one so fragile as myself who can just as easily dwindle to nothing in just minutes?

You are my idea, mine alone.  And even if you come by unexpected I shall feed you and nurture you to your full potential, so that one day, others can enjoy you just as much as I, and through this birth creations of their own.  Each one of you is a work of art, only enhanced by a willing painter to bathe you in colors so vibrant that no one will have the strength to look away. Be it day or night, rain or shine, you are welcome.  I offer you a home I hope can make you stronger than when you came to me.

Together we shall put pen to paper and you shall be a character on your own adventure.  Stay as long as you see fit.  Be it one story, six, maybe even twenty.  I thank each and every one of your friends for giving me the inspiration to do what makes my heart smile.

I am a writer, my creations are mine, and only mine.  No one can take them from me, for they arise in my own private world, a world of one.  A universe that allows me to paint my own pictures in a beauty that only I can dream up

Make Your Mark

In today’s day and age, thousands quit before they’ve reached their full potential.  What they fail to realize is that, somewhere, someday, what they know could find cures, save lives, create the next greatest invention.

It’s sad really, that youth throws in the towel before the fight has even started. So what?  You have to gain a few bumps and bruises along the way, no big deal.  In the end, every challenge, every struggle faced by one individual could in seconds, be the turning point to someone who can make a drastic difference, improve our world, help future generations better their lives.

I challenge you to keep pushing, continue to be who you are, because that’s why you’re here.  You’re meant for something extraordinary.  Something wonderful that only you’re capable of achieving.

So leave your footprint somewhere along this life.  Whether it be the maths, the sciences, the arts, changes are needed every day.  We all leave them whether we know it or not.

The question is, how and where will you make a difference?  The final choice is yours.  Chose wisely, for every final act is permanent.

Similar Paths

Over time you wonder where they’ve been all your life and how suddenly, they’ve come to mean so much to you.

Untainted

It’s through the innocence of children that we can re-learn how to treat our own kind.

Worn Pages

Friends are like books.  You can either spend the time you have and read through it once, never to touch it again, or love it so much you can never get enough…

I have yet to find someone who looks at me like that.

Eternal Student

And the truth is, you never stop learning.  Their layers are pealed back one at a time over the course of many years.  The question stands.  Are they worth the long stretch of time?  Your answer is yes.  Yes they are.  You can only hope that they’ll say the same for you.

Particals of Speech

You don’t need to fill the air with pointless forced conversation.  There’s always a flow.  Even if topics jump from continent to continent you’re able to keep up.  Because you know how they work, you know what they need.  And even when you don’t, you’re willing to learn what they’re willing to teach.

Sneak Attack

Don’t you get it?  I’m done.  I can’t do this anymore.  Quit acting like you still have a space inside my heart.  You gave that up by walking away.  So why do I see you holding a jackhammer to my heart with that determined look on your face?  Why do you find a way in, no matter how much I try to keep you out?

Willing Player

I wish you could see that he’s playing games.  That’s what he does.  Dig himself deep enough so that you feel for him.  I got out.  I just wish you could too.

Lying to Save Myself

I tell myself I’m okay, even though I know that it’s a boldface lie, to keep intact that little sanity I have left.

Withholding the Gavel

Those with fur hold no limits to who they befriend.  Be nice to them and they’ll love you unconditionally.  They don’t care what you look like or the color of your skin.  To them you are just a friend.  A friend who will scratch them lovingly behind the ear, run fingers through long and short coats of fur.  They limit themselves to a world of affection and concern for others.

…If they can do it, why can’t we?

It Comes Down in Buckets

The sun is shining but it’s still raining, and I can’t find an umbrella to stop the downpour from soaking me to the bone.

The Never Ending Story

I always thought we were on the same page. Now it seems we’re reading completely different books. I wonder how long it’ll be before you’re willing to read with me again. The book will be open for the moment you chose to start looking over my shoulder like you used to. And if you don’t, just know that the pages we’ve read and laughed about together are filled with moments and memories I can never will myself to forget.

They Come Out of Nowhere

It’s the ones who make you laugh out loud in a quiet room, out of the blue, that are truly worth keeping.

Capsized

I know you’ve given up the fight to keep the boat afloat.  All I ask is that at some point in your productive life, I can take up just a small portion of time in your busy day and give you something to remember, give you a reason to smile.

The Chills of Broken Promises

My love isn’t earned easily.  Walls have to be climbed.  You made it once, I gave you my heart.  You threw me a blindfold and told me to put it on and wait for some kind of surprise you’d gotten for me.  With a smile and undying trust I obeyed.  I could hear the smile in your voice as you backed away.  Something in your tone had me smiling too.

After a time I can’t even calculate, nothing changed.  That surprise you had for me, I’m still waiting.  But patience is practiced falsely.  My legs are tired, slipping out from under me.  I feel like I’m slipping.  Where are you to catch me?

Moons and suns have gone by in large numbers and I’m still standing here.  I can feel myself falling.  Along with my tired body my heavy heart lands right next to me.  Hearing the sound of shattering glass I can’t help wanting to punch something.  I’m not going to cry, because then you’ll know you won.  Instead I’ll pound my fist into something solid and pray I don’t break any other body parts.

During the next sun I finally remove the cloth from my covered eyes.  Just as I suspected my vital organ lies in a million little pieces.  Is this what you wanted?  Well I’m sorry, you don’t always get what you want.  I’m going in search of someone with the stitches of love to sew up the disaster you left.

Silent Solace

It’s when you’re able to make conversation out of anything, or make none at all and still feel completely comfortable, that a real relationship stands.  The idea that you’re off doing your own things but still there is a quiet comfort.  “Just do your thing, I’m here if you need me.”  Words that don’t need to be said but are implied in where they are and what they’re doing.  And even just knowing that someone’s there can be enough to make you feel like you matter.

Duct Tape Fixes Anything (Not Really)

Why do I even try anymore?  All I ever end up getting are the monotone recordings telling me to leave you a message you’ll never return, conversations with myself when all I really need is someone like you to tell me that I still matter, that what we had still counts for something, a single word I end up sending myself because I know somewhere deep inside that’s all I’m ever going to see under your number.

My heart breaks with every failed attempt.  Not because I know that you’ll never get back to me, but because somewhere deep in the millions of little pieces that you left behind of what used to be my solid heart, love still lies that will never be returned.

And I know I’m just a fool to hold onto the illusion of what used to be.  I know I’m crazy for still caring even after you broke your most vital promise.  I gave you my heart to cherish with all the love and care I thought you possessed.  But that’s why you loved me once.  You loved me because I was different from anyone else you’d ever met, I gave you something that no one else could.  Something you told me you’d hold onto until we were old and gray.  And stupidly I thought the same of you.

I guess my worst fear has  been realized.  You’re just like all the rest who left me a pile of ashes in their wake of annoyance and frustration.  All those laughs and promises are nothing but floods of tears and lies.

My angels have now lost their wings and I’m stuck here wondering why I even try and give people like you a chance.  Why, when every ounce I put in just gets thrown right back in my face?  I thought you were different.  It turns out I was wrong about that too.

Why do I let my heart break for those who don’t even care enough to see it be repaired?  Am I just supposed to lay here and bleed until eventually I turn blue in the face and can’t form words anymore?  Why do I let myself hurt over you?  Oh that’s right.  I’m wounded and scarred because you took a knife to my heart, threw it to the ground and left it there.  You left it broken and you don’t even see how badly.

Not that you care.  I’m just a wacko who’s extra cautious.  Something you can’t stand anymore.  I thought you knew this.  I thought you understood that I can’t be perfect, that the books I carry tell a history that’s too painful to repeat.  After everything I’ve done you just leave me stranded.

Now I have to start fresh.  Somehow I must wipe my memory free of everything we’ve ever done, all the places we’ve ever been because I know I’ll never look at them the same way after you’ve touched them.  I have to forget your voice, your presence, what you look like, how your arms feel around me when we hug.  How do I do it?  How can I possibly, when everywhere I turn you’re there?

Now my sanctuaries bring me to tears.  The few places I can feel safe and at ease are the places I can’t stand to be because you were there.  The songs that are supposed to relax me, have me screaming the lyrics as they catch in my throat because you were the one to show them to me.

Is it so wrong of me to have hoped that you’d be a different song to sing, a different book to read?  Something in me wont let me throw them out.  I’m just going to have to hide them somewhere, some place even I can’t find them.  I have to move on.  I can’t stand the pain.  Even though that’s exactly what you did in walking away with the lights turned out.  Over time I’ll find someone with a strong enough flashlight to lead me out of this darkness.

Houdini

It’s weird how without even realizing it, you’ve let someone see more than you originally planned. You’ve told them things about yourself that you planned to keep hidden somewhere deep inside but they somehow pulled it out anyway.  And as they pull the string gets longer, longer, longer.  Eventually they find out everything about you.  Even those little shards of truth you never knew about yourself.  And the only thing you have to do, is be.  Because that is all one is truly capable of.  To be in raw, true form is when magic really happens.

Shadows

I thought I’d gotten over it, numbed the pain like I’ve learned to do with all my other burns.  The truth is though that it all came back.  The memories so clear I can still feel them.  I can still hear their voices as if I’d just talked to them yesterday.  Murmurs I don’t think I’ll be hearing for a while in no place other than my head.

I let them burn me most effectively.  Not that it was their intention.  Things just happened.  And there are times it stings like nothing else can.  But if there’s one thing I know, it is this.  The gash on my heart tell me they existed.  The memories we’ve shared, places we’ve tainted that I’ll never see the same way again, will forever be a part of me.

I don’t know whether to call them the ghosts of my past yet.  Because at some point they loved me just as much as I love them.  Which allows me to only hope that somewhere deep down they still do.  Until then all I can do is wait as I apply the necessary ointment to my wounds.  Maybe, somewhere down the line they’ve got band-aids and will work to be the healers I know they are.

As I wait and hope for that day to approach I’ll let the memories that these shadows of love have given me be a reminder that I was blessed enough to have them in my life.

Some say that full healing comes with time.  Healing however, means that eventually you’ll go back to the way you were before anything ever happened.  How can I allow that to happen when they’ve molded me in their own special ways?  More importantly this method means looking and acting as if it they never existed.  Reality tells me that they have and still do.  And even in it’s bitter end they had reason.  They’ve led me on a journey of self discovery that only they could provide.

I can only hope that with time they find their way back.  If they don’t I hope they know that they’ll never be forgotten.  That both will forever have a safe haven in my heart to call their own.  Even if they don’t fully know it.  I’ve allowed myself to fully love them with no restrictions.  If there’s a second more solid fact that I have learned it’s that the world doesn’t let you feel, just to have it be ripped away.  There is a time and place for everything.

My shadows are me.  The world cannot deny me of this truth.  With truth comes realization.  Slowly but surely I’m walking into the second part.  It’s just a much slower walk.

Conflicted

Well, here we are only about five days into summer and there’s already so much going on in my head.  Watching a movie heavy in the romance department was a big help.  So many songs are bringing it all back.  I’m still waking up imagining what we had.  But unless I have the time machine I’ve always hoped for (for which I’m still coming up empty) there’s no way to re-visit the past.  So all I have now are the memories.  I know it was for the best but a small part of me still wonders.  What would we have been if I had stuck it out?  Would we still be as happy as we were when we first started out?  Would those blanks we’d talked about be filled?  The sad thing is, I don’t think I’ll ever find answers to these questions.  I’m just glad we’ve been able to move on and stay friends through it all.

Why the hell did I try again?  All that came of it was the reaffirming of why it didn’t work the first time.  And in the process, (whether it was the domino that started it or just a reactor) I’ve lost my best friend.  We’ve finally been able to talk after a full month of silence.  A shining moment to the end of my high school career to be honest.  As the night went on though I could feel it.  It’s not what it used to be.  As much as I don’t want to admit it, it kills me inside.  To know that all the years we’ve had together came down to this.  The connection as it was, has died.  Either that or it’s seriously buried.  A big part of me hopes for the second one.  In my heart though, I know that wont be the case.  It’s like a ripped piece of paper.  You can use all the tape in the world but the end result will never be what it was as a full sheet.

Even with this painful reality I know for a fact that I’ll never stop caring about her.  She’s got too big a part of me to completely forget.  She’s taught me too much, helped me through too much to just be thrown away like that.  The sad reality is, I don’t have a best friend anymore.  The mere idea tears at me more than I’d like to admit.  I can’t just pick up the phone anymore to talk endlessly about absolutely nothing.  At least not for a while.  The dreams we had of our future as sisters who could make it through anything has been tainted.  I guess she’s not who I thought she was.  I was blinded by the features I wanted to see rather than what was actually there under the surface.  Or maybe the month apart has made us so different that there’s nothing to connect us, bond us as strongly as before.

But even in this, I know I have bonds I can depend on to help me through this mixed up, mashed up time in my life.  I believe that this has allowed me to grow closer to them then I ever thought possible.  And I can’t help but thank them for helping me in moving on from the unexpected hurt.  It’s still there but has numbed a great deal from what it was.  I guess it just reminds me of one of the many phrases I follow.  “The only people you need in your life are the ones who need you in theirs.”  Maybe she doesn’t need me anymore.  And maybe I’m starting to realize that I don’t need her as much as I used to.  And maybe we’ll find our way back to each other.  Only time will truly tell.

All I do know is that things are changing.  It’s just going to take time for my mind and heart to catch up to these changes.  I’m more than grateful to those who are willing to help me get there because I know for a fact that I would be completely lost if sent on this journey by myself.  My compasses have been an amazing help.

As I write this I’m listening to songs that really aren’t helping…  But I guess that’s the joy of music.  Being able to connect with it enough to fully understand it.  Even if they convey memories you’d like to dim they’re still ironically therapeutic.  I guess you could look at it like junk food.  You know it’s not good for you, you know it’s going to be consequential, but you eat it anyway.  A form of torture that’s strangely enjoyable.  I look at it as something that shows you that you in fact are human, that you are capable of emotion, whichever those emotions may be. 

“Never regret something that once made you smile.”  I think I’ve only found one exception to that.  Everything else has allowed me to grow as a person.  Watering of a flower that’s waiting to blossom. Life is never all sunshine and rainbows.  That I’ve learned early on in life.  Through understanding it, I’ve learned to accept that it’s just a part of life.  If it was all easy, where would the challenge be?  What would the joy of the good things in life truly mean?

So even though most of it hurts I know it has to happen.  If it’s truly meant to change for the better or stay the same for that same reason, I’m slowly moving on.  I’ve opened a new chapter in life.  A chapter that involves events and people to better myself as a person.  As hard as it is to realize, these minuscule shifts are all going to mount to an end result that is needed in the world.  Just like moving on, it’ll take me a while to get there.  In the mean time, I shall walk the path with company that allows me to live, laugh, and love just a little bit more every day.

Blended Uncertianty

Today has probably been the most confused I’ve been in a while. All we ever seem to do is fight.  And when I say fight I mean, I do a lot of yelling and he just sits there and says absolutely nothing.  I don’t even know if he’s listening.  The majority of me says no.  He only seems to want what he wants and that’s it.  I don’t want to call him selfish but it seems I have no other choice.

So why in the world did I try again, knowing that the train would never leave the station?  Maybe it was just for the sake of second chances.  I really don’t know.  What I do know though is I’m not happy.  I can’t tell him I love him in the way he wants.  So I think I’m going to get out now before I trap myself in something that doesn’t make me happy.

Where in the world do I go from there?  I break up with him, then what?  Just go back to blending?  People tell me all the time that I’m worth something, that anyone would want me.  I can’t fight the urge to laugh.  Who wants a nut case like me?  My friends and family tell me how great a person I am.  But aren’t they supposed to?  Aren’t the people you love supposed to bend the truth so you don’t get hurt?

Some days I believe them, some days I don’t.  Today seems to be a “don’t” day.  A huge part of me thinks that maybe what I’ve been telling myself is a lie.  That maybe some people are meant to be alone.  That not everyone has that special someone that gives them everything they could ever want, just by existing.  How long will it be before I find the one that wants me just as much as I yearn for them?  Will anyone want me despite every single flaw I have?  Or am I destined to be the old lady with nothing but a dozen puppies to keep her company?

I hope all these questions are answered.  I pray they prove me wrong.  Until then I’ll stick to the one’s who see past my blade-like exterior.  And maybe while I wait, I’ll whip up some smoothies.

 

Bleeding Roses

School is an environment built on the ideas of advancing in the world.  As the years progress we are slowly pulled out of what we know, into something more intricate and advanced.  Each change is structured to expand our minds and show us one more piece of what we are capable of.

What if I don’t want change?  What if all I want is to stay where I feel safe?  Either way you put it, the world doesn’t grant you those wishes.  For no one has a genie with three wishes.  Instead, we do as we are told.  Be it parents, teachers, or experienced friends.  Obediently, we follow, hoping that they know what is best for us.

Most times, they do.  But even your flesh and blood don’t fully understand you.  They are not mind readers.  They don’t know for sure how you will react to certain changes.  We act based on how we feel.  Even the ones who know you best can’t predict your every move.  You are your own teacher.  You alone understand what works best for you and what doesn’t.  You know your own limits.

So why, are we dragged out of our safety into something we know makes us uncomfortable?  As much as we hate it, every change is there to help us grow.  Each challenge we face is the watering of our blossoming plant.  It’s when we’ve done something too much that we feel drowned in the nourishment we’re given.  Some drops do nothing to further grow the flower.  It’s just there and we’re expected to use it.  Sometimes we can’t because it’s been shown so many times that we become immune.  In becoming immune we know that no matter how often it shows up, we can’t seem to get past our fear.

Yet we’re dragged and expected to smile the entire time, as if it doesn’t bother us that we’re doing something pointless.  The truth is, we can’t.  Smiling would be lying.  But you tell them what they want to hear and hope that it’s enough.  Even if we have to mumble your way through every single word you speak.

When all is said and done, it’s a weight off your shoulders.  Parts of you may think you failed, but a bigger part simply says “It’s over, I’m done, I did my best.”  And when criticism comes at you, just nod in agreement because inside you’ve accomplished something better than what any teacher or parent could tell you.

In having the strength to step out of your bubble, you’ve established that you can do something.  Even if it means pulling teeth with a set of pliers.  You’ll bleed and feel pain at being exposed but overtime it becomes a distant memory.  It’s a part of your past that will never be revisited.  In understanding this, you’ve grown, not by rule of adults, but of your own.

That is the only way we ever fully accomplish something at all.  We have to want it badly enough for ourselves.  If we do it just for the sake of others, we die slowly and painfully, knowing that we were forced against our will just to please them.  We can’t be proud of what we’ve done, because our hearts were never in it.  How can one feel joy when, while working through it, we felt nothing at all?

Feel proud of the roses you’ve picked, because they were your own selection.  The thorns are simply a sign of your struggle.  A struggle pushed through to give you something beautiful.  No task is worth it without the work needed to accomplish it.  The harder you push yourself, the harder the labor, the more you feel it was all worth it.  Because only you know how difficult it was and what you had to put yourself through to get there.  The blood, blisters and tears are there to show how hard you’re willing to work to better yourself.     

Where Do I Stand?

Life’s biggest challenge is figuring out where the hell you fit into the horde of millions.  It’s an even bigger challenge when you’ve only lived sheltered by home and classrooms.  Some of life’s biggest lessons are not academic but instead trial and error.  The end result can either bring us joy or unimaginable pain.

Pain, as horrid as it is, shows us that we are only human.  That we are not robots that go about life mechanically. Instead, we are able to feel an array of emotions that show the world who we are.  The way we lead ourselves gives a foreshadowing to the ones around us of who we are as a complete person, and who we hope to further become.

I am but a girl, not a child, but not yet a full adult.  I’m stuck somewhere in between trying to find myself.  The sad reality though, is that life gives you no compass, no shinning star to lead the way.  We are told to walk in with an opaque sheet over our heads and simply walk forward.  In doing so, we can only hope we reach what we want.

What they never told us though, is that life’s path will leave you confused and unsure.  As much as we want to go back and tweak something to make it to our liking, we are driven forward, not by our own choice or desire.  But walk we must.  In our wake we leave triumphs and mistakes.

The rarest aftermath of our errors will leave us with a shadow of pain that will forever be with us no matter how much we want to erase it.  For life is written in pen.  Even when we try and scribble it out, the memories stand behind it.  It hurts even more when you were the one to scribble it out and you can do nothing to change what no longer exists.

The heart is probably the world’s most tender sheet of paper.  On it you express every emotion ever felt and why.  And those emotions can never be unfelt.  You can only hope that it can eventually be overshadowed by something better.

So where do I stand, my feet planted to the earth?  I have nor the ability of a psychic or a time machine to tell me this.  I can only push forward with the sheet over my head and hope that the lost girl can eventually pick a side to stand on and move forward.

I can’t do it on my own yet, that I know for sure.  I have knowledge but not the wisdom to understand.  Until then, it’s all about baby steps to get where I want to be.  And while I make this journey I grasp the hands of those I love most to take the journey with me.  When the time is right, I’ll let go (but not completely) and walk into a world beyond my shelter.  For now I am safe in what I know.  and I think I’ll stay, just where I am.  Until I can make it on my own.