Poison

I felt the vapors wash over me, making me sweat.
It was then my phone vibrated.
Expecting to hear from Chase, or any number of friends still getting out their Merry Christmases, I picked it up slowly and thoughtlessly.
Imagine my surprise when I found out it was from him.
I felt electricity run through me, and not the good kind, when I saw his name lighting the screen.
His words were kind, but they felt like poison. They felt like razors slicing me open and spilling my guts. I started to cry. How was this fair? He wanted to make amends, I suppose, but I didn't want it. I wasn't ready to forgive, or be friends. I still wanted to try to shut him out of my life completely.
The tears gone, my stomach turned.
We were done. I didn't want him in my life.
I let go.

A Night Alone

I am TRYING to be patient.
I am TRYING to be not jealous.
But...how?
How do I go about something so hard?
He likes her status or comments on it all the time. More than mine...He texts her ALL the time. More than me. I guess I understand he sees me more often but christ....sometimes I feel like he is ignoring me. I know he gets my texts because he never puts away his phone, a prime example being yesterday. We were in the library studying (I had been there for 4 hours previous before he came) and he couldn't stop texting the entire time.
Yes, I felt a little second rate.
Yes, I knew he had two big tests tomorrow.
But COME ON.
I don't know why I'm jealous of her. She is apparently in a very committed relationship of 2 years. But is it so bad I wish that he would rely on me a little more? Maybe this is my problem. There is some sort of dependency factor that is driving me up the wall.
I want to be one of his best friends.
I do.
So why do I feel like an accessory?

Balancing Act

I felt at times so ready to fail.
But lately I was happy.
It was so refreshing to walk into a room full of people and feel special. To be the first, and not have everyone jaded against you. To feel the glow coming off the person next to you as he introduced you, or he was congratulated.
Maybe it was something I made up in my head before, but it felt markedly different to be amongst this family. Maybe it was because they had more faith in togetherness. More faith in people staying together, and not being a phase. It might be, of course, that I was a phase. But I was the first and I was not viewed as such.
I wasn't met with the expectation to fail.
And he loosened up. It was the warmest I'd felt him in days. He had been warm, that's not to say he hadn't been. But today he felt loose and calm. The edge fizzled a little bit away. The uneasiness that separated us dissipated. He had is hand in mine, and eventually it shifted to be placed around my shoulders. This felt so special, so full and real. It was warm.
I could feel a spark between us I hadn't felt in the past weeks. It was nice to have it back again. His lips to mine sent trails of fire up my body. It felt like lightning, blocking out every thought and emotion except that moment. No other world existed. It was nice to feel our attraction match, coinciding so beautifully for this moment, the way I felt it should be.
His body was starting to fit mine, I was starting to feel comfortable in it, like breaking in new jeans and feeling them finally give way to your shape, your quirks, the way you held your body, the way you walked, the way you hugged, the way you moved. Not quite like a glove, but it was getting there.
I could feel the stress emanating from him, and from me, over the anxiety of finals and what they meant to each of us individually. I wanted this to clear away, so that threat on our minds could clear. I wanted us to be happy and care free (well, as care free as we could be, being science students.)
This felt more normal. Caring about me part of the time, caring about him part of the time. Caring about us both, a tandem that felt balanced and strong, even in times of stress.
I had new hope and light.
I had my individuality and I had him.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Short Changed

For all the moments of certainty, there did come moments of doubt.
I tried not to feel hurt when he told me he wanted to take me home first, because we had a project in the morning. But I knew I was kind of pouting in the backseat. I became noticeably less chatty, and I couldn't hide the signs of disappointment that I was sure were showing in my face.
Before long my happy Christmas cloud was gone.
I thought about him texting while we were walking, and taking me home first. I felt like I hadn't been allowed time to be with him. I felt like our date flopped. I could feel my eyes itching a little, a small pin inching it's way up my sternum. I hadn't had any real time with him for at least a week. And this wasn't real time.
So I sat quietly and decided not to say anything. I wouldn't ruin the night.
However I was decidedly hurt he didn't want to be irresponsible with me at all, when I so longed to be. Why was I the irresponsible goober?
I gave him a quick peck before trying to dodge inside. He wanted more, but I wasn't in the mood with his mother in the car. He pulled me softly into him as I pulled open the door, but again, soft pecks were all I gave him before slipping inside. I was in no mood. I was tired and hurt, and I wanted him to figure it out, although I knew he wouldn't. He sure knew how to leave me wanting more, with more of a saddened feel to it. So I went inside.
In retrospect, we had an unknown audience in the living room.
Maybe it was for the best.

Tears

I wanted to hit myself on the head.
I was doing it again.
I was crying and crying and I couldn't stop. I knew it wasn't his fault, and I wanted to say I knew it wasn't my fault, but I couldn't make him stay. And that made me feel terrible inside.
So the tears came out.
But he cuddled and he lay with me, and told me it wasn't my fault, not to be sad, and that I was good enough. All the things I wanted to hear.
In that moment, when I felt him there, not shrinking away from me, I felt my heart inch a little closer to him. Even though I was sad.
In that moment, I knew he was there for me.
I was still sad as he left, and I called my mother and told her to bring me home. After venting a little, I felt better. I told Chase to feel better, and I felt no resentment in telling him to get a good night's rest.
I know became very exhausted and realized I needed some rest too.
After a bad start of dreaming my dad was dead to trying to scramble in sorting rakes and finishing my physics homework, I was ready for a rest.
I was ready to settle into turkey weekend.

Dimmed Lights and Atmosphere

I was a little nervous going into it, but also excited. Which led to a strange anxious feeling as we finally decided to sit down.
I had no idea what to get.
So Patrick suggested the Amber Ale. It came and I was nervous, wondering at all those around the table, wondering if they would judge me for my lack of knowledge, and all too conscious that they would watch my face as I took my first sip.
It was light, and a tiny bit bitter. But it melted to a soft, warm aftertaste. After a few sips, I could feel a little warmth in my tender cheeks as the blood rushed to them.
The food was delicious, and the balsamic and mozzarella on bruschetta sent me to heaven. A few bites of nachos, and I felt a slight sting on my tongue that strangely complimented the warmth in my cheeks.
The talking was a harmonious chatter, filling the background in my head almost subconsciously. The lights were dim, which bugged me at first, but as the night progresses I didn't notice that either. I felt warm and relaxed, and I finally understood why people went out for a beer after work.
It was good to finally have a good beer, and drink just for that beer, and not choke it down like some indelible mixer that would have me dancing around the room. It was nice just to be relaxed, in a dim room with good food and wonderful people.
It was strange, but I had an epiphany in that moment.
Life was just to precious to worry. Life was just to short to fidget, and waste time wondering at what people though of you. I knew that I would be ok, and life would go on, no matter how stressed I was. I wanted to be alive, to be a girl. I wanted to flirt, I wanted to go to small quiet parties, drink a little and have fun. I wanted to meet new people, and succeed at what I did. I wanted to live.
I felt heady as I sat there, and as I left. It was soft kind of heady that made me feel just the slightest bit like a feather, floating on borrowed breezes.
I had a really nice time tonight and contemplated other quiet nights over drinks with close friends.
aaaahhhh. Sigh of relief.

Chin Up Tiger

All those things I had been feeling just caught up with me that much faster.
Every single insecurity, angry feeling, and sadness pinned me to the spot.
I hadn't been over him.
I hadn't been ready to move on, it was true. And somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that it wasn't the right time. But he seemed like the right guy...and so I gave it a chance, hoping my internal wounds would stop bleeding. And it was so nice at first.
Until I became the problem.
This was very frustrating. I didn't want to be the problem. I wanted him to be the problem. And in a way he was, but I wasn't strong enough to give up on it.
I remember what Sabrina had said.
"Just frame it differently. Don't think of it as giving up...Think of dating someone as giving up on Sara."
Maybe this was true. I needed to focus on me, I just didn't want to. I didn't want to feel the overwhelming sadness that I had felt before, so I had applied this simple band-aid. Band-aids don't aid oozing gashes. I needed stitches. And stitches, albeit quite a bit more painful, would heal me.
I needed to make my stitches.
This was frustrating. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to fix myself, didn't want to need fixing. But that's just what it was. I needed fixing. I needed repairing. I needed time, as much as I never wanted to admit it. Being ok just didn't seem like a possibility anymore, although being ok sounded like a prized and distant getaway vacation.
I had to deal with my sorrow, even if it didn't seem fair, even if it didn't seem fun.
I realized maybe I had just trying to fill a void in my life. A void where someone I loved had been was now empty. And I needed to find my own strength, and to continue on from there.
That support was what was missing. And although I've missed it, part of why I needed it I could try to fix.
I missed Max.
But I was also so incredibly angry still.
And I wanted to fix that. Not with him, but to get my emotions towards him to fade, to move on, to not need him, to not need anyone.
I wasn't ready, but sometimes it's not about being ready.
Sometimes it's about being strong.
Sometimes it's about changing because you must.

"We Belong Together"

We belong to the light, we belong to the thunder.
This song was sticking in my head.
I don't know why it was distressing me so much.
He always wanted to leave. He could say no to me, and I couldn't say no to him. That was the most frustrating thing in the world. I didn't want to beg him to stay for 15 more minutes. In the end he did, but it felt a little hollow.
I was a passionate individual.
There was no halfway for me.
If I was going to do this, I wanted to do it. I didn't want to be held back by silly important intentions. I knew things were important, but why did he always have to cut our time so short? I wanted just one long afternoon that turned into night that turned into morning. That was a lot to ask, but it was what I was so used to.
I knew I couldn't have it. But that didn't stop me from wanting it.
For one day I just wanted him to give up on everything else and just be mine. Monday nights weren't right for that, but Saturday nights were. I just didn't want to want this so much more.
So I could feel myself getting frustrated.
But there was nothing I could do. No demands I could make.
Why did he even come over tonight if he was only going to stay for less than 2 hours?
I was perfectly fine keeping this night to myself until he made the suggestion.
I was used to negotiating minutes, even if my negotiating turned me up for broke. I was used to being in a situation with someone who had many minutes to accommodate my negotiating. This was good, giving me time to study. But that didn't change how I felt, like I simply hadn't satiated my desire.
Evil thoughts crossed my brain and I tried to block them out, imagining myself with a sword and a shield, battling them for the country.
Was I supposed to feel this deflated?

"We belong to the light, we belong to the thunder. We belong the sound of the words we've both fallen under. Whatever we deny or embrace for worse or for better, we belong, we belong, we belong together."
~ We Belong by Pat Benatar

Hour 9

It has been 9 hours since last contact.
And I think I am literally going to go insane.
This makes me sound terrible.
But there is seriously something to be said for accidentally not talking to someone for 24 hours and purposely not talking to them for 24 hours.
Purposely not talking to them is a million times harder.
But I made a resolution. I want to make space so I don't make him crazy. But it is so hard. I write it here, because although 6 million people have the capacity to see it, it is much less likely that they will. And on facebook it is more likely that my 600 some odd friends will see it.
My audience is much smaller here and I can't have 3 status updates in one day.
That's pathetic.
Ok, so maybe here on my blog isn't the best outlet.
Because now I just sound like a silly boy crazy girl.
But honestly, maybe I sounded like that before. I was just a little more eloquent...
Oh no.
I am a silly boy crazy girl.
And I want to talk to him.
When will this madness end????

Sapphire and Faded Jeans

I wanted to be me. And I wanted him to like it.
I wanted him to chase me.
ahahaha. strange play on words.
So, I decided that I was going to let go a little bit. I was done clutching birds and cupping water in my hands. At least I wanted to be done. Yes, I guess I should know that people needed space, unlike me.
But that was not entirely how I was, so I didn't understand it. I guess girls are all the same, eh?
So I would try my hardest to give up a little bit, let him come to me. You have no idea how hard this is going to be for me. But I need to have a little bit of faith in myself.
Is this a resolution?
Yes.
I am in no mood to be eloquent in this moment.

"Girl put your records on, tell me your favorite song. You go ahead, let your hair down. Sapphire and faded jeans, I hope you get your dreams. Just go ahead, let your hair down. You're going to find yourself somewhere, somehow."
~ Put Your Records On by Corinne Bailey Rae

These Days

The big wide world seemed so wide today.
So much so that my body shut off from it.
That's the way I dealt with overwhelming things. If I couldn't comprehend it's largeness, I ignored it.
Shutting down on the world: probably not a good sign.
I couldn't explain it. I wanted somebody to fish me out, but I couldn't even begin to understand how to fish myself out.
Why did I feel so numb?
This was dangerous. More dangerous than hurt and anger. It meant I was past the hurt and anger and didn't care.
I hoped tomorrow it would be gone again.

Cool Mornings In Dust

This morning I paused to give reflection to him.
I couldn't erase him from my mind.
A year. A year's worth of memories and moments, closeness and love. A year that I had very much lost.
I couldn't speak or look at him. And the reasons for this were clear. I had been in too deep. I was in no place to be kind to him, let alone pursue any kind of friendship with him. I saw clearly now what I had not seen before. Before when my vision was clouded with denial. I saw that I could not reasonably communicate with him in any manner.
And yet I missed him.
It was normal, to miss someone as important and close to you as that, someone you knew you would never get back, ever. But the pain was gone. The crushing pain that I would be alone, and that he would not, the pain that I had lost something so dear, that pain was gone. This feeling now was more like an inkling of what was.
I could not hope for January to come any sooner than I now did.
I had been in too deep, and there was no halfway for us.
What had been there for me was too strong a memory to disgrace, too strong a connection to re-make in the image of friendship.
I couldn't do it.
But these cool fall mornings were too familiar as I wondered at how things could be different. They couldn't, but my heart still beat softly as I looked on out the window, a breeze on my face as I watched the leaves.
My life had changed because it had to. That was not who I was anymore. To me, that was bizarre. How could I have such a dramatically different identity? How could I feel so changed, and how could it be so differently so quickly, with no progression?
I wanted to know that I was ok, and that my internal thermometer wasn't giving me a delusion of calm and collectedness.
I wanted to know that I could love again.

Shadow through the Window Sill

Time felt paused and tiring.
I couldn't speak a word to anyone.
I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe.
Life was motionless and painful. All concentration was lost.
I thought nothing and everything at the same time.
In this moment, I felt so immeasurably alone.
His words cut at me. He seemed judgmental. He seemed to disagree with everything I said lately. I voiced my problems, but he felt no concern for them. He had his own problems to deal with.
The image of that tiny mouse, the life leaving it's tiny body, very much like a light going out, flooded my head.
I had never seen death so clearly cut.
I had never seen the life leave something so distinctly.
One moment he was alive, and right before my eyes, the life force slipped out of the mouse, reaching some infinite destination that I couldn't see. Maybe like an after-life, or a void. But it was somewhere I couldn't comprehend right now.
My heart wanted somebody to trust, but I felt like no one understood. Yesterday I would have felt differently.
Today I felt this way.
I was closed off to the world.

Self Release

Today I decided to get rid of the remnants.
Today I decided to give away those clothes.
It didn't consist of much, but it was enough to pain me a little when I rifled through my drawer or shuffled through my closet. And I was done with that part of my life. I was letting myself get out. I was letting myself be happy. I was letting myself forget.
It was a perfect Sunday, full of soft weather and lazy kisses. I could have stayed here forever. The intrusion was not a happy conclusion. So I didn't let it be. I sat in a swing, happy and content. I turned on the music, letting the soft and steady beat take me away, into a cheery morning. Waking up here with him, was a moment I was blessed to have.
These were the mornings of fall that I remembered and loved, and so dearly missed. I thought I might never see one so happy again, with yellow leaves on the ground and life ready to continue.
The piano in my head played on.
I was finding me, and I was happy to do it. It was hard, and I couldn't admit to even being close to reaching achievement in that area. But that wasn't to say there was no accomplishment. I was making it out ok.
I was making it out, piecing together my whole.

Hey Soul Sister

I had found Sara.
Somewhere amongst the bright new clothes and driving with the window open looking at the leaves, I knew. I knew she was still there, ready to be her, shining and beautiful.
She knew what she loved and hated, she knew what she liked and didn't, she knew where she was going and what she wanted, but also knew life still had some surprises ready to teach her more about life. Life sucked sometimes, but she could hold onto herself, right here.
Plan for body peace breakdowns:
1. Buy some new cute clothes.
2. Put on whatever looks best if #1 isn't an option.
3. If that doesn't work, but on your favorite bikini and dance around.
4. Get a boy to do something for you without flirting ;)
5. Take a shower. Get dolled up.
In the worst of situations, sometimes body peace wasn't the problem. The problem was Sara, shutting herself and her emotions down.
1. Talk to a friend.
2. Dress sexy, and walk around like you own the place.
3. Hug everyone you see.
4. Remember everything you do.
5. Stay busy with all those things you remembered.
6. Go for a hike, go for a swim, get your body moving and refuse to think.
7. Find a new obsession.
8. Get lost in an old one.
9. Go look at the leaves, get lost in nature.
This was a pact I was making with myself. To be better. To be Sara.
And I knew she could do it.

"The smell of you in every single dream I dream...Hey soul sister, ain't that mister mister on the radio, stereo the way you move ain't fair you know."
~ Hey Soul Sister, Train

Brand New

I didn't know what this was, but I was along for the ride for this moment in time.
A kiss was so simple and so joyful.
Kissing was practically ecstatic.
I hadn't been so giddy in who knows how long. So I was ready to try it, whatever it was.
The physical connection, however...didn't feel as strong. At least not yet. I wish I knew what it was, but I figured I would give it some time. Because he was cute, and a better kisser than some. I wasn't consumed yet...
And it made me so happy. That had to mean something.
I was happy, giddy, smiling til my cheeks hurt.
That had to mean something.

Waking Up

I shook the grogginess from my eyes this morning.
And decided I need to rid him from my life if I was ever going to be happy again.
Because he didn't make me happy.
I wanted to shake it off, like an old, dead skin. I wanted to wake up in the light and air and earth.
Music pulsed through my veins and cheered me up immeasurably. I could feel it like a light trying to escape my body. It was happy and loving, it was joyful and cheery. It was what I needed.
Like my sudden cold, I wanted to shake his disease away and be happy. I wanted to find myself again, find all the things that had made me so happy, find the moments where my life felt balanced. I wanted to shake the weird emotions that came with this funk.
"It's wonderful, it's wonderful, it's wonderful, good luck my baby. It's wonderful, it's wonderful, it's wonderful, I dream of you. Chips, chips."
~ Via Con Me by Paul Conte

What I Lack

I about lost it in that moment.
She was here. She wasn't significant to me, aside from the fact that she had been part of my former life. And now she was here, where I could hear her. And it nearly toppled me over. I felt all strength in me drain down my fingertips.
I was, in that moment, blind. I couldn't see. My eyes became foggy of their own accord, and it was extremely scary. My head was too clouded to allow any thought, it was like pea soup up there. It was almost like I was really tired while still feeling out of control at the same time. I didn't want her here. But I couldn't kick her out.
I felt a shiver run up and down my spine. I felt something in my stomach jump up my throat. I felt a burning hatred and paralyzation like I had almost never felt before. Why was it like this, just to have her here?
Something was wrong with me, and that something wasn't going away.
The day had been fraught with thoughts of him. Even in the visiting another, stepping into his parallel universe, the thoughts plagued me, and made me realize how unhappy I was with myself. Why didn't I love who I was? Why did I let other people determine my value?
There seemed to be no easy answer to that question, and although I knew I need to move on, I was scared to.
Scared to get better. Hmmm. That was a weird concept.
I was so tired. Too tired to think, too tired to try, to tired to live.
So broken and tired of love.

One Year

Hot water massaged my back as I contemplated this new me.
As large droplets fell repeatedly upon me, I looked down at myself. I viewed my body differently, now a year from all that had past.
It didn't hold the same power as it once had (at least in my mind). And I didn't use it to get what I wanted anymore. It wasn't a tool. It was still mine, however, and I wanted to say I very much treasured it. But I failed to see the same innate beauty I had seen it before, now, in this form. The water washed over me, somehow revealing to me how I now regarded the physical containment of my personality and soul.
It is one year since I "launched" this blog. (give a couple of days.) And exactly one year since I began to regard my body with the sort of power I know had somehow been lost. I wasn't sure if this was good or bad.
I can't imagine myself ever being the same.
I glowed in the warmth my personality and soul was treasured for, however. What was severely lacking there in recognition of its beauty was now brought to light.
People loved my heart.
I went back to thinking about blue waters, the lake, so close and so surreal looking. In a moment, I would be under the surface, but I contained myself. Cold or not, the water rushing across my extremities would somehow bring me peace. Nature would bring me peace. It took everything I had not to dive in headfirst.
My soul flowered infinitely in that moment. And longed to be fulfilled and seen for the beauty it contained. My mind made a note of such progress and promised to try to give it the love it deserved, and respect the physical container which housed it.
The mind promised to love the soul that loved all.

Scream

How can this be fair?!
How can I allow him to be in my head, how could I continue to let him torment me?
It was like a disease; all I wanted was to feel better, all I wanted was to heal, all I wanted was to stop the pain. It had subsided, it was growing less heart breaking. But I still felt entirely consumed with sadness on occasion, and it spread through my body. I felt incapacitated as his venom seeped through my veins and caused a burning sensation.
I could be strong in moments I felt needed and loved. I could be strong in moments when I didn't need to care about myself and my pain. I could be strong when I was fulfilling a purpose. It was the being alone and feeling inadequate that brought me down.
I felt the pain wash over me and I succumbed to it.
I wanted to be alright.

Some Things are Food for Your Soul

I was astounded.
In every possible way I was astounded.
I reached deep into the heart of myself. I was surrounded by wonderful, inspiring people, who had cause and vision in life.
I could feel my brain tell me that the huge, disrespectful move this woman made was a reflection on my leadership. And I heard and felt my heart tell it no. My heart, as if wishing to rebel up to this moment, felt physically angry in my chest. No, it said, this is not your fault. You are an amazing leader and you knew all the right things to do. You handled this in the best way you knew how, and people are going to recognize that in you, and love you.
You know that everyone loves you.
That's what he said to me.
You know that everyone loves you.
Not phrased as a question, but rather a statement of undeniable fact. I was a little taken aback. But I could see in my heart the capacity to love and be loved. My love was so big, my love was so vast...my love was so infinite. It was a passion and in my heart I could not deny it.
You know everyone loves you.
The words resounded in my head a million times, more than anything else he had said about how great the training was and how well everyone melded.
And in a way, between this and feeling my heart most ardently protest to my brain's low self-esteem habits, I knew.
I knew I was better than I gave myself credit for.
I knew that some people around me had issues, and I knew that wasn't my fault.
I knew that I was a strong, independent woman who could rule her life successfully.
I knew people loved me, looked up to me, and respected me.
I knew I loved them, and to be fair to myself...
I knew I had to love me.
That is when I had the courage to change my relationship status to single. I knew I wasn't quite ready, but in my heart, I knew I had a rip-the-band-aid-off personality. Better sooner, I thought to myself. Better I let myself give up on it, and let the wound see the light of day.
The sun and wind and earth would heal it.
I felt myself jumping into my new life, as I so often did. That was who I was. And after all, what was the love and happiness worth, if it took no pain to get it? The love and happiness wouldn't be so strong and vibrant. And I would feel it again, and in this moment, I felt love for my family and friends, stronger than ever. I felt loved and loved others.
I strolled under the autumn leaves in the crisp air, and I could feel my spirit brimming with happiness, warmth, and contentedness. Walking around the lake made me feel a spirit deep down with in me, something I missed most about myself.
I thought about autumn leaves, crisp apples on my tongue, and meandering through the mountains. I thought about the beauty of nature and the love of close friends.
My heart glowed with the compliments people gave me about the weekend. How well I ran things, and how responsible I was, how poised and amazing I was.
I wanted to keep that feeling in me, or at very least, close by me forever.
Is it possible to cry out of happiness?
Because I am.

Baby Steps

After saying every hurtful word I could say to him, I felt a little bit better.
It was all off my chest.
Even though I missed him desperately, I recognized my heart didn't ever want him back. He wasn't the same guy that I met a year ago. He wasn't the same man that cared for me. Now he was a boy who needed to find himself and stop hurting me.
It made me sad, but I couldn't try anymore. I could tell him all the things he had done wrong, and he could say he was sorry (he wouldn't) and I still wouldn't be able to be happy there. But that didn't stop me from sifting through the good memories that I still clung to and still wished were the way he felt about me.
But the simple truth is that wasn't the way it was anymore, or the way it had been for a long time. And as much as that broke my heart, it was the way it was.

"And the hardest part was letting go, not taking part. That was the hardest part."
~ Hardest Part, by Coldplay

Ticking Clock

I felt like I was missing out on life.
But what else did people want me to do?
I couldn't help but check. It was like he had planned it, like he knew how to hurt me worst. It wasn't like it didn't mean anything, and that I was reading too much into it.
He was sending a message.
It made me cry.
Well, I wanted to cry.
I was back to being me. The one he didn't end up wanting. Except now, I was just a notch in his stick. A fond memory that didn't ever really mean anything. He had moved on that quickly and was putting himself back out there for the taking.
I wasn't special enough for even a month of sadness or getting over.
I was worthless.

Solitude at the Lab Bench

I sat there lost in the busy work.
Makes wells in gel. Fill wells with dyed DNA fragments. Run gels with electric current. Feed mice. Label tubes. Input data. Fix data I just incorrectly entered. Stain gels. Photograph gels. Clean gel plates.
Everything was accurate and precise in science, everything that took time paid off somehow, whether it was in results or learning.
I felt the tension in my muscles from being held in such a stern position in eager concentration for so long. It was almost a relieving tension, although I ached. It was the tension and concentration of total and utter science.
But walking out of the lab, life was real again. I was back to everything else, that totally overshadowed my first semi-successful PCR, complete with bands!
I went back to being sad.
All I could think is, why doesn't this stop?? When does it end??? When will I be able to function normally again without being constantly reminded of my pain?
So I longed for the tension in my shoulders and the ache in my back.

Dripping Feta

Drip drip drip.
The feta was leaking.
Why did I feel so alone in this moment? Why did I feel so alone today? What was it that made me feel as if I couldn't be close to anyone at this time?
I felt so entirely shut off. Like someone had decided to turn the lights off without my permission. And then I found myself stumbling in the dark, running into closet doors and tripping over pairs of shoes wondering what the heck was going on.
I knew I had friends around me, but in this moment, for some strange reason, I felt as if none of them understood what I was going through. Or perhaps they did, but none of them truly honestly cared. I could ask nothing more of them except what they had already given, so I sat in silence as they laughed.
I wanted to laugh too.
It was so strange that my once best friend was entirely cut out of my life. One of the people with whom I shared everything- every feeling and touch, whisper and secret, joke and laugh. Although here was the catch.
He hadn't shared everything with me.
And even when he had, he hadn't divulged every detail. I was left to grasp in the dark, fuddling with my buttons. It was enough to get me walking and never want to look back.
Though I did eventually look back.
There was too much pain there, too much longing on my part. I wanted my best friend back, but because of circumstance and the fact that he couldn't bear to love me, I could no longer have him back.
I was nothing special to him, just another unfortunate bump in the road he would feel guilty about for a couple of days and then eventually move past.
Maybe my anger and sadness and loneliness was displaced. I didn't know where to put it, so I spread it to those around me. And when that only matters worse, I closed my eyes and hoped no one noticed when I shoved it into my broken, leaking feta container.

Take Back Your Taffy Puller

Oh my.
Please go away.
All these feelings that I'm feeling, go away. I didn't want to feel like this, like damaged goods. I didn't want to feel like I was ruined forever. And even though I knew this wasn't true...that's what it felt like now.
I tried to have a crush on someone else, just to give me something to think of. But it was impossible. There were plenty of cute guys for sure, but none of them really set off that spark.
I knew I would need time to heal. I just didn't want to take that time. I wanted that time to be already past.
I wanted to be happy and whole again.
Which, most might argue, I wasn't when I was with Max. And maybe I wasn't. But I felt closer then than I did now.
I was trying ok?
Stop pulling at my heart.

Drunken by Exhaustion

My friend told me I was acting weird, and I needed sleep. My brain searched for some answer, and I was telling it to do so, but I was having trouble getting it to start up.
I sat there sniffling at two in the morning.
All of a sudden all the sadness overwhelmed me. Seeing him had finally caught up with me.
I didn't want to be so sad and broken. I wanted to be happy and whole. But somehow I couldn't. I couldn't be happy and whole. So I sat with a friend in a small room crying soflty.
His arms came in around me quickly and tightly. The position at which he held me was awkward, but he didn't care. He pulled me into his arms as the tears rolled down my cheeks. It started out slow and silent, but my friend putting his arms around me soon encouraged the sobs out of me.
In my head, I thought all the days I was with my ex, every time I cried, he pulled his arms away from me, let go, or walked away. He had never pulled me in closer, as I was now being held, by someone who was just a friend. My friend understood more what I needed than my ex ever had.
Eventually the tears subsided, quieted by the warmth of loving arms.
I had people looking out for me in these sad times, even though I felt completely alone. It was these small moments sitting in the small room, playing cards in the coffee shop, that I found the strength to be ok, at least for the moment.
Time seemed to be skulking around, making me miserable. I just wanted this part of everything to be over and gone. I tried to will time faster. Will it away to a time when I would be happy and whole again.
A time when I could no longer feel so sad a lost.

Wading through the Surreality

I was just thinking I could do this.
Then I had to see you.
It was fine. I ignored you, I didn't make eye contact, I monitored where you were so I could talk loudly but never be alone around you. I made sure my eyes lingered no longer than absolutely necessary.
And I wanted to call you a whore.
This just didn't feel real. I felt like life was happening, but I wasn't part of it. I felt like the last year with you didn't happen. Didn't exist. It was fake.
I found out you had flirted with girls when we were still together, lied to me completely about when you were really leaving, and seemed to be uncaring anyways.
I could have no positive thoughts about you whatsoever.
Everything seemed fake and unreal.
I felt like I was living life now in a haze. I was happy at times, but very lost. I was wandering through the smog of my life, tripping amongst the underbrush, trying to find high ground.
My curiosity killed me, but I stayed far away. I tried to keep my life going, no matter how misdirected it felt.
I wanted you to leave so badly I could scream.
I wanted you to not exist, like I felt our time together didn't.
I wanted you to be hurt.
I wanted you to be alone.
I wanted you to cry.
I wanted you to die, at least in a way, for me.
Because even an apology, even making up to me, seemed so infinitely fake and impossible and insincere.
You had always been insincere.
I needed sincerity in my life, because I am a sincere person.
You were nothing.

Open Letter to You

I just wanted to say a few things to you that will never be said to your face because you are too much of a coward to say a word to me and I am not crawling back into your arms of my own accord.
Fuck you.
Now that we got that out of the way...
I am so angry at you, I could hit you. Multiple times. I am so hurt by you, I could cut. I am disappointed in you I could cry.
The funny thing is, I expected this and I couldn't believe it at the same time.
I dyed my hair because you didn't want me to.
I made out with our favorite awkward guy that has a crush on me. You know who I am talking about.
Not very many people around me liked how you treated me or how you treated girls in general.
You are relationship impaired.
Get a clue.
You are ridiculously abrasive and judgmental.
You don't have an ounce of the passion that I have, for anything.
I think about you every day without fail, hopefully that behavior will subside.
I want this part to be over, I want you to move. I want you to never be happy again. I want you to get yourself in order, and stop treating girls badly.
There were so many things I liked about you, but now every time I think about those things, it's tainted. It feels like you never meant anything you said.
In the end, I'll be better, even though I am sad for now and you don't care for one minute that you did this to me, and you aren't even sad.
I am ending this chapter on you. And not reading it again.

Over The Spaghetti

Oh My God.
This I thought to myself as I cried over the plate of angel hair with olive oil and parmesan cheese that I had just made for dinner.
It shouldn't have to feel this way.
This I knew, and yet, this I ignored.
I thought about all the things that made me most upset. I thought about how he canceled our plans to go out with other people on Wednesday night and how that made me feel like I wasn't important to him. I thought about how much he missed his ex-girlfriend and how that made me feel inadequate, and I thought about how that made me wish I was what he wanted. In my heart I had no idea whether he did or not. Or maybe I was just too afraid to admit what my heart already knew. If I didn't say so out loud, it wasn't true.
I thought about what Ryan said. "Some people just can't do relationships."
I burst into tears as if on cue. How could something like that be true, if I still felt like this about him?
Sabrina said I needed to ditch him.
I loved her, and maybe a note rang true in what she had said, but I couldn't do it.
She asked me if it was worth it to put up with this for a month.
I wanted to believe it was.
In my head, I reasoned to myself, if we can make it through this one month happily, it will all be worth it. I don't want to hate him before he leaves. I don't want to have bad memories. I don't want to feel like everything was fake. I didn't want to feel like another failed attempt at him recreating his feelings for Anna.
Yet this was how it felt right now.
So I hung on desperately, sitting alone in the kitchen, crying over my spaghetti. Sniffling quietly and hoping something good would come of this.
Hoping nothing bad would happen anymore.

The Red Balloon

I was SO HAPPY.
And in seconds he decimated me.
Life felt so....so much like it was coming together. I felt so glad to be independent. I felt the adrenaline pump through my veins as I completed task after task, and proved who I was to myself. I felt chills run up and down my body as slipped through the hallways of the biology building.
I even started my homework ahead of time.
And in seconds I lost it.
He ditched me.
Again.
I had begun to notice a pain in my right arm and a slight pain in my chest whenever I got upset. In addition to a twisting, turning stomach. It hurt and I didn't like it. Did I have some kind of condition?
I couldn't even threaten to break up with him because he would just agree.
I couldn't make him come home. I couldn't make him care.
I wasn't good enough.
I was decimated.

Sunset in Sandy

I thought about everything around me.
I wanted a nice house. Not a big house, but a nice, cute little house of my own. I would want someone to help me fill it, but a nice, cute little house would do for now. I wanted ivy growing on my house. I wanted a garden. Filled with vegetables and herbs. I wanted basil and thyme, lavender and rosemary. Tomatoes, zucchini, spinach, lettuce and corn, all with little heads sprouting green and promising from the deep brown earth. I wanted cool air to float in through the windows, smelling clean after a rain. I wanted to hear crickets and water. I want light to cascade through my bedroom.
I wanted to cook. They would be fabulous dishes, dishes that pleased everyone, especially myself. I wanted big tall trees I could climb and fantasize about. I wanted a nice life of my own, filled with all my joie de vivre.
Don't get me wrong, I had rough patches like the best of them. But I was yet to find someone who complimented me in my fascination and joy with the simple, delicious, and beautiful things. It's true my downs could be...down. But I was easily stroked back into a happy mood by joyous things. I was a girl who loved tall trees, pretty dresses, good food, soft kisses, fall leaves, crisp apples, and christmas lights.
I wanted someone to see that.
Even though I knew it was good enough for me that I loved life.

Days Inbetween

It seems so simple.
Just be happy.
A mantra I repeat to myself over and over again. I want to be happy. I can feel the capacity in my bones. But I also feel like I'm losing one of my closest friends. And his idea of helping me cope is to speed the process along.
But I'm happy with him and I can tell him almost anything. Of course, I've never mentioned my scrupulously shaved uni-brow or my odd tendency to draw a heart in pen just below the pinky on my left hand. I wonder why I haven't shared these things with my best friend.
Some days he's happy...other days he's not. I could want nothing more than for him to just pay attention to me, but it feels like to much to ask. Why can't we just be happy for a little while longer? And I'll move on later...
I will, I know I can. I have the strength in me now. After every honest moment he decides to have with me, the crumbling heart ache becomes less jarring. Although I'm still sad and sometimes, I just want him to stop deciding to be honest.
No. It's not that I want him to stop being honest. I just wish the honest didn't hurt me. I wish the honest was that he wanted to be happy with me for a little while longer.
I knew in my heart the best thing was for us to separate when he left. But did that have to be right now?
He made me happy, he was, as I will refer to him ever onward, my boyfriend and love training. Someone has to teach you what it is like. And even though I was never her, he was her. Sort of.
Maybe clinging to him was foolish. But it was what felt good, for now.

Few Lost Thoughts in My Soup

It's tragic really.
I can't stop wanting to be with him even though he hurts me.
All I can really think is, maybe if I was good enough, we could have these last couple months be happy. It's not that long, and he means a lot to me. I want to have at least a happy end, even though what I think would be happy would be to have him forever.
But is that really true?
No.
Because even though I say that's what I want, I know I won't be happy, because he won't be happy. I won't be enough, ever. I'm not right, as he says.
I know he says I am, but how can I be enough if he doesn't want me and is in love with someone else, even publicly?
Does he know how much that hurts me to read, to find a lie like that, publicly instead of privately?
For everyone to see.
I was coming to terms with it ending, the little glimmer of happiness as I knew the months would speed by and I would be alone again. In a month or so after his leaving, he would find another woman, probably of the red head persuasion, and she would fill the spot in his bed next to him, not I.
A space that I could never completely fill, no matter how much I tossed, turned, and spread.
And I would be alone. Faced with the task of filling my own bed, and stemming my leaking heart, while he, as is his way, felt nothing, no remorse at leaving me behind so broken. He would stay patched together, as it were, finding the new band-aid to his hopelessly torn asunder heart.
I would find myself again, I knew it.
A small warmth was managed in my fingertips amongst the approaching cold. A small gathering of friends, a man who knew the words to say. He appreciated me and saw me as a kind and caring being. And so the title of my memoirs came to me through our conversation: "Mistakes like Me."
Because he made the mistake, I suppose, of staying with me, of getting with me, or of picking me but not keeping me. Which, I can not be sure. I laughed because maybe someday I might actually write memoirs, if they mean anything in the future.
An image poured into my brain from some other planet. Maybe so many hours at the pool had influenced it, but I saw my body, streamlined and glistening, a snapshot in the blue sparkling water. The power behind my arms and lengths, a strength I greatly missed. Something I wanted back.
I had a passion for life, and I knew it. I just had to regain it in moments like these, when I felt like the only person who cared for me was letting me down. In reality, he shouldn't be so important, and I had good friends who could nurture me back to health. But in truth, I had thought I had found someone who could truly see me.
The intimacy of a relationship is such a wonderful thing. You feel a connection unlike anything else. You feel as if someone sees you for all your good and wishes (for the moment) never to be parted from you. To stay in your life as long as you will let them. That is why it is such a tragedy to break apart. A travesty, if you will. To be ripped apart from what you perceived as such joy, such love, such closeness is completely gone. The one driving force that understood you and saw you for all that you were has not an inch of faith.
And so you must find the faith for yourself, and hope that someday, someone will see that in your eyes and really never, ever part from you again.

Waiting

I lay here in bed unable to fall back asleep after being unable to fall asleep the night before.
My heart is ripping itself inside out, while my stomach tries unsuccessfully to do party tricks. I don't understand the silence.
I left more than enough messages, so calling again would be shame. Who knows if you will answer anyways? But I do call again and still no answer.
It's too early to know. I guess your phone is turned off or on silent, but as to why, I have no answer, and my heart breaks with every unanswered ring.
I don't know what is happening or why you would do this. What explanation is there for this behavior? The worst part is, you provide no explanation.
So I don't know what to do except try to forget that I want you to call.

They're Gonna Get Ya

I lied.
I always lie.
Why do I always lie about my feelings?
Because I don't want people to tell me the solution I most fear.

"Lies lies lies, yeaaaah. They're goin to get ya. Lies Lies Lies yeaaah. They won't forget ya."

~Lies, cover by the Click Five

On the other side of the Glass

It's strange, how your perceptions of people can often be...changed.
How you can perceive people, and yet find that they are completely different.
I know it sounds cliche, but it is so weird to actually experience this feeling for yourself.
Like his roommate. I didn't know much about him, but what I did know convinced me that this guy was just too cool. Like he would look down upon me and who I was, and that he would have a good reason for doing so.
And although he might have still, just a little bit, it was strange to find out he is just as insecure as I am, and a good deal moodier...
Or how people I had crushed on in high school...I fell in love with who I thought they were, and since most of the time they were the quiet type, they never said a word to contradict my thoughts. Haha, what would I have done if they actually liked me back?
I wonder at how many times I have passed through the door to the other side, to see someone differently, to see them inside.
How many people I've missed out on.
How many people I've wasted my time with.
Who could have been a true friend and a real ally, given the chance.
I guess it's all perfect circumstance, and you have to look at whichever side of the looking glass that faces you, keeping in mind it is a reflection of your own thoughts, not theirs, and try to be open and forgiving, so they will let you on the other side.

Questions for You

Did your brother have his computer?
Why was your brother on so much more than you?
Did you forget my phone number?
Did you want to call me?
Did you remember I existed?
Why do you want to stay together when you move?
Will you ever love me?
Will you ever love me more than her?
Why did you stay with her for so long if she treated you badly?
Are you staying with me for the same reason?
Are you afraid you will look like a huge dick if you break up with me?
Are you going to even try to get a hold of me when you get back?
Are you willing to make a plan?
Do you know how lonely I was for two weeks?
Did it matter?
Why am I freaking out?
Is it justified?
This girl said that once a girl shows a little independence, the guy comes crawling back, but then once they are together again, the problems start again. Is that us?
How am I going to handle being away from you for months at a time?
What are you going to do to help me get over that?
Can we make it?

Heat and Flame

It's been awhile.
July has flown by so fast.
The sun beats down and I know someday these rays will cause me skin cancer. In the moments of space, that I trail off and find other thoughts, I fear. Only, I still perform well at my job.
I jumped in today. Twice. Both times someone else made it there first, but I made the situation known. It was I who was observant enough to see. It was also I who felt the adrenaline pumping through my veins, and the uncontrollable shaking that accompanied such a life or death moment. I was the hero in my head.
My fear had overtaken me. Two weeks, with only two emails, two very brief instant message conversations, and one short wall post. Did I mention one of those emails was exceptionally short? I knew that time was passing quickly and happily for him, but for me the days had been torture.
I began to question my ability to live with this for months, for two years, maybe longer.
I didn't believe I could do it with a fair amount of commitment and a plan.
In my heart I feared neither thing would come to fruition.
And so in the heat and sun I waited, inching myself closer to death.
Feeling alone, sleeping alone, living alone.
I felt disastrously like I had no one to turn to.
And it was this that scared me the most. Not for my own feelings, but for his reproach. I didn't want to give him any reason to give up on me.
As I feared he inevitably would.

Summer Spark

It wasn't like I was being dishonest...
With the smell of chlorine and sunscreen, I was back in the summer of flip-flops, top 40 stations, windows rolled down, music pumped. Long sunsets and swim suits ruled the day.
I was beginning to notice an extreme boost in confidence from my old self. Going over old emails and messages, I saw how much I had changed. I couldn't believe I had written some of those things...but I had. I was so...insecure.
The new confidence came with a new set of social rules. Suddenly, I had male attention. That was different...but I suppose when you are confident and chatty, something just...resonates. By no means was I the most adored girl in the world, or attracting super hotties (apparently just 13 year olds at the pool) but I was getting attention from unexpected places (and no, not just the 13 year olds). It was like I could just bask in the attention. By no means was I stringing these guys along (at least I hope I wasn't) but I was allowing them to pay attention to me. I could be chatty and confident without having to worry if they liked me or wanted to go out with me. I already had that base covered.
My favorite summer analogy applies here:
The days melted like twin cherry popsicles; sticky and sweet.
It wasn't my traditional summer by any means, but I liked how it felt. I could be a confident girl, and be free from worry. I could live in the world of summer. Albeit real possibility being gone, which was exciting but slightly stressful, I could have the summer days of my favorite novels. I could have them sticky and sweet.

Cold Defeat

I woke up this morning late, feeling hopeless.
I was afraid the things I felt were apathy, sinking in slowly. I waited to hear from him all day and the phone remained silent and still. I guess I still had the greater part of the day, but it still felt unlikely and cold, even in the heat of summer.
I had a brief moment where I thought about how I would feel if I were single. I wondered to myself, would I be horribly crushed? My sneaking suspicion was that I would be fine, even happier not to have to worry if he chose to speak to me every day, to wonder if he was thinking about me, the constant fear that he didn't really want to be with me because of me.
Would the apathy sink in and our lives merely become a series of motions, feeling obligated not to hurt the other?
Maybe it was because he was away. Maybe because I didn't see him, I felt this way. I wanted to stop worrying if he cared.

I'm Only Sleeping

An odd sensation washed over me.
I was beginning to be more mellow.
I was acknowledging my inability to do anything about the way he felt about me. It was up to him. The summer melted into numerous days without him. Sure, I still wanted to see him. But I was getting more chill about it. Oh yeah I was still high maintenance. For sure. But just...less.
Was I becoming laid back or apathetic?
I knew he was still like my best friend, and my boyfriend. I shared everything with him, from secrets to kisses. We felt...less serious and that was kind of ok. I didn't want to be less serious forever, but it would do for now. Question was, would we ever become more serious about each other? That's what I wanted, but I didn't know if that's what we'd be. I would see.
I needed to talk to him.

"When I wake up early in the mornin', raise my head, I'm still yawning. When I'm in the middle of a dream, close my eyes, float upstream. Please don't spoil my day, I'm miles away, I'm only sleeping."
~ I'm Only Sleeping, The Beatles

I'll Eat My Candy With The Pork and Beans

I thought about Mark again today.
It was silly because I was just thinking about what would happen when we finally worked together again. And strangely enough, I didn't care. I didn't care what he thought.
Because I was living a life I could be proud of for once.
Life had taken me so many unimaginable places lately...it had put me in a fairly healthy relationship (far healthier than I would have been with him), it had given me leadership opportunities I had risen to, and it had granted new and meaningful friendships. I was different inside and outside. I was more confident. I wasn't the same girl he tried to take advantage of.
It just didn't matter. It didn't matter at all.
I was who I was, quirks and all. I had learned to be more proud of them, and more free with my emotion. I know it might be sad, but to have someone else recognize me for those things, and point them out and want to be with me because of them really gave me confidence. I wanted to hold on to that confidence. And I think I would, from now on. Sure I had low points, but I was proud of who I was.
Mark who?

"I'mma do the things that I wanna do, I ain't got a thing to prove to you. I'll eat my candy with the pork and beans, excuse my manners if I make a scene. I ain't gonna wear the clothes that you like, I'm fine and dandy with the me inside. One look in the mirror and I'm tickled pink, I don't give a hoot about what you think."
~Pork and Beans, Weezer

Looking Like A Sucker Fish

I wanted to hold on to this moment desperately.
And it stayed so far.
I didn't want to show him any weakness, but I knew I would I knew I needed to get over that fear because it had only made things worse lately. I was upset on for more occasions than I actually needed to be.
Falling asleep and waking up with him was honestly the best moments. Although they were fleeting, and now few and far between, I felt the comfort in us just being ourselves together. I hated being crazy. But when he dealt with it, it made it all the better. I made a note in my head that if he had to deal with it to much, he might leave me. So I would save it for the worst breakdowns. We fit together and it felt so nice. To fit with someone.
I thought of the small happy moments. I thought of how outwardly we made a nice picture. Not that something like that was the only that mattered, but it was nice to know that how we felt about each other reflected so nicely in reality.
I remember the lady at that restaurant telling us how cute we were, and how that shot a happy shoot right up through the middle of my rib cage., and exploded in my throat. It was obvious how happy he made me. I was hoping I could shed my insecurities so they wouldn't affect him anymore.
I thought of all the things he does for me, all the times he helped me when I asked, paid for my meal, did something because he knew I liked it, walked me to class even though he was tired, and tried to please me. I wanted him to see I appreciated those things. I wanted to please him.
In my mental checklist, I resolved to work on my insecurity issues. So we could be us still. So we could be we and be happy.

"Here I am, looking like a sucker fish against the glass."
~ Fist by Fictionist

Plastic Provo

I could practically see the gleam of fakeness resonating from them.
I was at his concert and I had this extremely uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach. I watched all the people around me. It seemed so ridiculous. They all seemed to be determined to stand out in the most conformist way possible. It was like they were trying to be rebellious in a way that wasn't really that rebellious. And there was traditional style going on, t-shirts and undershirts peeking, long shorts and flats. Nothing was wrong with this look besides that it was way over-used. It was a walking cliche. Three girls in particular drove me insane. They were all glitzed up, almost in a rocker looking style, but it was all in order, every hair in place. I regretted feeling judgment for them, but they seemed surreal, and it made me uncomfortable. I am not sure what it was about them, whether it be the way they carried themselves or the socializing they conducted. But it gave me the shivers, and the acid in my stomach threatened to burn my throat.
One girl made me smile.
She was wearing these ridiculous parachute pants with lots of chains, and had dark scraggly hair. All her clothes were black. But watching her, I truly fell in love with her personality. Every once in a while, a real, genuine smile would light up her face, showing the gap in her teeth. She was so imperfect, she was perfect to me. I can't tell you what it was about her, but I knew she was misunderstood, and didn't feel seen for who she was, but was happy all the same, and a very sweet girl.
I left content never to experience high school again, glad of where I was and who my friends were, and how genuine and intellectual they were. Or how caring.
People who strove to better themselves, and possibly, the world.

Terror

I was so afraid of the judgment of others I kept this to myself.
Which wasn't exactly the best idea.
I guess I shared it here, but I knew no one read it, so I was free to say it. I let out my frustrations and sadness, but I had no one to talk to about it, no one I felt that would care.
I was so afraid that by admitting the small faults in our relationship to others, I would receive harsh judgment. I was afraid they would tell me to break up with him, and that it served me right for getting back together with him. I didn't want that kind of attention. I wanted them to listen free of judgment. But they already judged him for hurting me before. So I kept it to myself, worried. I knew relationships were hard, and had no perfect happiness. Which is why I stuck with him. Because he did make me happy. I wish people could understand that. That I needed to talk to people about the things that made me upset, and that I was ok.
I was so afraid.

Don't Talk to Me

It was a good day.
The events of the previous day seemed so silly. At least the sad parts. I couldn't believe it. I felt happy. I wanted to hold on to this for as long as I could.
As luck would have it, this feeling didn't last.
I don't know what it is. I don't know why I feel sad. Maybe it is because I am away from him and time feels short. I try to blame the problems of my hormones on other things (which at this point, seem highly probable) but that doesn't stop how I feel. So I buckle down on the roller coaster and wonder why I let my hormones speak to me.

Sweet Drops of Summer

Today I made the conscious decision to be happier.
And guess what?
I was.
The day was perfect. He came home early from work (although I felt bad about that), we ran errands, made dinner, watched a movie...cuddled. The whole time was perfect. It was in the last moment that I fell.
I was thinking to myself everything was going to be okay again, just like I always thought. And just like always happened, I came down.
And then, he woke me as he got up. I waited 15 silent minutes to come back. He had seemed like he would. He had seemed like he was just getting water. But he didn't come back and the last happy drops of the moment were squandered.
I didn't want to be upset. I didn't.
But he didn't come back.

How Am I Supposed to Pretend I Never Want to See You Again?

It absolutely broke my heart.
I felt like we were over.
Again.
I didn't trust him, so he didn't feel close to me. And because he didn't feel close to me, I lost hope. I didn't trust him more. And so the circle continued. I felt like I had permanently broken it. Like I wasn't good enough to keep it going. I wish I could just trust him and he could just love me. I felt like that was never going to happen. One was not going to happen before the other, at least that's how I felt.
So we were stuck in this weird sort of impasse.
He was never going to love me again.
And that absolutely broke my heart.

"How am I supposed to pretend I never want to see you again?"
~ From Campus by Vampire Weekend

Moments

There were days I was perfectly happy and perfectly fine.
And I would think to myself, wow, I can be happy, I can do this. But then something would bring down my cloud.
And I wouldn't be fine.
I would be paranoid or angry or sad. Usually just sad. Because for some strange reason, I felt like I was losing. Like there was some huge part of him I knew nothing about. I tried to realize it, but it was this life I couldn't participate in. It was this life of drinking, being a music snob, traveling on a whim, moving away, that I couldn't be a part of. That was all separate from me. And that kind of hurt.
I wanted all of him and I couldn't even grasp it.
I felt my grip slipping on what little I had a hold of.
He was growing away from me.
I didn't hate it. It just felt like an end.
An end I couldn't make longer, an end I couldn't draw out, or even fix.
I wanted him to tell me I was the sun in his sky.
But that would never happen.
I would never be the only girl he looked at, laughed with, or lived for.
I may be at the top, but how sturdy was the top anyway?
It had come crumbling down before, I had become next to nothing.
I didn't want that.

A Bee Sting on A Perfect Summer Day

Didn't she remember what it was like to be my age?
There was no relenting on the judgment. I was going out for a walk, with her. And for what. To have her tell me I needed to change. I didn't want to change. I had enough judgment in my life to not want any from her about my outfit. It was comfy. I liked my pajama pants and they were my chaco flip flops. The comfy ones. I wouldn't have a problem getting up the hill in those. And fuck the neighbors. I don't care if my top was skimpy. It wasn't that bad. It wasn't even spaghetti strap and I liked how it looked. It wasn't fair. I didn't care if it was Sunday. I wasn't going to buy in to this stupid neighborhood, I did not care. I was free to dress how I liked and I didn't think it looked bad. Plus, it was summer and it was hot. Fuck the damn neighbors and their damn judgment.
And to add insult to injury, he was not gone. Well, he was, but not forever. Although I had scoured the schedule, he was merely in Europe. God help me, he was coming back. Mark Russell was coming back to invade my perfectly happy life. I don't know how I was going to handle him. But maybe if I was lucky since I went to school in the day I would never have to deal with the perfectly miserable creature. Apparently he had kept busy in my absence with many women and multiple sexual partners. God the man was a walking STD.
No one said it better than Heidi, the girl I barely wanted to speak to, but totally agreed with in her moments. I could have done so much better than him. And I did. I did SO much better. Blame it on the summer haze...but I had been deluded, and would be deluded no more. However, after cutting off all communication with someone, you kind of burn the bridges and open yourself up to scorn. Not that it didn't need to be done...oh wow how it needed to be done. But...dealing with him was going to be difficult.
Way to start out the summer.

Shades of Green and Blue

I began to wonder what we really had in common.
I began to wonder if this would really work.
It was like an itch I wanted to scratch, but knew I shouldn't. I didn't want to question our coupledom against this. But it was like I couldn't get away from her. Or didn't want to.
She is watching that show. She is watching dollhouse. He is watching dollhouse. The coincidence seemed...well strange. Until I found out she was taking a swing class. He had taken a swing class. It seemed to me more and more like they made more of a perfect couple than I ever would. It felt sad.
I began to wonder if I was crazy.
I began to wonder why he didn't just get rid of me already.

Ouch.

Sometimes...life hurts.
Sometimes...people lie to you for no good reason.
I couldn't reasonably be mad. I knew the reasoning. It was too late for me, I had class, I was underage, but...I was still upset. Because it felt like a secret. And I hate secrets. I got less than half an hour. How was that fair?
I knew there was no way I could have been around or included.
I knew I would have been a hassle to hang out with. I would have had to be driven home. But I was willing to make concessions. Hmmm.
I didn't want to feel bad. I didn't want to jump to the worst possible conclusion. But the way he clicked out of it so fast, it felt like he didn't want me to see it. It felt like a secret.
I hate secrets.

Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Was it reaction or was it real?
I had to seriously bite my tongue not to spill out the words that threatened so desperately to escape.
I love you.
Love you.
They wanted out.
But I was afraid. So afraid. So afraid I would make him uncomfortable, so afraid I would push him too far. So afraid he would lie to me again just to make me happy.
Grrr. Why did this have to be so hard?
I love you.

Magic

There are certain things in life that feel...like magic.
Today I felt the need to express myself with words, as I haven't felt in awhile. There was a soft rain, that I hadn't noticed until I could smell the after-rain smell wafting in through the screen door. I thought maybe that meant rain was to come, but it had already rained.
After it rains, everything smells fresh. Green. Alive. Like magic. It's so clear and crisp, like nothing else in the world. I pulled on a deep green sweatshirt, still barely worn and feeling a comfy kind of soft that makes you instantly feel warm and cozy, and walked outside. My new backyard is like walking into a miniature version of an over-blown fairytale. There is sprawling growth everywhere, the yard is constantly in bloom, filled with flowers. Ivy stretches out across the lawn almost to a decadent waterfall with huge stones and aquatic plant life. It feels like a fairytale.
I allow myself to revel in it's beauty, swiftly compelled to write.
I am rereading twilight, which may have sparked some of the fantasy juices swirling in my brain. I imagine myself in Forks, or even Oregon or Washington, surrounded by the sweet after-scent of rain and the outrageous green growth covering every surface. It feels like the kind of moment that soothes the soul, a quiet cool that brings me back to life.

Surprise!!!

So...you know when you stumble upon something you should have noticed ages ago?
That is what happened to me today.
It seems like almost a mundane detail, but there is the gift application on facebook. People can give you "gifts" but they cost money...and they are virtual. So no one ever gives gifts unless they are free. I just decided to look through mine, for the fun of it. I noticed some I had kind of forgotten about, but then I noticed this one I hadn't ever seen before.
It was a balloon with two hearts on it, and was anonymous, which meant no one else could see it or who it was from. Only I could see it, and the message, but not who had given it to me. Already slightly suspicious. It said: "I <3 U, that is a terrible looking heart." It was sent on valentine's day of last year. I don't think it meant anything...or did it? I had no idea. In any case, it was a year past, and my idea of who it would have been from was probably a little foggier now that so much time had past. It was nice to wonder at it, consider it a secret admirer, with a secret message, although I was almost positive it was just a friend being nice, trying to cheer me up.
I would never know, but it was nice to think on.

Awareness

I discovered something.
Well, I didn't really just discover it, because I have known about it. I just haven't been completely aware of it.
When I am doing any sort of physical activity and I feel like someone is doing a lot better than me, I quickly lose hope and often get extremely cranky.
I throw borderline tantrums.
Now that I am more aware of this, perhaps I can work on it. Or just work out myself more so I can keep up. I am way out of shape, but when I am in shape this doesn't occur as much. I don't get so pouty.

The Clock is Ticking

I'm pretty sure it's been 24 hours since last contact.
I figured I better get used to it.
But what was the point of being in a relationship if you felt like you were single anyway? If you got all of the restrictions and none of the benefits?
Except, the flip side was a broken heart.
I didn't want to be away from him, but time with him was extremely scarce, and getting more scarce. And now I was hearing from him for 24 hours. I hated this.
I was sure if we were strong enough to make it through 2 years apart. I had no car so it would be next to impossible to visit him, factoring in the parents as well. Especially if he moved to Santa Cruz with Nate.
My mother hated Nate.
And to me, it seemed ludicrous that he didn't know where he was going but he still planned to go. Location seemed a critical point. But it's not like he would tell me where he was going anyhow. He would tell other people, while I was standing there. Even though I had asked him and his response was: "nothing is set in stone."
We needed to talk.
And I didn't know if anything would change.

Recurring Thoughts

He entered my thoughts more often than normal these days.
Maybe it was because it was becoming increasingly possible that by some chance occasion I would see him. I still had no idea if he still worked at Dimple Dell, because it was entirely possible he was a firefighter and didn't work as a lifeguard and swim teacher anymore.
I cringed at the thought of his touch, remembering all too well how shocking it had been, how brazen and shameless he had been, his hands on me. Perhaps I had encouraged him--I didn't want to be a lamb anymore, perfectly innocent and defenseless, unknowing of the world around me. But at the same time he was completely insolent when words left me and I could not express how completely deep the water was for me, and how much it scared me.
That was the past though. Now I just wondered: Would I see him again? And if I did, under what circumstances? I found myself fantasizing about having Max there, flaunting that in a little less than a month I had found a happy, healthy relationship with a man who cared for me. With (by just a tiny bit) more hair than he had! (It was close, you won't believe it.)
Would I see him in Sandy? Would his car pass mine? Would I hike with Max and just happen to run into him and his buddies? Would I see him at work? Did he work there anymore? I found myself entrenched in this morbid curiosity. I just...wanted to prove I had risen above him, that he held no power over me, and that I was better off without him. Was that so bad?
I feared and yet felt indifferent to his judgment, if that made any sense. It would take maybe a week to figure out if he still haunted the building that was Dimple Dell. I would see, I suppose.
I amazed myself as I thought of him. I had been WAY too good for him. And yet I had felt myself struggling to please him, struggling to make him want me. Why had I tried so hard for someone who didn't deserve me? I thought back on his appearance, his manner, his politics, and his personality. I thought of his intelligence. I couldn't help but laugh at all these things. He had dropped out of college, was republican, 26 with barely enough hair to cover his head, was disrespectful to all those around him, especially his mother, and in general, was a loser. What had I been thinking? That he had said he liked me I suppose. This made me want to laugh and cry at the same time.
And I was proud. Because aside from wondering if he was around, I didn't really care if he wanted me back. I could stand tall without him, but I had proven that 9 months ago when I stood up and shut him down, showed him for what he was.
And I was proud of myself for going back, despite how he had wronged me. I had grown.
And the thoughts of him wilted, and would eventually disappear.

Deja Vu

How could I hold myself together when so much seemed to be falling apart?
I could be happy, and I tried to hold on to that. But he was leaving for a week. And to me, everything about him leaving reminded me so much of the last time. He had busy that's true, so I shouldn't be so quick to feel skepticism.
I didn't want to feel this slipping through my fingers. But him leaving meant...separation. Time to think without me. Time to "come to his senses" again.
I was afraid for him to leave and already anxiously awaiting his return.
All I could do was hope he would want me still.

Live Longer

Don't be angry don't be angry don't be angry.
That's what I was going through my head for an opening.
To me, it didn't feel like such an enormous coincidence that she was obsessed with dollhouse and he had been interested. That she liked my status. It made my gut churn, that's what it did.
But I couldn't say anything.
I have not trusted him. I don't know why. I don't really see it as not trusting him. It's more, I feel hurt and I want him to tell me I am imagining things, but tell me the truth. Ease my worries. It's been...almost a year since they broke up? I think...and she still looms. It's so hard for me. If I see him I am fine. Alone missing him, seeing her I am not.
I didn't want him to be angry. I wanted myself to trust him. But guys...just don't have a happy ending for me, as has been so clearly evidenced by all my encounters. I hate that I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, but I can't help it. It won't go away.
I don't want to cry.
But I'm afraid I will.

Life's Like an Hourglass Glued to the Table

Did you ever feel so incredibly numb?
It was the most dangerous moment in a car I had ever experienced. And I didn't care.
I felt so unaware of life. My mind went completely blank. I almost forgot where I was. I could have crashed and died. And I was struggling to care. Everything was just so...blank. I struggled--completely fought to stay alert and alive. But the moments slipped away from me.
I wanted to be alive to my life. I wanted to feel passion and love. But in this moment, this one dangerous moment, I felt nothing. Not love, not passion, not disappointment, not anger, not anything.
I was fast I was slow I braked harshly I turned sharply. Nothing woke me from my daze.
I tripped over words to feel.
Then a song came on.

Another day older, and closer to death

Breathe.
You can do it.
Breathe.
What was my problem anyway? That he didn't text me enough? That his life was going on while mine felt like it had crunched to a standstill?
I felt lonely. Forgotten. Less important. Meaningless. Just another obligation of time to fill in his life that he didn't need. Why? Why did I let myself get manic about this? Why did I sit crying in my bed while I typed the words to push him out? I didn't want to push him out at all. I just wanted him to pay attention. Was this all a dangerous plot for attention? Maybe. Or maybe I just didn't want to feel like the pathetic one. He had thought we weren't healthy. Well. I didn't want to show any signs of unhealthy affection. But I also couldn't deny how I felt. Even if it was manic. That just made things worse. That just made me cry.
I didn't know what the solution was, and I knew he wouldn't either. Which made me wonder why we were still together, even though I couldn't bring myself to let go. I also knew I was being manic. Certain times of year make me manic. Moving in, moving out, finals, grades...staying at my parents' house. It all stressed me out, and contributed to the madness. I didn't know how to tell him I was always like this, and I needed attention he couldn't give, that I couldn't ask him to give.
And worst of all, I love him. And he doesn't love me back.

Million-way Storm

I don't know why I felt so threatened. It was odd really.
He kept saying she had been jealous of girls--he kept saying she made it all about him. And I felt I was falling into this stereotype he hated. And yet haha, she was a threat. Also there were girls I'd know he'd dated he was still semi-close with. And I just felt so terribly on the outside. I knew if I just talked to him about it I would feel better, but the paralyzing fear that I would push him away stopped me.
I feared he would move away and find someone better. He refrained from saying that wouldn't happen, and he had since stopped telling me how good I was for him. I was rained with endless comments of how cute I was, but what I wanted most was gone. That he knew I was right for him. I guess there was no guarantees in life. But oh man, how I wish there was.
I felt myself shutting off from him, no matter how hard I tried.
But every girl who he talked to, hugged, attacked seemed like a potential threat and did a little bit of damage to my self-esteem.
I knew this would be the last thing he would want to hear, so I kept it to myself. No need to drive him away. I felt like I was losing the battle to keep the water cupped in my hands. I just couldn't keep it from leaking through the crack between my fingers.
I began to wonder if I would ever be loved by him again, ever feel that way again, ever feel as though the world was on my side once again.

Take My Hand

Here he was, doing the most unthinkably kind thing without even batting an eyelash.
Not that he would ever in his life bat an eyelash...but you get what I mean.
He was completely and totally surrendering his room. To me. All I had to do was say something and he gave it to me. He jumped through all the hoops housing put him through. And he got his own room.
In my opinion, although it meant less privacy, sharing a room was one of the most fundamentally fun things about moving away from home and going to college. It was the person that you would have normally not gotten to know under any other circumstances in the way you got to know them. And that inspired a sort of closeness. Still, he did get to live in the house. But I personally felt we were denying him some sort of universal rite of passage. It wasn't his fault we all had already decided to room together.
When I looked at him I had to laugh a little inside. He dressed like he hadn't quite figured out what fit him best yet--his jeans were boxy, like the kind you buy for little boys because they grow so fast. And his shoes were punk skater high school shoes with socks above his ankles. Hopefully with a year out of the house we would cure him of this. Ah. Another project in the making, I thought to myself. I was already planning on becoming extremely close with all my new found housemates.
They all had huge hearts...just like mine. I was ready to do this!

"Take my hand, there's a world I need to know, oh woh oh oh."
~ Phil Collins, from the Tarzan soundtrack

Eternal Sunshine on the Spotless Mind

I was entirely too grumpy.
Why did sucking at sports bug me right now? It had never bugged me before. Before I had just accepted it as a normal part of my existence. It was just something about me I couldn't really change. It wasn't his fault I was crappy at it, and seemed to get crappier. He even put it away. I could tell I was being cantankerous, but I found it hard to care even though I KNEW I was getting on his nerves. Mental note: try not to be such a brat.
Then he didn't want to pick me up. I was angry about that even though I knew why he didn't want to. So I did the right thing after complaining. I went and got his backpack that he forgot and rode trax. But then I ruined it by complaining about time lost together. That just made me more upset.
There is another point here I will make in a minute.
When I came, he was tired and he fell asleep. I desperately wanted him to notice I wasn't talking. But I knew he would take this as me being tired. Or did he? I don't know. I didn't fall asleep for a half an hour. Most of that time I stared at the ceiling wishing he would notice I was awake.
I knew it wasn't his fault but I wanted to talk to him.
Because today I saw someone.
No one I knew but a girl wearing a sorority sweatshirt.
Only, that's not what I noticed first. First I noticed her legs.
She was wearing heels, walking along. For some reason her legs triggered a response. I immediately thought of her. The girl I wanted more than anything to outclass. I wanted to be more beautiful, more charming, more loveable than her. And those legs brought me quickly into focus. Or out of focus, as the case may be. I don't know why this was bugging me lately, but I felt...I felt as if he hadn't been ready. As if he had deluded himself into thinking he was ready to pursue something with someone else and I was just an unfortunate casualty. The memories of her constantly were dredged up. And never having been in any kind of relationship, I had to wonder. Did he just keep moving to avoid the pain?
Again I was the unfortunate casualty.
I wanted to know...hopefully knowing wouldn't destroy me.

Heart Sunglasses

It was funny.
I wasn't the kind of girl who always liked to look put together and professional.
I wasn't the girl who always had to have every hair in place, nails perfect, makeup perfect, clothes perfect.
I wasn't the girl who blended in.
I wasn't the girl who dressed maniacally sexy.
I wasn't beautiful.
I found myself slipping into a sort of cuteness. Everyone would agree. An adjective used to describe me was cute. I would still prance around in skirts, rain galoshes, and heart sunglasses. (although I've never worn these all at the same time, I'm willing to try ;)) My face was just...one of those cute faces. Mostly. I didn't ever feel like my style said much else. I was a lace girl.
Would there be a time I would be more?

"If looks could kill, they probably will in games without frontiers, war without tears."
~ Peter Gabriel

Deep Stupidity

So...sometimes I did things even though I knew they would make me upset.
Seems kind of masochistic, doesn't it?
I sift through the information, just waiting for the tears to come pouring down my face or the knife to twist in my heart. It was hard to pretend like nothing had happened, like what had happened wasn't real, like it didn't still hurt me to think of the things that had been said and the things that had been done. I had laid in bed, crying for hours over those things.
I couldn't help that I had been a spy and still was. I went back to the times I knew had been hard and painful. Why did I do that? Why did I dwell on this? Because it hadn't broken me almost completely through. That's why.
So...putting the pieces back together wasn't so easy. Especially if I kept picking the scabs. I was a scab picker...great.
I wanted fully to believe that he loved me, but I didn't know if he would ever say those words again.

Whispers in the Dark

I am not going to lie.
There are days when I wonder if getting back together with him was the right choice.
Life feels...so different now. More than ever I feel the insecurity closing in on me, thinking that I'm just an accessory to his life, just this mindless need that really, he could just do without and not someone important in his life.
Someone asks me how things are going. I pause a moment before saying things are good. Things aren't bad. It's just...I want to say things are ok. But I don't. Because I know that their next question will be: "Why just ok?"
Things haven't been as good as they used to be. But I guess that's just all in the perspective. Before I didn't care about skipping class or not studying...now I felt the pain of those things. I felt my life as I made bad decisions. But I didn't feel as in love with him as I did. I didn't feel faith in him caring about me. I felt like an annoyance. Well, maybe I wouldn't go that far. But I felt like a nice accessory. Something you take out of the drawer and wear, use when you want to.
I kept my annoyances to myself because I knew what everyone else would say.
They would tell me I would have to deal. Because I got back with him. They would take it as a sign that they were right about him and I was wrong. Which I didn't want to believe. The thought of breaking up (dare I even say it aloud) made me want to curl up and die.
I cared about him. I just wanted to know he cared as much about me. I wanted him to do something romantic like he used to, when he was trying desperately to win my heart. I was a hopeless romantic and it showed. I got into people's heads and tried my best to find sweet things to do for them, things they needed and would appreciate, things they would see as an extra cute effort.
Like his birthday coming up. I wanted to do something super special. Lots of things swam through my head, all of them equally fabulous, at least I thought.
And I wanted to know he had stop caring about her.
That girl who had given me trouble from the start.
Because remnants her always tended to pop up and they made me feel small.
It was like I was waiting for them to show up, because they always did.
And they always made me feel miserable.
Hold me close, and whisper to me in the dark all the things I want the most to hear.
Love me instead.

"I can't tell you that I won't hurt you, but I'll promise to try. Everybody wants a piece of pie honey, but I just want him alive."

I wasn't actually sure why I was upset.
I could kind of feel like I was overreacting. And the fact that I was wrong for some reason drove me to more anger. Like the fact that I was the problem made me horribly sad, and the way I reacted to that was to be as upset as possible to see if he would still care for me.
I played by an odd set of rules.
And I hated being wrong.
Or rather, not being wrong, but being a problem.
I just wanted him to want me no matter how horrible I was to him. And granted, I wasn't really all that bad, but I did create points of tension every now and again. I gave him a hard time, and even though he made it clear some of the things upset him. I was joking, wasn't I?
I didn't know anymore.
From this moment on I was going to try to be more conscious of his needs. I was aware sometimes with the people I was closest to I was the neediest.
"I can't tell you that I won't hurt you, but I'll promise to try. Everyone wants a piece of pie honey, I just want him alive."
~ From Swing Gently by Leona Naess

Tangled Child

Yet again, it's been awhile folks. Whoever is out there listening, if anyone.
I know what we were talking about was hypothetical and lame but...it bugged me.
So don't think I'm crazy, but we were kind of talking about wedding invitations. It's not what you are thinking...there was an old one from one of our fellow site leaders on the fridge in my house. He was saying that when he got married, he wouldn't do the whole crazy invitation thing and his wife would just understand he didn't want it.
And so I talked about "his wife." Like she was this imaginary woman we couldn't even fathom. And that bugged me. It's not that I wanted to get married to him. It wasn't really that at all. But it was that if we dated long enough I could see that happening. So him referring to his wife as this separate entity made me so sad. Call me crazy. Maybe Utah is just rubbing off on me a little too much. But I did want to get married someday. And maybe someday that could be him. Not today of course. Oh no. But....
It was like he could see no future for us. This was the problem we had had before. We didn't have that long of a shelf life. And that hurt me. September was our ultimate deadline and it was looming. Summer would be hard...so much space. I worked a lot and I know he did too. That didn't help my nerves. It was shortening the deadline somehow.
I felt nervous again.
And I found myself being annoyed by stupid things. Girls paying attention to him. The attention he provided them because of that. Oh. Why did that bug me? I knew they thought he was cool, even if he couldn't see it. And it made me angry. I could see the wheels in their heads calculating when we would break up, waiting for the moment. I could see them smiling at the small victory of winning his attention instead of mine.
Man.
I'm crazy.