To the parent, friend, or lover. To you or to me. To the one who left when they said they never would.
You're dead. You have been for a long time.
The thing is, you're still breathing and your heart is beating.
You aren't dead.
You're so alive that it makes me wonder if maybe I have died instead. Someone wise once said something that goes, "the hardest thing you will have to do is grieve the loss of someone who is still alive." That's the truth if I've ever heard it.
You're gone but I know you're out there existing a perfectly good life in a perfectly wonderful world that doesn't include me. You are dead, but I have never seen someone so alive. Your eyes probably still light up the same, as if you have forgotten about me completely. Maybe you have, but I think I might be okay with that. It is easier that way.
If you really died, I would've worn black to your funeral, to mourn the loss of someone I loved so deeply. It's appropriate to wear black. Everyone always wears black and sits around sobbing. Except maybe I would've worn yellow, since it was your favorite color after all. Like sunshine, bumble bees, and scrambled eggs on a Sunday morning. I would have lit up that whole damn funeral in my pretty yellow dress but you wouldn't have been there to see it. Everyone would be doing their share of crying, because that's what a perfectly flawed human you were, but you're still alive and the only one left to mourn you is me. There was no funeral because you aren't dead, but you left me like maybe you were.
Now whenever I hear a siren out the window on a cold night my heart skips a beat and I wonder if it's you.
When the phone rings and I pick it up to silence, I hope it's you on the other end.
And you used to scold me for never wearing sunblock but I haven't burned a summer day since then. It's my record of Wish You Were Here playing on repeat. How I wish, how I wish you were here. It's a 5 minute and 36 second song with only three verses, but somehow it keeps playing over and over again as my head sinks into the pillow and I think oh how I wish you were here.
I never knew true sadness until I was weeping in the bathtub and was unsure if it was the spout water that filled the basin or my tears
and
I never knew true loneliness until I was boarding the plane and turned to wave goodbye but you had already walked away
and
I never knew true fear until you were across the room from me holding the bottle of prescription pills and I couldn't reach you fast enough
and before I graduated high school I would wander the empty hallways searching for your laugh or a misplaced memory until I forgot why I was wandering at all.
It's when I was showering and the water was so scorching that it burned my skin, but I didn't realize until I looked at myself in the mirror and saw red splotches painted across my body. That letter I sent that came back stamped "return to sender" still haunts me when I sleep.
We went chasing pavements but found the place where the sidewalk ends and I fell off.
I saw the cigarette dangling from your fingertips and I wanted to reach out and cinch the flame but knew I would burn myself trying to save you.
It's the doctor saying I know this will hurt before injecting me with a needle, but feeling no pain at all. When I got my wisdom teeth out and they told me to count down from ten, but I got lost by seven.
You are the abstract paintings at the museums that everyone looks at and pretends to understand. You remind me of Psalm 147:4; counting the stars and calling them all by name as if you rule the universe and sprinkled the stars across the black sky yourself.
And I hope your heart is as full as you made me empty.
It was the muttered words, clenched teeth, and white knuckles that told me you had died. I had known for awhile that you were gone, but I didn't want to hear it. If I had to hear it, then I would know it was real. And I don't know exactly when the goodnight changed to goodbye but since then you've been dead, and I decided that if I had to be haunted by a ghost I'm glad it's you.
And it's never the people who die who are in pain, but the ones who are left behind.
That's for everyone who left when you needed them the most. Now you know you never needed them at all.
Until next time xxx.
Sunday, October 9, 2016
Friday, September 16, 2016
10 Things I Learned in the First 4 Weeks of College
1. Going to class is actually important. In high school, you could get away with missing a week here and a few days there, but you miss one class in college and you're doomed. Get your ass out of bed and drag yourself to class. I think there have been moments when I have literally dragged myself to class and have made my friends pull me along the sidewalk just to sit through another boring lecture. It's worth it.
2. Make friends with the people you live with. This doesn't mean just your roommate, but the people on your floor. You're stuck with them for a year, so why not try and get along? You could make some life long friends while you're at it. Just socialize. You can form a little family along the way, and nothing is cuter than that.
3. People will be smarter than you, and they'll make sure you know it. I took a 60 question test today, and people pranced out of there in the first 20 minutes. It reminds me of how my dad told me someone in his college math class turned to him to let him know he got a perfect score on his SAT. Whatever. This is college not the damn amazing race.
4. Partying gets repetitive and exhausting. I mean yay shots for everyone I guess, but waking up with a churning stomach and pounding headache isn't such a party. It is possible to have fun without drinking. I did it all the time in high school, but with all this new freedom and all your friends drinking, it seems impossible not to. Take a sober weekend or two and I don't know, watch a movie or catch up on your Z's. But really, catch up on your Z's.
5. Hall-cest is not best. Ever heard of incest? Well, yeah. If you're hooking up with someone on your floor you're committing hall-cest. Now that should be illegal. Like I said, you'll become like a little family with your floor mates. You can't hook up with your practical family that's just disgusting. Plus, if it doesn't work out you'll have to look at their stupid face everyday and want to throw up. Just don't do it.
6. You'll miss home cooked meals. And your bed and your annoying siblings and bossy parents and barking dog. You'll miss the repetitiveness and simplicity of your old life believe it or not. You miss home, but you'll find a new home, too. Home's where the heart is or something like that.
7. It'll be easy to eat gross food, but it's almost easier to eat fruits and vegetables. It's the one thing you know won't make you want to throw up. Honestly, even thinking about some of the dining hall food is enough to make my stomach flip.
8. You'll walk more now than you ever have in your entire existence. It's painful, but at least you'll be toned, right?
9. You will encounter some of the most interesting people on the planet. From the whack Christian extremists who let you know you're going to hell, to aspiring movie and pop stars, to the next Einstein, you'll find it all on campus. It's enlightening. It makes all the crazy people from back home seem somewhat... normal. Maybe not normal. I wouldn't go that far, but definitely less weird.
10. A breakdown is inevitable. I've lost it a couple times, but hey what can you do? The homesickness can really get to you. But it's all okay. This is a new place and you have endless opportunities ahead. You'll be just fine. Carpe diem, my friend. Carpe diem.
Until next time xxx.
Thursday, July 7, 2016
For Every Senseless Act of Violence and Hate
Finally I'm back, but it's for all the wrong reasons. Yes I've been doing plenty of writing, but I haven't posted for awhile only because I haven't come up with anything important enough to share. Well now it's time and this is important. It's important to me, our country, this world, and hopefully to you.
Pray for Orlando
Justice for Alton Sterling
Justice for Philando Castile
Black Lives Matter
and tonight we are left with Pray for Dallas
All of it is filling up your Twitter and Facebook feeds, coming through the radio, and every time you change the channel on your TV you're left staring at breaking news of another tragic event. I'm beyond angry and sad over everything that is unfolding not only across the world but just in our country alone. So it's time to talk about it.
Just days ago we were celebrating in red, white, and blue. Backyard BBQs, cold beer, fireworks, and waving flags around with every ounce of joy in our bodies. Isn't America the best? Land of the free, home of the brave.
I ask you, how the hell can we be living in the greatest country in the world when blood is shed each day in senseless acts of violence and hate? Don't get me wrong, I love America. I know you're probably angrily reading this, hating me with each word. America is the greatest country in the world, how dare she say it isn't?! Well how dare you say that it is? This country needs some work. Wake up. We are far from perfect.
Listen closely, and read less angrily: I am beyond grateful to live the life that I do in this country. I wouldn't trade it for anything, and I understand I have a lot more than most people in this world. But it is time for a change.
After the absolutely awful shooting at the nightclub in Orlando, I was texting with my grandma. She said that this world is different from when she was growing up. She was born in 1947, and was my age in the 60s. She said during her childhood and even most of her adult life, nothing horrific like what happened in Orlando ever occurred. If something similar to it did unfold, it was rare. It was nothing like what we see today.
The power to turn this country around is in our hands. It is up to all of us. Not just Mr. President and our representatives and the other politicians. We are all people. We can all do something. Together. Isn't that an interesting concept? Unity. It's a beautiful thing. If I can recall correctly... I believe we are living in The United States of America. Is that right? It sure doesn't feel like it lately.
I'm not going to get in to gun laws and all that because that's an entirely different post. What I do have to say is this: it is time for love and peace. It is time to stop talking about it, and time to start showing it. Actions speak louder than words and that will always remain true. So instead of saying "oh wow world peace would be nice," go out into the world and love people. Show strangers kindness.
Because bottom line (oh I know you're not supposed to start a sentence with "because." Every one of my english teachers is cringing) but bottom line is we are human beings. It really is that simple. We are all living on this earth together.
Enough of the "well they are gay and I'm straight and homosexuality is a sin and oh they're black but see my skin is white so they need to stick with their kind and maybe if they weren't in a gay nightclub they wouldn't have been shot and that person is a Democrat but I'm a Republican so I don't like them and their opinions are stupid and irrelevant and everyone who isn't just like me is going to hell so let's build a wall because..." Enough is enough. It honestly sickens me that I have heard people speak this way. These words have come out of people's mouths and it repulses me. Instead of building walls, we should be knocking them down. You're an American, they're a Mexican. He's French and she's Brazilian. What does it matter? We all call this world our home.
I could care less who you're attracted to and who you love. Your skin is black, they are pale, and maybe in the summer I have a tan. Who the hell gives a damn?
My hair is brown, straight, and long. People exist with blonde, black, and red hair. Some people don't have any hair at all. Sometimes they dye it purple, green, or blue. It can be curly or wavy or straight. Long or short. Does that mean I should kill everyone who doesn't have long, brown, straight hair like me? No. Never would that even cross my mind. Yet when it comes to the color of someone's skin, suddenly people feel justified in judging others for it. People are judged off of the color of their skin, something they can't help at all. It's beyond ridiculous.
Now we have police killing innocent people for no reason at all. These police were not under attack, struggling for their lives, and forced to fire their weapons. They killed to kill, or for whatever other reason they are saying. It was senseless. A man has just been shot and is bleeding out with his girlfriend and her four year old daughter in the car. The officer is still aiming his gun at the man, who is clearly in no position to harm anyone, blood spreading over his white shirt. As a citizen, my expectations and hopes for an officer would be to help this man until a medical team arrived, instead of standing there and watching him die. Watching the video posted by the victim's girlfriend made me want to crawl under a rock and never come out. But I can't do that. You can't either. We have to take a stand against this. Tonight four officers are dead and many others wounded at the hands of snipers. Plenty of police officers and others in law enforcement are out in the community to protect us, not to kill. Yet these innocent men were shot for no reason. Again, no reason.
We can't be killing innocent people, no matter their skin color, and we can't be killing officers either. I say "we" because we are all a part of this. Sure, not everyone is firing a gun, but you know what they used to tell us in school. If someone is being bullied and you don't do anything about it, you're partly to blame for the bullying. Standing around and doing nothing is almost as bad as doing something bad. So let's do something good.
Of course, I wish I wasn't writing this. I wish that Dallas wasn't trending on Twitter right now. I wish millions of broken hearted family members and friends weren't enduring the pain of the loved ones lost to senseless acts of violence and hate. If I could erase it all, rewind time, and make it all go away I would. I think we all would.
Whoever you are reading this, I hope this isn't the type of world you want to live in. Whether you're 70 years old, or 14, I hope you don't want your children to live in a world like this. I hope that you want better. We should always be looking for ways to better this planet, and spreading kindness is a way to start.
Imagine sitting in a room. You are with 99 other people. Together, you are 100. There are no doors, so no one can leave. You each have a match in your pocket. The room is bright and you can see everyone around you. No one understands why they have a match, because there is already so much light. Suddenly, the room is plunged into darkness. All the light is gone. For several minutes, everyone stands in darkness. Some get sad, or annoyed, and others angry. People are confused. Some stay silent. You all still stand in darkness. Time passes. People are upset that they were put in a room that suddenly turned dark, so they respond with more darkness. Finally, one person lights a match. The room is no longer completely dark. Slowly, more and more people light matches. Some still stand, refusing to contribute to the light, but after awhile, there is finally enough light to see the people around you again. All it took was one person to light their match.
You see, as MLK Jr. said, all that can push out hate is love. Only the light can conquer the darkness. Not everyone on this earth (or in the room) are going to want to create change. They will stand by in their own dark world. But you can light a match, and encourage those near you to do the same. The darkness and this hate can be overpowered. It will be overcome, because I truly believe that eventually the pure goodness in this world will win over any evil. It takes time and work, but it can and will be done. This generation was perhaps given such a difficult time in history because we have the power to work through it and to fix it.
It is easy to feel discouraged when each day the news is filled with another senseless act of violence and hate. But we must let this empower us. We can not back down and I know that we will create a better world for future generations. A lot of work has to be done, and it must start immediately, so let's go. I have to stop writing now and you have to stop reading because it's time to change the world. Until next time, xxx.
Pray for Orlando
Justice for Alton Sterling
Justice for Philando Castile
Black Lives Matter
and tonight we are left with Pray for Dallas
All of it is filling up your Twitter and Facebook feeds, coming through the radio, and every time you change the channel on your TV you're left staring at breaking news of another tragic event. I'm beyond angry and sad over everything that is unfolding not only across the world but just in our country alone. So it's time to talk about it.
Just days ago we were celebrating in red, white, and blue. Backyard BBQs, cold beer, fireworks, and waving flags around with every ounce of joy in our bodies. Isn't America the best? Land of the free, home of the brave.
I ask you, how the hell can we be living in the greatest country in the world when blood is shed each day in senseless acts of violence and hate? Don't get me wrong, I love America. I know you're probably angrily reading this, hating me with each word. America is the greatest country in the world, how dare she say it isn't?! Well how dare you say that it is? This country needs some work. Wake up. We are far from perfect.
Listen closely, and read less angrily: I am beyond grateful to live the life that I do in this country. I wouldn't trade it for anything, and I understand I have a lot more than most people in this world. But it is time for a change.
After the absolutely awful shooting at the nightclub in Orlando, I was texting with my grandma. She said that this world is different from when she was growing up. She was born in 1947, and was my age in the 60s. She said during her childhood and even most of her adult life, nothing horrific like what happened in Orlando ever occurred. If something similar to it did unfold, it was rare. It was nothing like what we see today.
The power to turn this country around is in our hands. It is up to all of us. Not just Mr. President and our representatives and the other politicians. We are all people. We can all do something. Together. Isn't that an interesting concept? Unity. It's a beautiful thing. If I can recall correctly... I believe we are living in The United States of America. Is that right? It sure doesn't feel like it lately.
I'm not going to get in to gun laws and all that because that's an entirely different post. What I do have to say is this: it is time for love and peace. It is time to stop talking about it, and time to start showing it. Actions speak louder than words and that will always remain true. So instead of saying "oh wow world peace would be nice," go out into the world and love people. Show strangers kindness.
Because bottom line (oh I know you're not supposed to start a sentence with "because." Every one of my english teachers is cringing) but bottom line is we are human beings. It really is that simple. We are all living on this earth together.
Enough of the "well they are gay and I'm straight and homosexuality is a sin and oh they're black but see my skin is white so they need to stick with their kind and maybe if they weren't in a gay nightclub they wouldn't have been shot and that person is a Democrat but I'm a Republican so I don't like them and their opinions are stupid and irrelevant and everyone who isn't just like me is going to hell so let's build a wall because..." Enough is enough. It honestly sickens me that I have heard people speak this way. These words have come out of people's mouths and it repulses me. Instead of building walls, we should be knocking them down. You're an American, they're a Mexican. He's French and she's Brazilian. What does it matter? We all call this world our home.
I could care less who you're attracted to and who you love. Your skin is black, they are pale, and maybe in the summer I have a tan. Who the hell gives a damn?
My hair is brown, straight, and long. People exist with blonde, black, and red hair. Some people don't have any hair at all. Sometimes they dye it purple, green, or blue. It can be curly or wavy or straight. Long or short. Does that mean I should kill everyone who doesn't have long, brown, straight hair like me? No. Never would that even cross my mind. Yet when it comes to the color of someone's skin, suddenly people feel justified in judging others for it. People are judged off of the color of their skin, something they can't help at all. It's beyond ridiculous.
Now we have police killing innocent people for no reason at all. These police were not under attack, struggling for their lives, and forced to fire their weapons. They killed to kill, or for whatever other reason they are saying. It was senseless. A man has just been shot and is bleeding out with his girlfriend and her four year old daughter in the car. The officer is still aiming his gun at the man, who is clearly in no position to harm anyone, blood spreading over his white shirt. As a citizen, my expectations and hopes for an officer would be to help this man until a medical team arrived, instead of standing there and watching him die. Watching the video posted by the victim's girlfriend made me want to crawl under a rock and never come out. But I can't do that. You can't either. We have to take a stand against this. Tonight four officers are dead and many others wounded at the hands of snipers. Plenty of police officers and others in law enforcement are out in the community to protect us, not to kill. Yet these innocent men were shot for no reason. Again, no reason.
We can't be killing innocent people, no matter their skin color, and we can't be killing officers either. I say "we" because we are all a part of this. Sure, not everyone is firing a gun, but you know what they used to tell us in school. If someone is being bullied and you don't do anything about it, you're partly to blame for the bullying. Standing around and doing nothing is almost as bad as doing something bad. So let's do something good.
Of course, I wish I wasn't writing this. I wish that Dallas wasn't trending on Twitter right now. I wish millions of broken hearted family members and friends weren't enduring the pain of the loved ones lost to senseless acts of violence and hate. If I could erase it all, rewind time, and make it all go away I would. I think we all would.
Whoever you are reading this, I hope this isn't the type of world you want to live in. Whether you're 70 years old, or 14, I hope you don't want your children to live in a world like this. I hope that you want better. We should always be looking for ways to better this planet, and spreading kindness is a way to start.
Imagine sitting in a room. You are with 99 other people. Together, you are 100. There are no doors, so no one can leave. You each have a match in your pocket. The room is bright and you can see everyone around you. No one understands why they have a match, because there is already so much light. Suddenly, the room is plunged into darkness. All the light is gone. For several minutes, everyone stands in darkness. Some get sad, or annoyed, and others angry. People are confused. Some stay silent. You all still stand in darkness. Time passes. People are upset that they were put in a room that suddenly turned dark, so they respond with more darkness. Finally, one person lights a match. The room is no longer completely dark. Slowly, more and more people light matches. Some still stand, refusing to contribute to the light, but after awhile, there is finally enough light to see the people around you again. All it took was one person to light their match.
You see, as MLK Jr. said, all that can push out hate is love. Only the light can conquer the darkness. Not everyone on this earth (or in the room) are going to want to create change. They will stand by in their own dark world. But you can light a match, and encourage those near you to do the same. The darkness and this hate can be overpowered. It will be overcome, because I truly believe that eventually the pure goodness in this world will win over any evil. It takes time and work, but it can and will be done. This generation was perhaps given such a difficult time in history because we have the power to work through it and to fix it.
It is easy to feel discouraged when each day the news is filled with another senseless act of violence and hate. But we must let this empower us. We can not back down and I know that we will create a better world for future generations. A lot of work has to be done, and it must start immediately, so let's go. I have to stop writing now and you have to stop reading because it's time to change the world. Until next time, xxx.
Wednesday, April 20, 2016
To the One Who Loves More
To the girl who will love him more than I ever could,
First off, I was wrong. I thought I'd be the only one to love him that way and I was wrong. You love him more. Please love him more. Believe me, I loved him with everything in me, but I was too broken and sad to fully love anyone enough. I barely loved myself, but I still tried to love him. I want you to love him enough.
I think I broke him in the same way he broke me. I don't want him to be so broken anymore. I don't think he is. Love him. I hope he feels whole knowing he is loved by you. I think he is whole and he is happy and that makes me happy. I hope you love him and love him so much that it hurts. But the good kind of hurt... not the hurt I felt when I said goodbye.
Secondly, I was wrong. Did I already say that? I was so wrong. I thought it was different and not like the rest and maybe this would work out. But I was wrong as I so often am. I was so wrong, but in a weird way I hope I am right about you and him. Hopefully you will work out and the future will be simply lovely. There are too many broken hearts in this world. We don't need anymore than there already are.
Next, I want to say that I appreciate you. It probably doesn't seem like it. Hell, half the time it doesn't feel like it either. I feel anger and hatred and sadness. But truly, I appreciate you deep down in my heart. I appreciate you loving someone who once meant the whole world to me. We share that and have that in common, so I appreciate you because of that. I can't hate you for loving someone better than I ever did.
Finally, I'm going to tell you something and I hope you don't ignore it. Love him. Do not take him for granted because you aren't going to find anyone else like him. Maybe one day or somewhere else at some other point in the future but right now you two have each other so never take that for granted. Find the galaxies in his eyes and trace the map on his palm. Don't forget the blissful feeling you get when he smiles at you. Love him with your entire soul. I'm sure you're kinder than I ever was. I'm sure he loves you more than he ever said he loved me and for some reason it doesn't make me sad anymore. I'm thankful that he has found a love so great, even if it's not with me.
I hope you make him laugh a lot. I always did love that laugh. Doesn't it make your heart full?
Thanks again,
the one who tried
Until next time xxx.
Secondly, I was wrong. Did I already say that? I was so wrong. I thought it was different and not like the rest and maybe this would work out. But I was wrong as I so often am. I was so wrong, but in a weird way I hope I am right about you and him. Hopefully you will work out and the future will be simply lovely. There are too many broken hearts in this world. We don't need anymore than there already are.
Next, I want to say that I appreciate you. It probably doesn't seem like it. Hell, half the time it doesn't feel like it either. I feel anger and hatred and sadness. But truly, I appreciate you deep down in my heart. I appreciate you loving someone who once meant the whole world to me. We share that and have that in common, so I appreciate you because of that. I can't hate you for loving someone better than I ever did.
Finally, I'm going to tell you something and I hope you don't ignore it. Love him. Do not take him for granted because you aren't going to find anyone else like him. Maybe one day or somewhere else at some other point in the future but right now you two have each other so never take that for granted. Find the galaxies in his eyes and trace the map on his palm. Don't forget the blissful feeling you get when he smiles at you. Love him with your entire soul. I'm sure you're kinder than I ever was. I'm sure he loves you more than he ever said he loved me and for some reason it doesn't make me sad anymore. I'm thankful that he has found a love so great, even if it's not with me.
I hope you make him laugh a lot. I always did love that laugh. Doesn't it make your heart full?
Thanks again,
the one who tried
Until next time xxx.
Wednesday, March 30, 2016
The Key to Happiness
It took me awhile to realize that you never truly made me all that happy. Sure there were the good times, and the moments my stomach fluttered with butterflies all while I couldn't wipe that smile off my face. I felt on top of the world, but the problem with being on top of the world is that you can fall off of it at any second.
I felt happy, but I wasn't happy. You know?
You said nice things and gave me reassurance when I couldn't love myself. You distracted me from my sadness, and I mistook it for happiness.
Like a pill, you masked the pain, but you didn't make me better.
Being truly happy on my own has taught me this. Finally loving myself showed me that your validation was never something I needed. I thought I needed it then, because I wasn't strong enough and I didn't love myself enough.
Relying on the validation of others will never result in happiness. Through failed relationships and friendships I learned that I've never needed anyone to be happy. All I've needed is myself.
When your mood and behaviors are determined by the attention you recieve from someone else, you know you've dug yourself into a hole. If someone ignoring your text or hanging out with other people worsens your mood, then you need to take a step back and reevaluate who you have become.
You have to be whole on your own before you can pour yourself into others.
Staying with people who bring you pain and sadness is a choice you make. You have the power to walk away. You are in control.
The people you love obviously have the power to hurt you, but if you continuously allow yourself to be hurt by the same person then that is all on you. Take responsibility for your well being.
I learned this the hard way, because I constantly put my happiness in the hands of others. Now that I have taken back my happiness, I am free. I don't need the validation of anyone else and I am whole when I am alone, and whole when I am surrounded by others.
So maybe love and friendship is all about giving people the power to hurt you, but I think the key is knowing when to stay and when to walk away. The key is knowing that it's never too late to choose happiness.
Until next time xxx.
falling out of love
they are falling apart on the bathroom floor at 3 am. In a mess on the tile in a puddle of tears. You lay beside them, resting your head on a towel. You watch them in silence as they sob until the walls shake. You watch them until sunlight filters through the window, even though they've finally fallen asleep.
they are falling apart on the bathroom floor at 3 am. In a mess on the tile in a puddle of tears. You hear their sobs shake the walls. It's three in the morning, come back to bed. You'll feel better in the morning. They don't get up from the floor, so you wrap the pillow around your ears. As sunlight filters through the window, you feel the empty sheets beside you. You go to brush your teeth, and they're asleep on the bathroom floor.
falling out of love happens quietly, and it may happen to you when you least expect it.
It isn't your fault and it isn't their fault.
Sometimes, no matter how desperately you want to stay in love with someone, you no longer can. Life is life, and suddenly there is no time to exist alongside the person you love.
It becomes too difficult to simply exist, because at first school is stressful and then people get separated in college. As teenagers it feels like the weight of the world and future is on our shoulders and no matter how far apart we are we will always find our way back to each other. Promise? Always.
That turns into the small white house tucked between the two weeping willow trees. The mattress is on the floor, paint cans are in every room and it's perfect. It's perfect for now.
Then the air conditioning breaks in mid-July, there is a stack of bills on the counter, and how are we supposed to afford this? I don't know but we'll figure it out.
The baby finally comes and it's the constant photographs being taken by adoring family members. Your kitchen is full of diaper boxes, patterned blankets, and untouched presents. The baby crawls for the first time, everyone cries out with excitement and look at how fast they grow. Time is flying.
It becomes kids that keep you up through the night, after waking from a nightmare. They're crying and you sit on the edge of their bed and read them stories, holding them until they fall back to sleep. As soon as your head hits the pillow again the alarm goes off and it's time for work and if you take the kids to school I will pick them up after my meeting.
It's the holiday season and you're going to their parents' house for dinner. The kids are dressed in sweaters and all things wintery. You zip up their coats as they pile into the car. Halfway down the road, the children singing Jingle Bells merrily from the back seat and did you forget the pie? Now I have to turn around.
The fight comes a quarter past midnight.
There have been fights like this before, but nothing that has rattled you to the bones. You clutch onto the couch pillow as they shout. You stand and throw the pillow to the ground, never expecting such rage to come from yourself. Your whole body goes cold as you feel them slip away.
Mom? Dad? The meek voice calls quietly from the top of the stairs.
Go back to bed, honey. Everything is fine.
Why are you fighting?
We're not, honey. Go back to sleep. Everything is fine.
Then you wonder how did this happen? When did this happen and why was I too busy to notice? Nothing is fine. Nothing is the same and how the hell could you not realize this sooner... or maybe you did realize, but dismissed it as a part of life. People grow apart and all of that. But how can someone who was once a piece of you suddenly feel so far away? They are standing before you, but they are already gone.
I have seen this happen. I see it happening all around me, all of the time.
I've seen it in my parents. My parents who, for a moment in time, loved each other enough to get married. My parents who had three kids together. My parents who moved 1000 miles and two states away from home. My parents who went through it all. Going through it all can do that to a person... it changes them. It builds them up and breaks them down.
Falling out of love happens because love requires patience and effort, and patience and effort are two things that run out with time.
So don't blame them and don't blame yourself.
It may be the biggest tragedy of all time: from loving someone so much they become a part of you, to struggling to find reasons to stay. It happens.
It happens.
It's okay.
Go back to bed, honey. Everything is fine.
Until next time xxx.
falling out of love happens quietly, and it may happen to you when you least expect it.
It isn't your fault and it isn't their fault.
Sometimes, no matter how desperately you want to stay in love with someone, you no longer can. Life is life, and suddenly there is no time to exist alongside the person you love.
It becomes too difficult to simply exist, because at first school is stressful and then people get separated in college. As teenagers it feels like the weight of the world and future is on our shoulders and no matter how far apart we are we will always find our way back to each other. Promise? Always.
That turns into the small white house tucked between the two weeping willow trees. The mattress is on the floor, paint cans are in every room and it's perfect. It's perfect for now.
Then the air conditioning breaks in mid-July, there is a stack of bills on the counter, and how are we supposed to afford this? I don't know but we'll figure it out.
The baby finally comes and it's the constant photographs being taken by adoring family members. Your kitchen is full of diaper boxes, patterned blankets, and untouched presents. The baby crawls for the first time, everyone cries out with excitement and look at how fast they grow. Time is flying.
It becomes kids that keep you up through the night, after waking from a nightmare. They're crying and you sit on the edge of their bed and read them stories, holding them until they fall back to sleep. As soon as your head hits the pillow again the alarm goes off and it's time for work and if you take the kids to school I will pick them up after my meeting.
It's the holiday season and you're going to their parents' house for dinner. The kids are dressed in sweaters and all things wintery. You zip up their coats as they pile into the car. Halfway down the road, the children singing Jingle Bells merrily from the back seat and did you forget the pie? Now I have to turn around.
The fight comes a quarter past midnight.
There have been fights like this before, but nothing that has rattled you to the bones. You clutch onto the couch pillow as they shout. You stand and throw the pillow to the ground, never expecting such rage to come from yourself. Your whole body goes cold as you feel them slip away.
Mom? Dad? The meek voice calls quietly from the top of the stairs.
Go back to bed, honey. Everything is fine.
Why are you fighting?
We're not, honey. Go back to sleep. Everything is fine.
Then you wonder how did this happen? When did this happen and why was I too busy to notice? Nothing is fine. Nothing is the same and how the hell could you not realize this sooner... or maybe you did realize, but dismissed it as a part of life. People grow apart and all of that. But how can someone who was once a piece of you suddenly feel so far away? They are standing before you, but they are already gone.
I have seen this happen. I see it happening all around me, all of the time.
I've seen it in my parents. My parents who, for a moment in time, loved each other enough to get married. My parents who had three kids together. My parents who moved 1000 miles and two states away from home. My parents who went through it all. Going through it all can do that to a person... it changes them. It builds them up and breaks them down.
Falling out of love happens because love requires patience and effort, and patience and effort are two things that run out with time.
So don't blame them and don't blame yourself.
It may be the biggest tragedy of all time: from loving someone so much they become a part of you, to struggling to find reasons to stay. It happens.
It happens.
It's okay.
Go back to bed, honey. Everything is fine.
Until next time xxx.
Tuesday, March 22, 2016
I Don't Love You Anymore
No one has ever told me "I don't love you anymore." I've never heard those words. Now, wait a minute and stop thinking how I need to get off my high horse. I'm not so arrogant, and I'm not going to pretend that everyone loves me and kisses the ground I walk on. That's just bullshit. No one is loved by everyone. Just because I have never been told those exact words, doesn't mean that people haven't stopped loving me. Believe me when I say that there are plenty of people out there in this world who have stopped caring for me. They never said it, but they didn't have to. I already knew, maybe even before they did.
Yet, I still wish they had said it. You're probably wondering why. Why would I want to hear that I mean so little to someone? I wish they had said it because then it would be easier to accept. Life wouldn't be such a guessing game.
But, saying "I don't love you anymore" would be too easy, huh? It is a bit ironic, given people usually try and do what's easiest, even if it's not always right. Yet, the right thing to do is to say "I don't love you anymore," and simply move on with life, but that's too easy. Life apparently isn't allowed to be that simple, because people always seem to struggle with being blunt. It's as if facing the truth is too much for people to bear. Everyone is constantly tiptoeing around the important matters in life and sweeping things under the rug, like they will somehow disappear under there. Well, one day you'll have to move out of that house and when you're rolling the rug up you'll find all your problems still there, patiently waiting for you to acknowledge them.
That's why I wish people could look me in the eye and say "I don't love you anymore." Then it wouldn't be swept under the rug, and it wouldn't be looming in the future. It would go away.
So, no, I've never been told that I wasn't loved anymore. I've been told plenty of other perfectly cruel things, but I don't feel like repeating them here. I don't think I'll ever feel like repeating them anywhere.
Like I said, I've always known when people have stopped caring for me. I think I figure it out before they do, because I've always been able to pick up on the smallest changes that others rarely notice. Maybe they do notice it, but they shake it off anyways and say, "Oh that? That's nothing." Then they make up some excuse as to why the people who are supposed to love them treat them like they are so small. They make up excuses, because that is easier than accepting that they are no longer loved by certain people.
So I heard. I heard how their tone changed, and suddenly my name didn't sound safe in their mouth anymore. They stopped saying my name and I wondered when the last time my name rolled off their tongue was.
I saw. I saw how they couldn't look at me anymore. They looked down, to the side, or past me, and never looked at me in the eyes. Look at me, I wanted to beg. Look at me, or else I feel like I might disappear into the air and you won't even realize.
I noticed. I noticed when their laugh became strained. Their shoulders didn't shake and their eyes stopped watering as they doubled over with laughter. Actually, they didn't double over with laughter at all anymore. I could have cracked the funniest joke in the world and all they'd be able to manage was a "ha."
I felt it. I felt when their hand let go of mine after a couple of seconds. Usually, they could hold on for hours, but it suddenly became too much of a hassle for them. The sweaty palms weren't worth it.
I remember. I remember when my world came crashing down around me, and I drove to their house. It was raining, and I was about to jump out of my car and run to their porch. Then it hit me that they would pretend to care but wouldn't mean it at all, so I drove away.
I smiled. I smiled every time they bothered to acknowledge that I still existed and that I was still in fact a human. I gripped at any small shred of hope that they did still care, and I didn't let go.
I celebrated. I celebrated and they didn't. I received the best news of my life on that sunny winter day, the type where it's cold and the earth is frozen, but the sky is on fire. I called them immediately and was jumping around my room because I was incapable of containing my excitement. All they said was, "good for you."
I cried. I cried myself to sleep because I knew but couldn't accept it. I knew all along that they truly didn't care. They didn't love me anymore, and maybe they never really did.
I walked away. I walked away because ultimately it was easier than pretending to be content around people who I knew could not care any less.
So yeah, I've never heard those five fatal words. I don't love you anymore. I still wonder what it must sound like. I bet it hurts a lot less than the sinking realization that you don't matter anymore to them, but never having any confirmation.
Closure is a unique sort of thing. Without closure, life is left like a book without an ending. With no closure, things become a mystery that will never be solved. Everyone needs closure, because nothing can truly begin again without the definite end of something else. If people were capable of looking at me and saying "I don't love you anymore," then my mind wouldn't spend so much time wondering why? I wouldn't be left to wonder why they didn't have enough decency to look at me and just say it. Was I truly worth that little? Now I'll always wonder.
But the loss of all these people who didn't care as much as I did has taught me a great lesson.
They may love you and never say it. But just because they say "I love you" doesn't mean they actually do. And trust me, you'll just know whether you want to admit it or not. Until next time xxx.
Yet, I still wish they had said it. You're probably wondering why. Why would I want to hear that I mean so little to someone? I wish they had said it because then it would be easier to accept. Life wouldn't be such a guessing game.
But, saying "I don't love you anymore" would be too easy, huh? It is a bit ironic, given people usually try and do what's easiest, even if it's not always right. Yet, the right thing to do is to say "I don't love you anymore," and simply move on with life, but that's too easy. Life apparently isn't allowed to be that simple, because people always seem to struggle with being blunt. It's as if facing the truth is too much for people to bear. Everyone is constantly tiptoeing around the important matters in life and sweeping things under the rug, like they will somehow disappear under there. Well, one day you'll have to move out of that house and when you're rolling the rug up you'll find all your problems still there, patiently waiting for you to acknowledge them.
That's why I wish people could look me in the eye and say "I don't love you anymore." Then it wouldn't be swept under the rug, and it wouldn't be looming in the future. It would go away.
So, no, I've never been told that I wasn't loved anymore. I've been told plenty of other perfectly cruel things, but I don't feel like repeating them here. I don't think I'll ever feel like repeating them anywhere.
Like I said, I've always known when people have stopped caring for me. I think I figure it out before they do, because I've always been able to pick up on the smallest changes that others rarely notice. Maybe they do notice it, but they shake it off anyways and say, "Oh that? That's nothing." Then they make up some excuse as to why the people who are supposed to love them treat them like they are so small. They make up excuses, because that is easier than accepting that they are no longer loved by certain people.
So I heard. I heard how their tone changed, and suddenly my name didn't sound safe in their mouth anymore. They stopped saying my name and I wondered when the last time my name rolled off their tongue was.
I saw. I saw how they couldn't look at me anymore. They looked down, to the side, or past me, and never looked at me in the eyes. Look at me, I wanted to beg. Look at me, or else I feel like I might disappear into the air and you won't even realize.
I noticed. I noticed when their laugh became strained. Their shoulders didn't shake and their eyes stopped watering as they doubled over with laughter. Actually, they didn't double over with laughter at all anymore. I could have cracked the funniest joke in the world and all they'd be able to manage was a "ha."
I felt it. I felt when their hand let go of mine after a couple of seconds. Usually, they could hold on for hours, but it suddenly became too much of a hassle for them. The sweaty palms weren't worth it.
I remember. I remember when my world came crashing down around me, and I drove to their house. It was raining, and I was about to jump out of my car and run to their porch. Then it hit me that they would pretend to care but wouldn't mean it at all, so I drove away.
I smiled. I smiled every time they bothered to acknowledge that I still existed and that I was still in fact a human. I gripped at any small shred of hope that they did still care, and I didn't let go.
I celebrated. I celebrated and they didn't. I received the best news of my life on that sunny winter day, the type where it's cold and the earth is frozen, but the sky is on fire. I called them immediately and was jumping around my room because I was incapable of containing my excitement. All they said was, "good for you."
I cried. I cried myself to sleep because I knew but couldn't accept it. I knew all along that they truly didn't care. They didn't love me anymore, and maybe they never really did.
I walked away. I walked away because ultimately it was easier than pretending to be content around people who I knew could not care any less.
So yeah, I've never heard those five fatal words. I don't love you anymore. I still wonder what it must sound like. I bet it hurts a lot less than the sinking realization that you don't matter anymore to them, but never having any confirmation.
Closure is a unique sort of thing. Without closure, life is left like a book without an ending. With no closure, things become a mystery that will never be solved. Everyone needs closure, because nothing can truly begin again without the definite end of something else. If people were capable of looking at me and saying "I don't love you anymore," then my mind wouldn't spend so much time wondering why? I wouldn't be left to wonder why they didn't have enough decency to look at me and just say it. Was I truly worth that little? Now I'll always wonder.
But the loss of all these people who didn't care as much as I did has taught me a great lesson.
They may love you and never say it. But just because they say "I love you" doesn't mean they actually do. And trust me, you'll just know whether you want to admit it or not. Until next time xxx.
Tuesday, March 15, 2016
Love the Life You Live
Less than 24 hours ago I wrote about the time I almost died. Now, two of my family members are gone, lost to a tragic accident. Here is what I wrote:
Of course, I've narrowly escaped death plenty of times before. I've been tossed around in my fair share of earthquakes. There's that time the taxi almost hit me in San Francisco. There are those small moments that I'll always remember thinking "crap." But, nothing ever quite like the time I decided to swim in the rushing river. I wasn't an idiot, okay? I didn't run off on my own and jump into the rocky waters or anything. My parents and I waded further into the river together. My dad went several yards away to observe a tree or something, while my mom carried me on her back. Suddenly, the pretty pebble floor of the river disappeared. It was black. My mom couldn't swim, but luckily I could. All those years of swimming lessons finally came in handy. My mom sunk into the water and I tried to cling onto a rock nearby. The current was too strong, knocking me off the slippery rock. My dad yelled at me that I had to swim. There was a sand bar. I could make it there. The water stung my eyes. I had to make it there. My dad had to help my mom. She couldn't swim, but I could. I had to swim. I had to kick my legs. I had to breathe. No, don't breathe, I thought as water rushed into my nose and mouth. Kick. Swim. Move. Move. Don't drown. Do not die. Make it to the sand bar. The current was strong and I was young. I reached the sand bar and threw myself on top of it. I looked behind me. My dad held my mom. No one had been swept away by the waves. I coughed up a bit of water. We got out of the river has quickly as possible.
I often wonder why. I wonder why the water hadn't consumed me on that day. My dad's childhood friend drowned in an accident years and years ago. He was on a boat with his date and a storm kicked in. He died. He went out on a date and he died. I went out to explore in a river and I didn't die.
But life has an interesting way of working out that way. Planes crash into buildings. Boats sink. People get sick. Wrong place, wrong time.
(no title)
Once upon a time, a long time ago, far far away blah blah blah, I almost died. It wasn't the tragic sort of death where I was clinging to life in a hospital bed, hooked up to beeping machines. I didn't have some horrifyingly high fever and doctors weren't leaning over me every second of the day waiting for me to kick the bucket. I wasn't really at the wrong place at the wrong time, nearly escaping a tornado or anything wild like that. It was a quite normal day, and I remember the sun was out. It was my dad's birthday. My parents and I were exploring along the banks of a river. The water was crisp and clear, and as I waded along the edge I could see my feet on top of the pebbles. It was a perfect day and very, very peaceful.Of course, I've narrowly escaped death plenty of times before. I've been tossed around in my fair share of earthquakes. There's that time the taxi almost hit me in San Francisco. There are those small moments that I'll always remember thinking "crap." But, nothing ever quite like the time I decided to swim in the rushing river. I wasn't an idiot, okay? I didn't run off on my own and jump into the rocky waters or anything. My parents and I waded further into the river together. My dad went several yards away to observe a tree or something, while my mom carried me on her back. Suddenly, the pretty pebble floor of the river disappeared. It was black. My mom couldn't swim, but luckily I could. All those years of swimming lessons finally came in handy. My mom sunk into the water and I tried to cling onto a rock nearby. The current was too strong, knocking me off the slippery rock. My dad yelled at me that I had to swim. There was a sand bar. I could make it there. The water stung my eyes. I had to make it there. My dad had to help my mom. She couldn't swim, but I could. I had to swim. I had to kick my legs. I had to breathe. No, don't breathe, I thought as water rushed into my nose and mouth. Kick. Swim. Move. Move. Don't drown. Do not die. Make it to the sand bar. The current was strong and I was young. I reached the sand bar and threw myself on top of it. I looked behind me. My dad held my mom. No one had been swept away by the waves. I coughed up a bit of water. We got out of the river has quickly as possible.
I often wonder why. I wonder why the water hadn't consumed me on that day. My dad's childhood friend drowned in an accident years and years ago. He was on a boat with his date and a storm kicked in. He died. He went out on a date and he died. I went out to explore in a river and I didn't die.
But life has an interesting way of working out that way. Planes crash into buildings. Boats sink. People get sick. Wrong place, wrong time.
I didn't post it, and I hadn't even finished writing. The last line I wrote was "wrong place, wrong time." My aunt and uncle were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Honestly, I'm haunted by what I wrote yesterday, as if somehow I just knew deep down that something horrible was about to happen. And something horrible happened.
If my family hadn't been driving down that narrow road in the dark of night, and if that man driving the opposite way hadn't fallen asleep at the wheel, they would still be alive.
Everyone says it, right? Love the people you have while you still can. Don't take any moment for granted. We hear it all the time, but do we actually take it to heart? I hold grudges. I stay sad and angry. I hate myself for it, but it's a part of being human.
At the same time, love is all we have at the end of the day. We are only given so many days on this earth, and it can be taken away in the blink of an eye. I am so grateful for all I have, and I beg of you to please love everyone as much as possible. Forgive, let go, say you're sorry, never give up. Love. Love. Love. Look up at the sun rising and setting and look at the stars that hang above your head. Breathe in the fresh air. Feel the sun on your face. Laugh until your stomach hurts. Hug people. Kiss people. Hold on to people.
If you were to die tomorrow, would you be happy with the way all your relationships ended? What regrets would you have? I beg you to live in a way where, if the sky fell tomorrow and everything ended, you would have no regrets.
Pain is inevitable. There will be heartbreak, and sadness, and loss. If you try to be happy all the time, you will lose. You're allowed to hurt. It is a part of being human. But take in this life you were given, and embrace all the ups and downs. One day, it could all be gone. Until next time xxx.
Monday, March 14, 2016
Who Were They?
What were they like?
Tell me how they made you feel, and tell me how knowing them was like finally breaking the surface of the ocean, after drowning for so long. Did their smile make your heart skip a beat? I bet their laugh was the most beautiful sound in the world.
When you saw them for the first time, did you know that you were going to love them? Or did your love develop with time, like a polaroid? Do you think you really loved them? Maybe you just loved the way they made you feel. Maybe you were in love with the idea of love.
If you saw that they were sad, did your heart ache too? Did you feel a bit more complete in their presence, like everything was finally falling together?
Then what about when everything fell apart.
Tell me how they made you feel, and tell me how knowing them was like finally breaking the surface of the ocean, after drowning for so long. Did their smile make your heart skip a beat? I bet their laugh was the most beautiful sound in the world.
When you saw them for the first time, did you know that you were going to love them? Or did your love develop with time, like a polaroid? Do you think you really loved them? Maybe you just loved the way they made you feel. Maybe you were in love with the idea of love.
If you saw that they were sad, did your heart ache too? Did you feel a bit more complete in their presence, like everything was finally falling together?
Then what about when everything fell apart.
Tell me. Tell me if saying goodbye to them was like hearing your favorite song for the last time.
Did you notice when they were gone? Could you physically feel an emptiness within you?
When the phone rings, do you sometimes hope it's them?
Do you wish you had never known them at all, but then realize your life would've been nothing without them?
I wonder if they made you smile for no reason at all, and if maybe seeing them was all you needed to get through the day. Perhaps all you needed was to know that they were existing in the same world as you. Maybe that was enough. Maybe it will always be enough.
Who were they really? Who were they when they weren't smiling and laughing and pretending to be okay? What did their soul look like- could you feel it? Was it like a cool breeze on a hot summer day, or being wrapped in a warm blanket on a snowy winter night?
Were they like standing before a masterpiece in a museum, nearly impossible to entirely take in? Was loving them like standing on top of a mountain after a long hike- exhausting but satisfying, leaving you breathless? Was it the quiet satisfaction and comfort that comes when you curl in front of the fireplace on a blustery evening?
Were they like standing before a masterpiece in a museum, nearly impossible to entirely take in? Was loving them like standing on top of a mountain after a long hike- exhausting but satisfying, leaving you breathless? Was it the quiet satisfaction and comfort that comes when you curl in front of the fireplace on a blustery evening?
Was the touch of their skin against your own enough to light a fire in a forest?
Did you see stars dancing in their eyes, and did you hear a melody in every word they spoke?
When you heard their voice crack and saw tears stream down their face, did your heart break in places you never even knew existed?
Did you see stars dancing in their eyes, and did you hear a melody in every word they spoke?
When you heard their voice crack and saw tears stream down their face, did your heart break in places you never even knew existed?
I never said a name, but you were thinking about them the entire time, weren't you? That's when you know it means something. That's when it matters. Until next time xxx.
Sunday, March 13, 2016
Tu Me Manques
Missing you is a beautiful sort of tragedy. I consider myself lucky to miss you, because it means that for a moment in time I didn't miss you at all. I didn't have to miss you, because I could grab your hand and curl up beside you whenever I wanted to. I could call you excitedly to tell you the best news, or call you crying to tell you the worst. Missing you is knowing I can't, but wanting to anyways.
It's reaching for the phone when I got accepted to my dream school, before remembering that you wouldn't care. It's forgetting the rhythm to my favorite song but remembering all the words and not knowing how to string them together. It's like dropping a lucky penny in the ocean, and knowing I will never get it back again, no matter how hard I try. It's wondering if I'll always remember you and you've already forgotten about me. It's having a million words to say but knowing I will never hear them come out of my mouth.
I don't remember the last time I heard you say my name. You used to whisper my name, or say it with a smile in your voice. My name used to have meaning as it rolled off your tongue. Now I wonder when the last time you heard or spoke my name was. I wonder how it would sound if I heard you say it now.
Missing you is the loudest silence in the world. Do you remember all those football games, and how the stadium would fill with cheers, laughter, and shouts into the night? Do you remember how it would sound after everyone would clear out to go party, and you and I would sit alone in the stands? Do you remember how heavy the air felt, with the noises of the people already gone? That's what missing you is like.
Missing you is like waking up from a dream. Do you remember waking up from the most amazing dream only to realize that none of it was real? Do you remember the sigh of disappointment you'd let out before flipping your pillow over and shutting your eyes? Do you remember how you couldn't keep your eyes shut for long, because your mind would wander back to your perfect, vivid dream? That's what missing you is like.
Do you remember me? Do you ever think of how I must miss you, or do you think I don't miss you at all?
Do you remember how I liked the raw cookie dough more than the actual cookie, and how I could never fall asleep before one in the morning? Do you remember how loopy my handwriting would become when I was in a rush, or how I wanted to jump on the first airplane to Europe?
Do you remember how I said I was scared of sharks and small spaces... and do you remember how I said more than anything, I was scared of losing the people I love? My greatest fear was to lose everyone that meant something to me. Do you remember when I told you that?
Missing you isn't the sort of sadness that dissolves with time. It is the sadness that settles in your heart and your whole body and never leaves, no matter how much time goes by.
Missing you is wishing upon every shooting star that maybe one day you'll come back around. Maybe next year, or maybe in ten years. Missing you is the fear that you'll show up when I'm standing under the alter, about to marry someone else. It's not being able to decide what would hurt more- if you showed up at my wedding and didn't say a thing, or if you said you missed me too. It's the fear that if you showed up and said you missed me, I would leave behind someone I was about to read vows to just for one more chance. Missing you is knowing that I would give everything up for one more moment to exist with you.
And sometimes I swear... while I lay awake at three in the morning, or as I drive on a rainy afternoon. I swear... as I sit in front of the fire, or look up at the sparkling constellations. I swear... as I laugh with my friends or drink a cup of coffee. I swear... as I sit in the sun or take a bubble bath. I swear... as I open presents on Christmas morning or blow out the candles on my birthday cake. I swear. I swear that I will miss you forever. And I think I'm okay with that, no matter how much I wish I wasn't. And sometimes I swear you must miss me too. Until next time xxx.
It's reaching for the phone when I got accepted to my dream school, before remembering that you wouldn't care. It's forgetting the rhythm to my favorite song but remembering all the words and not knowing how to string them together. It's like dropping a lucky penny in the ocean, and knowing I will never get it back again, no matter how hard I try. It's wondering if I'll always remember you and you've already forgotten about me. It's having a million words to say but knowing I will never hear them come out of my mouth.
I don't remember the last time I heard you say my name. You used to whisper my name, or say it with a smile in your voice. My name used to have meaning as it rolled off your tongue. Now I wonder when the last time you heard or spoke my name was. I wonder how it would sound if I heard you say it now.
Missing you is the loudest silence in the world. Do you remember all those football games, and how the stadium would fill with cheers, laughter, and shouts into the night? Do you remember how it would sound after everyone would clear out to go party, and you and I would sit alone in the stands? Do you remember how heavy the air felt, with the noises of the people already gone? That's what missing you is like.
Missing you is like waking up from a dream. Do you remember waking up from the most amazing dream only to realize that none of it was real? Do you remember the sigh of disappointment you'd let out before flipping your pillow over and shutting your eyes? Do you remember how you couldn't keep your eyes shut for long, because your mind would wander back to your perfect, vivid dream? That's what missing you is like.
Do you remember me? Do you ever think of how I must miss you, or do you think I don't miss you at all?
Do you remember how I liked the raw cookie dough more than the actual cookie, and how I could never fall asleep before one in the morning? Do you remember how loopy my handwriting would become when I was in a rush, or how I wanted to jump on the first airplane to Europe?
Do you remember how I said I was scared of sharks and small spaces... and do you remember how I said more than anything, I was scared of losing the people I love? My greatest fear was to lose everyone that meant something to me. Do you remember when I told you that?
Missing you isn't the sort of sadness that dissolves with time. It is the sadness that settles in your heart and your whole body and never leaves, no matter how much time goes by.
Missing you is wishing upon every shooting star that maybe one day you'll come back around. Maybe next year, or maybe in ten years. Missing you is the fear that you'll show up when I'm standing under the alter, about to marry someone else. It's not being able to decide what would hurt more- if you showed up at my wedding and didn't say a thing, or if you said you missed me too. It's the fear that if you showed up and said you missed me, I would leave behind someone I was about to read vows to just for one more chance. Missing you is knowing that I would give everything up for one more moment to exist with you.
And sometimes I swear... while I lay awake at three in the morning, or as I drive on a rainy afternoon. I swear... as I sit in front of the fire, or look up at the sparkling constellations. I swear... as I laugh with my friends or drink a cup of coffee. I swear... as I sit in the sun or take a bubble bath. I swear... as I open presents on Christmas morning or blow out the candles on my birthday cake. I swear. I swear that I will miss you forever. And I think I'm okay with that, no matter how much I wish I wasn't. And sometimes I swear you must miss me too. Until next time xxx.
Wednesday, February 24, 2016
For My Friend Emily
10 months before I moved to Colorado, I moved to another town in California, about 20 minutes away from my home town, so nothing too drastic. There, I made a lot of new friends that I will always cherish and never forget.
I started at a new school, and was in Mrs. Aiello's fifth grade class. I made fast best friends with Caylin, Ryann, Taylor, Lindsey, Kiara, Deondre (hold your comments about the names), and then there was Emily. Emily was a bubbly girl. She was a lot shorter than me (and I'm on the shorter side), but her personality made her larger than life. There was a forest on one side of our school's playground, and her laugh would echo through the trees on those bright, fall days.
One morning, Ryann was sitting on the swing crying. Her mom was a second grade teacher at the school, and my cousin was in her class. She was crying, which was bizarre because it seemed too early for anything to have gone wrong yet. I sat next to her on a swing in silence for a couple of minutes, before asking what was wrong. She said "my dad just got hit by a semi-truck." That morning, her dad was on his way to work on his motorcycle when a semi blew through a red light, hitting him from the side. He was in the hospital. Alive.
"He will be okay. I know he will be okay," I remember hearing myself say, leaning back in the swing a bit. Ryann had stopped crying and had resorted to kicking the tanbark with her foot. Then I saw Emily running towards us, flailing her arms all over the place. "YOU GUYS, it is international BACON day!!!" she handed me and Ryann each a limp piece of once crispy bacon. "Sorry it's cold, I got it in the cafeteria."
I smiled up at Emily, but shook my head a bit, gesturing to Ryann. Emily's crestfallen expression was heartbreaking.
"Hey," Emily sat on the other side of Ryann and took her hand. I reached over for Ryann's other hand and the three of us sat there quietly until the morning bell rang and we had to go to our classrooms. We sat in comforting silence.
That is how Emily was. She always knew what to say and what to do, and I am forever thankful for my spot beside her at lunch everyday, and our tetherball battles.
At the end of October I had to pack my life into boxes and move 1000 miles away to a strange place. It was physically painful to have to leave behind my family, friends, and everything else I knew. For some reason, I felt like I was leaving my childhood behind, even though I had years to go.
Starting at a new school once again was incredibly difficult, especially since I did not know a single person. For a while, I would lay on my bed every afternoon and stare at the ceiling of my new room. There were unopened boxes everywhere, as if I was hoping my parents would say, "okay, enough of this place, let's move back now." Of course, they never said that. They couldn't. My dad had his new job here so there was no looking back. I was very sad. I talked to Caylin and Emily on the phone once for three hours. Apparently, they had watched a weather video in class that mentioned all the summer thunderstorms in Colorado, and Deondre had shouted that I would probably get struck by lightning and die. I remember laughing when they told me this. It was getting late into the night, and I was being yelled at to go to bed, so I had to say goodbye. I hung up the phone, and as life goes, months went by. Life doesn't stop for anyone, and I started making friends and became busy once the holiday season rolled around, and almost forgot all about International Bacon Day and sitting on the swings.
I often return to California, and visit there at least once a year. The first time I returned after moving, I stayed with my cousins a couple houses down from my old home. The swing was still in the front yard. It was a bit crooked, but I went to sit on it anyways, hoping the new people who lived in my old house did not look out the window and see a random girl in their front yard. As I was swinging, I remembered how fun it was.
"Let's go," I turned to my cousins, and without me even having to explain myself we started running. We ran all the way to the elementary school, which was just a few blocks away. I ran through the trees and climbed the chain link, landing right behind the set of swings that I remembered so fondly. I was swinging until I reached the top of the trees, and remembered the morning of International Bacon Day.
"How is everyone?" I called to my cousins as we were swinging. They are both younger than me, but we all went to the same school for a time and they knew all my friends.
"Well, I joined Deondre's gang, and Lindsey moved away, after her pit bull chewed a hole through the wall. Dylan and Catherine still live in the house with the palm trees, and I swear Catherine is in love with me she always sits across the street from the house and stares at me, you know? Bianca is obsessed with Hannah Montana and follows me and Nadia home from school everyday. Ryann's dad is all better and she won some fancy dancing award. Taylor and that crazy dog Rocco are still living on Rocky Point with us... and uh, Caylin left to a private school in Pleasanton," my then third grade cousin explained. I was still only in fifth grade, but now that I reflect on that moment, we seemed so much older. I felt overwhelmed after he explained to me everything that had gone on in my absence. "I'm going to ignore the fact that you joined a gang and ask why Caylin moved to Pleasanton? I really wanted to visit with her." I remember feeling so disappointed as I continued to swing. Caylin had given me a friendship bracelet before I moved to Colorado, and I was looking forward to hanging out with her when I returned. We could wear our bracelets and everything could be like it used to be.
"Everything just changed so much. It's a different place," my cousin flipped off the other swing, but the other cousin and I continued to fly above the leafy tree tops.
"How is Emily doing? Maybe I can see her!" I remember the wind blowing through my hair as I smiled up at the sky.
"Oh," my cousin called before jumping off the swing, too. "I think we have to go home now it's almost dinner. Come on!" The two of them started running, so I flew off and sprinted after them as the sun began to set.
We sat around the table as my aunt and mom served us dinner before joining us at the table. We ate quietly for a few minutes before I set my fork down.
"Hey auntie, can I have Emily's phone number so I can hang out with her before I leave?"
My cousins looked anxiously at one another.
"What?" I shot them a nasty look before hitting them with my napkin. They both held their hands up and shrugged.
"Um, Isa, we have some bad news... well I thought you knew," my aunt swished her drink around in its glass.
"Knew what?" I felt my palms become sweaty, so I wiped them on my shorts.
"Sweetie, Emily died. The school left everyone a voicemail."
I gave everyone at the table a weird look. "Yeah. Sure."
"I am so sorry."
"Died? How did she die? We are in fifth grade!" I stood up from the table. No one else moved.
"She was sick. The doctors do not know with what... it was very rare and she became too weak too fast and passed away. I am sorry, but she is gone."
I left the kitchen without another word and sat on the floor of my cousin's room. Died. Emily. Rare. Sick. Passed away. Gone. Never are these words that should be strung together in the same sentence when discussing a child. I was in shock and my heart was heavy. I could not believe it. Everything really had changed, and now a selfless girl was gone forever.
It has been almost seven years since Emily passed away. Seven years is a long time (2,555 days makes it seem even longer). I can probably name at least 100 things that have drastically changed in my life since then. I went to middle school, I went to high school. I played field hockey and tennis. My parents got divorced. I went to Europe. I fell in love. I lost good friends. I learned to drive. I got accepted to colleges. I got an internship and a job... in a couple months I will be a high school graduate. These are all things Emily will never get to experience, and they are all things I have taken advantage of and not fully appreciated.
I have not yet lost anyone incredibly close to me, or experienced death in such a significant way, until hearing of Emily's passing. It is not something I fully accepted either and was incapable of understanding that someone so young and full of life was truly gone. It is still difficult for me to believe. Yet, whenever anyone from school or the community passes away in Colrado, I think I have started to feel it on an extra level. I feel this loss, and I reminded of Emily. I am reminded of my young, carefree, yet insightful friend with the bubbly laugh and bright smile. I am reminded how she lost a battle and was barely given the chance to live. I am taken back to the moment that I sat on the swing, chewing a piece of bacon while Ryann cried between the both of us and we all held hands in comforting silence.
I am reminded that life will do whatever it wants to you. Everything can (and will) change at the drop of a hat. Life is precious and unpredictable. Seven years may seem like a long time, but what really is time besides a measurement? Often times, the best moments of our lives only last a split second, and some people in our lives will leave a mark that is unforgettable. There is something I will always love about sitting on a swing and feeling the wind rustle my hair, no matter how old I get and how many years pass. It is a feeling I will never be able to put words to.
I miss you Emily. Thank you for being my friend, even if it was for a short time. This poem reminds me of you, so I bolded my favorite parts. Thank you for being a part of my life for a little while. It will always be a special moment in my memory. Hopefully from this, people will learn to love those they have while they are given the chance. Until next time xxx.
A Child of Mine by Edgar Albert Guest
I will lend you, for a little time,
A child of mine, He said.
For you to love the while he lives,
And mourn for when he's dead.
It may be six or seven years,
Or twenty-two or three.
But will you, till I call him back,
Take care of him for Me?
He'll bring his charms to gladden you,
And should his stay be brief.
You'll have his lovely memories,
As solace for your grief.
I cannot promise he will stay,
Since all from earth return.
But there are lessons taught down there,
I want this child to learn.
I've looked the wide world over,
In search for teachers true.
And from the throngs that crowd life's lanes,
I have selected you.
Now will you give him all your love,
Nor think the labour vain.
Nor hate me when I come
To take him home again?
I fancied that I heard them say,
'Dear Lord, Thy will be done!'
For all the joys Thy child shall bring,
The risk of grief we'll run.
We'll shelter him with tenderness,
We'll love him while we may,
And for the happiness we've known,
Forever grateful stay.
But should the angels call for him,
Much sooner than we've planned.
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes,
And try to understand.
One morning, Ryann was sitting on the swing crying. Her mom was a second grade teacher at the school, and my cousin was in her class. She was crying, which was bizarre because it seemed too early for anything to have gone wrong yet. I sat next to her on a swing in silence for a couple of minutes, before asking what was wrong. She said "my dad just got hit by a semi-truck." That morning, her dad was on his way to work on his motorcycle when a semi blew through a red light, hitting him from the side. He was in the hospital. Alive.
"He will be okay. I know he will be okay," I remember hearing myself say, leaning back in the swing a bit. Ryann had stopped crying and had resorted to kicking the tanbark with her foot. Then I saw Emily running towards us, flailing her arms all over the place. "YOU GUYS, it is international BACON day!!!" she handed me and Ryann each a limp piece of once crispy bacon. "Sorry it's cold, I got it in the cafeteria."
I smiled up at Emily, but shook my head a bit, gesturing to Ryann. Emily's crestfallen expression was heartbreaking.
"Hey," Emily sat on the other side of Ryann and took her hand. I reached over for Ryann's other hand and the three of us sat there quietly until the morning bell rang and we had to go to our classrooms. We sat in comforting silence.
That is how Emily was. She always knew what to say and what to do, and I am forever thankful for my spot beside her at lunch everyday, and our tetherball battles.
At the end of October I had to pack my life into boxes and move 1000 miles away to a strange place. It was physically painful to have to leave behind my family, friends, and everything else I knew. For some reason, I felt like I was leaving my childhood behind, even though I had years to go.
Starting at a new school once again was incredibly difficult, especially since I did not know a single person. For a while, I would lay on my bed every afternoon and stare at the ceiling of my new room. There were unopened boxes everywhere, as if I was hoping my parents would say, "okay, enough of this place, let's move back now." Of course, they never said that. They couldn't. My dad had his new job here so there was no looking back. I was very sad. I talked to Caylin and Emily on the phone once for three hours. Apparently, they had watched a weather video in class that mentioned all the summer thunderstorms in Colorado, and Deondre had shouted that I would probably get struck by lightning and die. I remember laughing when they told me this. It was getting late into the night, and I was being yelled at to go to bed, so I had to say goodbye. I hung up the phone, and as life goes, months went by. Life doesn't stop for anyone, and I started making friends and became busy once the holiday season rolled around, and almost forgot all about International Bacon Day and sitting on the swings.
I often return to California, and visit there at least once a year. The first time I returned after moving, I stayed with my cousins a couple houses down from my old home. The swing was still in the front yard. It was a bit crooked, but I went to sit on it anyways, hoping the new people who lived in my old house did not look out the window and see a random girl in their front yard. As I was swinging, I remembered how fun it was.
"Let's go," I turned to my cousins, and without me even having to explain myself we started running. We ran all the way to the elementary school, which was just a few blocks away. I ran through the trees and climbed the chain link, landing right behind the set of swings that I remembered so fondly. I was swinging until I reached the top of the trees, and remembered the morning of International Bacon Day.
"How is everyone?" I called to my cousins as we were swinging. They are both younger than me, but we all went to the same school for a time and they knew all my friends.
"Well, I joined Deondre's gang, and Lindsey moved away, after her pit bull chewed a hole through the wall. Dylan and Catherine still live in the house with the palm trees, and I swear Catherine is in love with me she always sits across the street from the house and stares at me, you know? Bianca is obsessed with Hannah Montana and follows me and Nadia home from school everyday. Ryann's dad is all better and she won some fancy dancing award. Taylor and that crazy dog Rocco are still living on Rocky Point with us... and uh, Caylin left to a private school in Pleasanton," my then third grade cousin explained. I was still only in fifth grade, but now that I reflect on that moment, we seemed so much older. I felt overwhelmed after he explained to me everything that had gone on in my absence. "I'm going to ignore the fact that you joined a gang and ask why Caylin moved to Pleasanton? I really wanted to visit with her." I remember feeling so disappointed as I continued to swing. Caylin had given me a friendship bracelet before I moved to Colorado, and I was looking forward to hanging out with her when I returned. We could wear our bracelets and everything could be like it used to be.
"Everything just changed so much. It's a different place," my cousin flipped off the other swing, but the other cousin and I continued to fly above the leafy tree tops.
"How is Emily doing? Maybe I can see her!" I remember the wind blowing through my hair as I smiled up at the sky.
"Oh," my cousin called before jumping off the swing, too. "I think we have to go home now it's almost dinner. Come on!" The two of them started running, so I flew off and sprinted after them as the sun began to set.
We sat around the table as my aunt and mom served us dinner before joining us at the table. We ate quietly for a few minutes before I set my fork down.
"Hey auntie, can I have Emily's phone number so I can hang out with her before I leave?"
My cousins looked anxiously at one another.
"What?" I shot them a nasty look before hitting them with my napkin. They both held their hands up and shrugged.
"Um, Isa, we have some bad news... well I thought you knew," my aunt swished her drink around in its glass.
"Knew what?" I felt my palms become sweaty, so I wiped them on my shorts.
"Sweetie, Emily died. The school left everyone a voicemail."
I gave everyone at the table a weird look. "Yeah. Sure."
"I am so sorry."
"Died? How did she die? We are in fifth grade!" I stood up from the table. No one else moved.
"She was sick. The doctors do not know with what... it was very rare and she became too weak too fast and passed away. I am sorry, but she is gone."
I left the kitchen without another word and sat on the floor of my cousin's room. Died. Emily. Rare. Sick. Passed away. Gone. Never are these words that should be strung together in the same sentence when discussing a child. I was in shock and my heart was heavy. I could not believe it. Everything really had changed, and now a selfless girl was gone forever.
It has been almost seven years since Emily passed away. Seven years is a long time (2,555 days makes it seem even longer). I can probably name at least 100 things that have drastically changed in my life since then. I went to middle school, I went to high school. I played field hockey and tennis. My parents got divorced. I went to Europe. I fell in love. I lost good friends. I learned to drive. I got accepted to colleges. I got an internship and a job... in a couple months I will be a high school graduate. These are all things Emily will never get to experience, and they are all things I have taken advantage of and not fully appreciated.
I have not yet lost anyone incredibly close to me, or experienced death in such a significant way, until hearing of Emily's passing. It is not something I fully accepted either and was incapable of understanding that someone so young and full of life was truly gone. It is still difficult for me to believe. Yet, whenever anyone from school or the community passes away in Colrado, I think I have started to feel it on an extra level. I feel this loss, and I reminded of Emily. I am reminded of my young, carefree, yet insightful friend with the bubbly laugh and bright smile. I am reminded how she lost a battle and was barely given the chance to live. I am taken back to the moment that I sat on the swing, chewing a piece of bacon while Ryann cried between the both of us and we all held hands in comforting silence.
I am reminded that life will do whatever it wants to you. Everything can (and will) change at the drop of a hat. Life is precious and unpredictable. Seven years may seem like a long time, but what really is time besides a measurement? Often times, the best moments of our lives only last a split second, and some people in our lives will leave a mark that is unforgettable. There is something I will always love about sitting on a swing and feeling the wind rustle my hair, no matter how old I get and how many years pass. It is a feeling I will never be able to put words to.
I miss you Emily. Thank you for being my friend, even if it was for a short time. This poem reminds me of you, so I bolded my favorite parts. Thank you for being a part of my life for a little while. It will always be a special moment in my memory. Hopefully from this, people will learn to love those they have while they are given the chance. Until next time xxx.
A Child of Mine by Edgar Albert Guest
I will lend you, for a little time,
A child of mine, He said.
For you to love the while he lives,
And mourn for when he's dead.
It may be six or seven years,
Or twenty-two or three.
But will you, till I call him back,
Take care of him for Me?
He'll bring his charms to gladden you,
And should his stay be brief.
You'll have his lovely memories,
As solace for your grief.
I cannot promise he will stay,
Since all from earth return.
But there are lessons taught down there,
I want this child to learn.
I've looked the wide world over,
In search for teachers true.
And from the throngs that crowd life's lanes,
I have selected you.
Now will you give him all your love,
Nor think the labour vain.
Nor hate me when I come
To take him home again?
I fancied that I heard them say,
'Dear Lord, Thy will be done!'
For all the joys Thy child shall bring,
The risk of grief we'll run.
We'll shelter him with tenderness,
We'll love him while we may,
And for the happiness we've known,
Forever grateful stay.
But should the angels call for him,
Much sooner than we've planned.
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes,
And try to understand.
Saturday, February 13, 2016
Thanks to the Sky
Thanks to the sky, for it taught me how to dream. Thanks to the sky, for it showed me how beautiful reality can be.
I always find myself looking up to the swirling clouds and sparkling stars. I encourage you to do the same. Isn't it breathtaking? There is something so magical about living under a canopy of stardust. The colors mix seamlessly- blue into pink, orange, purple, and yellow, which melts into black and is studded with twinkling lights.
The sky doesn't care whether you look at it or not. The sun doesn't only set and rise when people are paying attention. You can be fast asleep, dreaming of another place, and the sun will still rise outside your window, kissing every edge of the world with light. The sun will sink beneath the horizon every afternoon, and in a matter of minutes will completely disappear.
I think everyone wishes they were as beautiful as the sky. Yet, we are all made from tiny little stars anyways, and they say that soulmates are people made up from the same stars. While I do not know how true that is, I still find it to be a comforting and lovely thought. Believing that I am part of a star makes me feel strong. It at least makes me feel as beautiful as the sky.
And remember, "the sun loved the moon so much, he died every night to let her breathe," and that is most beautiful of all. Until next time xxx. 
Solace
There is something to be said about the little moments in life that bring us comfort through difficult times. Solace is "comfort or consolation in a time of distress or sadness." Honestly, I've been quite distressed and sad for as long as I can remember. I find moments of happiness and peace when I'm surrounded by those I love and things I love doing. Yet when I'm alone, it all falls apart. Someone will say something that reminds me of another time and I crumble all over again.
But you can't say I'm weak. Maybe I cry and lose my temper and mope around on occasion, but I am not weak. Sad people are not weak. Sad people are sad. They are not weak. They aren't broken humans, but they are a little bent. I hate when people tiptoe around me, or speak negatively of those who are struggling. It is natural to struggle, and it is only human to feel pain. Sometimes, I am grateful to feel the pain, because it reminds me how capable I am of feeling love and joy.
Writing has been something that has kept me strong and sane for so long. I channel all my feelings and thoughts to words, whether it be from my pen to the paper, or my fingers against a keyboard. I write until the words are so strung together that they no longer make sense.
I am thankful in a way for my hardships, because it has taught me how to help those around me who also hurt. I don't know everything, and luckily I don't know how certain tragedies feel, but I know what it is like to feel empty and lonely.
No matter how sad I can be at times, I am forever in debt to the things that bring me solace. It is those things that give me life. Until next time xxx.
Saturday, January 9, 2016
Word of 2016
Last year, my word for 2015 was "grace." This meant to live my life gracefully, be kind to others, and let go of everyone and everything not meant for me with acceptance and gratitude. This year, my word is "health." It may not be as lovely as grace, but health in all aspects is important to me this year. It is my primary focus. Physical, mental, emotional, social health. I've been drinking a lot of water, working out, eating cleaner, journaling each day, cutting out toxic people and ending toxic relationships. I have been spending time with those who lift me up and make me laugh until I cry. I spend quality time with the people that I love and take time for myself each day. I am focusing on every aspect of my healthy and already am feeling brighter. I wish you all a happy new year full of love and prosperity. Until next time xxx.
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