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.

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.

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: 

(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. 

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. 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?

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?  

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.

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.