Forgetful

I like to talk to you when life gets overwhelming. You help me forget about everything else for a while.

I know you don’t try to be, but you’re selfish sometimes. I like that, though.

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You talk about yourself most of the time, but that’s sort of what makes you so easy to talk to. I don’t have to worry about what to say because you don’t ask me about myself very much.

I’m always so wrapped up in everything going on with my own life. Problems with family, school, friends – there’s always some different worry bouncing around my head.

When I’m with you, they all slow down for a while. Sometimes, if I’m lucky, they disappear completely. It’s nice to get a break from myself.

I don’t think about anything else when we’re together. You’re so, so distracting, but always such a welcome distraction.

It’s sort of worrying, the way I forget about myself when I’m with you.

But like I said, sometimes I like to forget.

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Him

Love is confusing.

There are no constants.

There are no answers.

There is no proof.

I can’t hold it.

I can’t ask a question and have a straight answer.

The more I think, the less I truly know.

I thought I stopped loving you,

but did I ever even start?

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Of course, I did.

There’s no way I didn’t.

Why are some days so hard and some so easy?

Why can I look at you one day and not feel a thing?

Yet, the next day, I look at you and have butterflies bursting out of my stomach.

I know I don’t love you,

There’s no question about that.

I don’t love who you are, not anymore.

I look back and I still love the man you were.

I love the man who cared about people and wasn’t afraid to show it.

The one who gave hugs to people who looked down.

The one who cared about everyone.

The one who was a little shy and awkward.

I love him,

not you.

That’s not you anymore.

Was it ever even truly you

or was it some facade?

Why can’t I find him again?

He’s the one I want.

Hindsight 20/20

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My parents tell me that I broke your heart… but I deny it.

Sometimes, I think about how we used to be. I remember that one night when I texted you asking if you knew any good places to get my guitar fixed. We hadn’t really ever talked that much before this so I was shocked by your answer. “I can fix it for you, what’s your address,” you replied. You drove half an hour to my house to come pick up my guitar. You didn’t just pick up my guitar; you played my piano, talked to me, made me laugh, and told me I had a beautiful voice and you would love to play music with me.

From that night we became closer. I remember how excited I got when you would text me, how nervous I was when you would come over, and how happy I would be when we played music together.

Weeks went by and, even though you lived half an hour away, we’d hang out almost every night after swim practice. I remember my best friend saying how perfect you were for me. At that moment, I agreed. You were an amazing guitarist who was looking for a singer in your band. You were funny and entertaining. You were an amazing swimmer. And, you actually paid attention to me, something I had never really experienced from a guy.

One night, I heard a knock on my door. There you were with a guitar case, my guitar case. I opened it to find my guitar clean, polished, and fixed. I thought you were just going to replace the string that I had snapped. I was shocked. I offered you money, but you wouldn’t take it.

That night, you kissed me. I had kissed people before in dares, spin the bottle, or other stupid party games, but this was my first real kiss. My heart beat a million times a minute, my cheeks were probably bright red, and I remember thinking how perfect that moment was. It’s crazy how much things have changed since then.

I remember how you would surprise me with flowers; how we would sneak into your guest house when your parents were home, so we wouldn’t get caught; the guitar lessons you gave me; and the food you would buy me. I met your whole family. We did a triathlon together. You finished way before me, but as soon as you crossed the finish line, you ran back to do the final stretch with me. When I ran my marathon, you woke up at five am to drive to the starting line and cheer for me and you were their when I crossed the finish line. Then, there was the time you told me you loved me, I said it too.

It seems like everything happened so fast. I had so many firsts with you. I had so many good memories with you. Before this, guys always ignored me, wanted nothing to do with me, and would never want to be part of any relationship with me.  I never thought I would be the one hurting you.

I was happy in the beginning, for the first couple months, but as time went on, something changed. You didn’t change though, you continued to so many nice things for me and be the amazing person you are. You wrote me a song, comforted me when I was down, wrote me letters when I went to sleep away camp, went on hikes with me, and told me I was beautiful. You didn’t change at all, but my feelings did.

I started acting weird. I became a bit distant. I don’t know why I stopped feeling the same for you, it just happened. The day I told my parents I wanted to break up with you they said not to. “He’s so perfect, stick with him,” they said. My mom would get mad when ever I asked her how I could break up with you.

I tried to feel the same way about you again, I really did, but I just couldn’t. The day I broke up with you, you cried. You said you were okay and that it wouldn’t change our friendship, but we both knew that was a lie.

I cried too. I felt like such an awful person. My mom would tell me I deserved to feel that way, because of what I did to you. My best friend would say it too.

It’s been over half a year since we dated, yet its almost like whenever you look at me, you seem sad.  We’re in the same friend group, so I see you sometimes when I’m with my friends. A couple weeks ago, I asked you what was wrong. “Whenever I see you, I just get sad. I get so jealous when I see you with other guys. I still love you,” you said.

Now, we barley talk. It’s awkward when people say your name.

Sometimes I think about how we used to be. My parents tell me that I broke your heart… I don’t deny it.

 

powerless (it’s ok)

sometimes i think about how powerless I am,

how powerless we are.

how that even when your world or mine will stop,

the waves would still crash.

how time doesn’t stop for anyone.

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how nothing really matters.

how the world couldn’t care less about you or who you love.

when i go surfing is probably when i feel most powerless;

it’s not a bad thing though.

i don’t mind.

truly, i’m ok with it.

people say i’m “unmotivated,”

but, truly, it’s not that (or at least that’s not how I think about it).

i just think a lot of the things we spend time focused on don’t matter.

we are wasting time,

time we don’t have in the first place.

i want to spend time on the things that matter to me-

right now.

no, i don’t know where i’m going.

the only reason i’m speeding up is because i’ll get in trouble if i go at my own pace.

sometimes i think about how powerless i am.

Heartbroken

A couple days ago, my friend said to someone that it triggered her seeing couples affectionate in public, because it reminded her of how her ex wasn’t around anymore.

I added onto the conversation by saying that’s how I felt the past three years, not the missing an ex, but about being affected by seeing couples in public.

She responded by saying it wasn’t the same and I understood it wasn’t the same; that I haven’t experienced letting go of someone you’ve loved for so long.

But, being alone the whole time sucks just as much and I wish she understood that, because she pushed my feeling aside as if it didn’t matter how I have been feeling for most of my high school years.

The last three years, I watched my best friends fall in love and have boyfriends who loved them just as much and I was all alone. My subconscious constantly reminded me that they would always choose their boyfriends first, that they would always love them more. I don’t really blame them, though. If I had someone like that and a relationship like that in my life, I’d probably feel the same way, act the same way, and be the same way. It still hurts being the fifth wheel, instead of simply being a friend. It still hurts knowing no one would feel that way about me. I knew they were happy, though, and I supported their happiness. But, all I wanted was that they knew the slightest bit how it felt for me.

I’m always the one to say I don’t care about relationships. I say that I’m not clingy enough to be a girlfriend or that I’m too focused on friendships, academics, and equestrian to even think about being in one. In reality, that was a big, fat lie. I guess it’s not the relationship itself I craved, but wishing to be someone’s treasure or world, to have someone love me as much as I love them, even for a short period of time. I hope they’re thankful for it forever, even if it wasn’t permanent, because it’s something I’ve never experienced yet.

And something I’m scared I never will.

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Making an Impact by Reducing It

I saw this tweet a few days ago and I think it is something we all need to be more concerned with.

And, it’s not just about climate change, it’s about everything involving the environment. We’ve done a lot of damage. When it comes to bettering our environment, it’s too late for preventative measures. We’re just playing catch up now.

Sometimes it’s hard to do the right thing. We’re so used to living the way that we do, it’s not always easy to put the planet first.

If you want to reduce your impact or help the planet but don’t know how, here are a few things you can try implementing into your routine:

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  • Say no to plastic. The next time you eat out, tell your server you don’t need straws. Especially, if it’s fast food. There is no reason for you to take a lid and a straw for your drink. Buy glass bottles instead of plastic ones – they’re easier to recycle. If you’re planning on eating out, bring reusable containers to take left overs home.
  • Be mindful of product packaging. For example, buy bar soap instead of liquid soap. This can include shampoos and conditioners; there are plenty of eco-friendly options that don’t use plastic packaging. Don’t buy anything with excessive packaging. Cardboard or paper packages are the best options. Buy in bulk as much as you can.
  • Buy second hand. I understand that, from time to time, it’s nice to treat yourself to a new item and that’s fine. But, for the most part, you can find everything you need at thrift stores and you’ll save money too. There are also plenty of websites where you can buy used items (for those of you who like online shopping).
  • Keep it local. Shop at farmer’s markets and support local businesses. Buy produce that is in season. This reduces the distances that items need to be transported and causes less fuel emissions.
  • Don’t waste food. Shop for groceries using a list and only buy what you need. Don’t cook more food than you can eat. It is better to have no leftovers at all, but, if you do, try to actually eat them later.

If you’re looking for more ways to reduce your impact, do some research. There is so much information out there that can help us be better.

I’m not perfect. I try my best to be conscious of everything I do and the impact it will have, but I still have a lot of ways in which I could be better.

To some people, conservation might seem like a hopeless cause. But as long as we’re trying, if each day we do one more thing that reduces our impact, then, there is still hope.

The Curse of The Writer’s Block

We all know writer’s block. You want to type and create, but, no matter what you throw on to your page, it pretty much sucks.

Sometimes, you have an idea you want to write about. You keep trying and trying and typing and deleting and editing and, eventually, slamming your head on the keyboard. Sometimes, you don’t even have anything to write about and, honestly, that’s just a lost cause then.

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I don’t think I’ve ever had as much writer’s block as this year. I have so much I need to write. Reading journals. Blog posts. Articles. 10 billion college essays. And, most of the time, I cry over my weirdly-constructed sentences that took me 5 hours to write.

So, what do I do? What I find to be surprisingly helpful is to write. Just write anything. Write about your day, about your favorite food, about anything you can possibly put into words. Scribble in your notebook, your journal; just write anything. At one point, the nonsense you are putting down on your page will turn into something somewhat comprehensible. Keep writing and, at one point, you will be back to where your true writing capability actually is.

Writer’s block is a curse, a spell put onto students to make them even more frustrated and mentally unstable than they already are. But, don’t worry, it’s only temporary!