Suffocated

I knew you before, but we had never talked. I knew of you.

It was just recently that I met you. When you looked at me, I blushed. I felt something I couldn’t describe.

You had my number from a while back and you texted me that night… You told me how we had this connection that was rare and beautiful.

You said that you wanted to get to know me better. I said I wanted to too.

I had heard bad things about you, but I didn’t believe it. And in the end, it wasn’t you who was at fault, it was me.

You made me feel special, loved, happy.

We talked for hours. I told you my insecurities, you told me your secrets too.

But, apparently, I scared you off.

I remember saying “I’m scared that if you get to know me, you won’t like me anymore.”

You promised that would never happen, that I could never scare you away.

Well, you lied. In less than a day, you got distant. I got scared; I reached out.

You went from saying things that made me feel adored, to saying nothing at all.

I couldn’t stand it, I knew I should have let you be, but I couldn’t.

“Do you still like me?” I asked.

“Yes, but your feelings are kind of suffocating right now,” he replied.

“I’m sorry, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Thank you,” you said.

Suffocating…

You had told me you wanted something that would last, you told me to be clingy, you told me you wanted to be with me for a long time,

Yet in two days of talking, you call me suffocating.

How can you say you still like me but you want me to leave you alone?

How can you have said that I was the perfect girl for you, then turn me away the next day?

I’m suffocating…

It’s hard to breathe the absence of love. It’s not that I loved you, I guess I just loved the thought of you. I thought you were perfect.

“Love’s like oxygen. You get too much you get to high, not enough and you’re going to die.”

You built me up, maybe it was part of your manipulating trick. You built me up so much, made me feel so special, then stripped it all away.

We’ve only known each other for three days, it’s almost impressive how you manage to hurt me this bad.

I can’t breathe, I feel empty.

Like a void, a wound, a puncture in my chest.

I’m gasping for air, yet I’m still suffocating.

Photo Credit: pinterest.com

They warned me about you, told me how your kindness was just a way of manipulating me into getting what you wanted.

But the sad part is, I went a long with it, I feel so hard for you that I would have given you what you wanted.

I’ve cried, I’ve stayed in bed for almost a day… all of this for you. My spirit builds up so high when I get a notification on my phone. Maybe it’s you. It never is.

You broke me.

And yet you say you’re the one suffocating.

But at the root of it all, it’s not you at fault.

You gave me a chance; I blew it.

I came on too strong maybe? I tried to talk to you too much maybe?

I’m sorry I made you feel suffocated.

If only I could have been better. If only I could be better.

Maybe then someone will love me.

Until then,

I’m just here

suffocating.

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12 Minutes of Word Vomit!

Photo Credit: Amor Fati/Wordpress.com

I have an existential crisis almost every night.
The fire was a year ago. That scares me.

The music is too loud outside my window and
my eyes hurt from staring at a screen for so long.

I’m having an existential crisis tonight. It’s because of Calculus homework.
I could post about it. Maybe someone will say I’m pretty.

She hasn’t replied to my email yet and I worry that my writing is boring.
But my teacher says I’m good at Spanish, so at least I have that.

My eyes are dry. They almost always are.
I say I’ve never been in love before but that’s not true.

Photo Credit: Pinterest.com (and this is supposed to be ironic)

I am in love right now. It’s just the sad kind.

I could post about it. Maybe someone will say I’m pretty.

He likes the finality of writing things down on paper. I like it too. (But as I wrote this, I knew I would type it out later.) I like the way he thinks because he is an intellectual.

It’s not always about the words themselves,
it is about what they mean and how they feel.

My room is too cluttered and so is my mind.

I want to leave my house and live somewhere far away.

My life is a mess and I’m having an existential crisis tonight, but I met a famous person once. And a different famous person has a relative that goes to my school, so I think I will post about it.

I wish I could write songs. They would probably be boring.

And maybe this doesn’t make sense to some people.

Oh well.

“i think i loved you before i knew you”

you are some type of artist- any kind whether it be you’re a musician, film-maker, painter, writer, or dancer. it doesn’t matter what type of art but you create it, it’s ok even if you only show me.

you do extraordinary things, things you don’t even tell me about. i want to know you’re doing big things even if i don’t see you. big things can really be as small as you want. long story short, i just want to know you’re do good things you don’t feel the need to tell me about. i just want to know you’re always being kind.

i need you to have an open mind- i want you to be able to be open to the possibility of anything and everything? you say you hate pop music but you really mean you hate bubblegum pop which i stand behind.

you need to be better than me. tell me to stop being mean! encourage me to learn! teach me things!  tell me to stop being mean, tell me to stop being mean, tell me to stop being MEAN! teach me things!

i need you to make me laugh. i want to look at each other when we overhear something we weren’t supposed to and start cracking up. i want to look at my texts and see that you thought of me when that kid on a skateboard with a beanie on was playing Ode to Viceroy by Mac Demarco on repeat because… well, we know why.

make me scared to lose you. you have to make me feel like i could never lose you or else i would lose my whole heart too. you will accomplish this by not being too clingy; don’t always touch me and make me feel clustered, so it feels special when you hold my hand.  don’t love me any less, though. please don’t play games with me or else i might get insecure and end things before you can finish your sentence.

dependent, we can not be too dependent on each other because that’s toxic, we must find a balance.

you’re brilliant. it doesn’t have to be conventional. you don’t have to have a 4.0 or even a 3.5. you probably think the school system sucks and i probably agree. grades do not determine how intelligent you are! you can be smart in the way you think, the way you speak, your ideas, or the way you project your mind. there are so many ways to have a beautiful mind; i know you will have one.

you’re loving/lovable. you don’t care that sometimes i’m distant when i’m sad and you only try to bring me closer. somehow you will break that barrier between us and i’m sorry it’s going to be hard to do and god can only hope it’s possible, but i know you will (even though it’s going to be scary).  you don’t care about how i look when i cry even though my face gets really red. you love me for everything i do and probably much more than i love myself. and i love you too.

i haven’t met you yet, or maybe I have, but i don’t know you well enough to be able to tell. one day, i will fall in love with you and hopefully you fall in love with me too. god, i hope it’s soon, but if it’s not that’s ok too.

(this is a blog about how i used to have absolutely NO standard. i took anything/everything i could because i did not value myself. i am growing into myself and now am setting some standards, because i am wonderful! i am meaningful! i am appreciated! no matter how much i don’t believe it, i know in some way or form it is true. i value myself too much to continue to “give” myself to people who are irrelevant in my life. not to say everyone i have ever talked to other than platonically is irrelevant in any way, but i have talked to some people who are irrelevant in my own life, but are going to be the most meaningful in someones else’s. i’m going into 2019 with expectations! for myself and the people i surround myself with not only romantically!)

photo credit: pinterest.com

 

silly boy !!!

i remember you so well.

your blonde hair and blue eyes,

how you made me fall for you,

where my first kiss was and how i skipped away.

i remember thinking i’d never meet someone like you ever again.

you told me that i would, that boys will get better in a few years.

i never did meet anyone like you again, though.

but i don’t know if i did if i would fall so hard again.

you weren’t completely responsible for having my whole heart.

you just had me when my heart was the fullest and i needed to project it

and you knew the right things to say and do.

silly boy took my heart years ago!!!

i don’t know if i’ll ever have that again,

a full heart that is.

i’m not still hung up on you,

not at all.

but i was too young for what you did to me.

you opened me up and i felt

and i felt.

and if we stayed together, my feelings probably would never have died.

i know you didn’t mean to, but

i’ve never felt that way about anyone ever again,

it’s so unfair because

now i do what you did.

i know you didn’t mean it, because i surely wasn’t your first.

you were made for me, but i wasn’t made for you-

it happens.

when i do it, i don’t mean it either.

maybe i was made for you, but you surely weren’t made for me.

although, i wish I was.

silly boy took my heart years ago!!!

 

photo credit: pinterest.com

The Ghost in my Kitchen

There’s a ghost in my house. I’ve been talking to her.

She doesn’t talk back very often. In fact, I’ve only heard her once. I think she told me her name.

But the thing is, I’m not even sure if she’s real.

If she’s not actually there, that means I’ve been asking lots of questions to absolutely no one for about a week, which is slightly embarrassing. But if she is there, that means I can talk to ghosts, which is kind of badass. Regardless, I’m putting this story on the internet, so I guess you can decide for yourself.

It all started when we were eating dinner. I looked down the hallway and saw a white silhouette so clear that I thought it was my brother. I asked him what he was doing and turned around to find him walking into the kitchen behind me. I looked back in the other direction, but the figure wasn’t there.

“I just saw a ghost,” I said, quite matter-of-factly.

My dad, the self-proclaimed cynic, is surprisingly interested in the “supernatural,” if you will. While he’s never seen an actual ghost-like figure, he’s experienced quite a few unexplainable events.

He proceeded to text my aunt, who is our go-to gal for all things psychic and told her I’d seen an apparition. To put her into perspective, she once made me come to a meditation with her, involving tinctures, crystals, incense – the whole set-up. (Whilst there, I discovered that in my past life I may have died in 9/11, but that’s a story for another day.)

Photo Credit: pinterest.com

She responded saying that I needed to ask the ghost what it was doing and why it had made itself known to me. I eyed my father skeptically.

“I would do it, dude, but she [my aunt] says you’re more in-tune with this kind of thing,” my dad said to me, in a manner that reminded me of a little kid trying to convince his mother to buy him a lollipop.

My mom assured me that I didn’t need to attempt to communicate with the ghost if I didn’t feel like it.

But I felt a sense of obligation, like this was my duty. This was a task that had to be done, and only I could be the one to complete it. I was Gilgamesh setting out on his quest, but instead of searching for immortality, I was just trying to talk to a dead person.

So anyway, that’s how I started talking to this ghost in my house. At first, I was a little freaked out, but from what I’ve concluded from our encounters, I think she’s friendly and just here to visit, so I’m not worried.

I think she was telling me her name is Mary. The reason I’m not exactly certain I heard it correctly is because I thought I might have been tricking myself. My dad’s grandmother was named Mary. She was an artist and we have her paintings hanging all over our house.

But, like I said, I’m not sure if any of this was real. I’ll let you know once I figure it out.

 

 

I am not Sad

I assumed things I shouldn’t have.

I thought it was a date.

But, I’m not sad it wasn’t.

I am just a little disappointed.

 

I thought about my outfit for days.

I planned everything out, down to the perfume I was going to wear.

But, I am not sad that I did that all for nothing.

I am just a little disappointed.

 

Photo Credit: Pinterest.com

We were supposed to drive around and do stupid things in our cars.

Instead, we sat in your truck and watched the sunset, talking for hours.

I am not sad I spent that time with you.

I am just a little disappointed.

 

The way we talked was not how friends talk.

The things that were said were clearly more than friendly.

But, I am not sad it meant nothing.

I am just a little disappointed.

 

I blabbered about us hanging out and me having feelings for you.

Then I asked if it was a date and if you were into me and all I heard was you weren’t over your ex.

I am not sad.

I am just a little disappointed.

 

I know you need time and I understand that, but why did you let me believe that there was something between us?

I am sad that you flirted with me.

I am disappointed that she is still in your head, but I understand.

(I’m calling dibs when you’re ready)

To My Best Friend, Some Things I Will Never Tell You.

If you’ve ever wondered how it feels to see a person become someone else, it’s sort of like trying to hold water in your hands. You can keep your hands cupped together for a little while, but more and more of it begins to trickle through your fingers. You panic, try to hold back as much as you can, but, eventually, there’s so little left in your palms that you just let the rest fall to the floor.

Photo Credit: pinterest.com

That’s how it felt with you. It was like I was watching everything in slow motion. I tried to catch you, but now I know that you didn’t want me to.

I didn’t believe you when you told me you were leaving. I think in the back of my mind, I had been expecting it.

You’ve been my best friend, one of the most important people in my life, for as long as I can remember. But, now, I can’t remember the last time I saw you.

It still hurts. I’m still mad and I still don’t fully understand why you chose to go. You told me you needed to do it for yourself, that you needed to be selfish.

But I never thought you were being selfish. I just thought you were wrong.

You mean so, so much to me. I miss you more than you know.

I wish I could still see you everyday. I wish you were still the one who I went to before anyone else, the person I told everything to. But you’re not anymore. I know it could still be that way if we tried, but most days I just don’t feel like trying.

I think the reason I’m still mad is because it felt like you chose them over me. It still feels that way.

It hurts to see someone change, to see them become someone different.

But what hurts more is to leave them behind, to accept that your time together has come and gone. I’m not ready to do that yet.