Even If It Wasn’t Enough

You called me beautiful underneath the blue midnight light. Your hands were around my waist, your face illuminated with your favorite color, my thoughts were with you and only with you.

I can feel your breath hitting my cheek as I remember it all. I feel your warmth surrounding me in the otherwise cold air, I feel your hair falling into my face, followed by your fingers, gently pushing it back into place.

It’s a heart-wrecking game you play with me, and you don’t even know it. With all my willpower I’m desperately trying not to fall for you more than I already have, trying not to lose myself in another illusion and another love. But this is different. You are different and my weak little heart can’t handle it. Because with seemingly every blink of your existence, I fall.

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I want to let it happen. I want to fall and not stop until we both hit the ground. I want to see where we can go, what we can do. But I’ve been hurt before and I’m scared. Mainly, I think, because I don’t want you to ever feel that way. It’s taken me so long to recover, and, deep down, I know that we are so much more than anything I could have ever experienced. I can’t imagine what would happen to us if we let ourselves go the way I wish we could. I know it would be beautiful.

One more week. I could spend that week thinking about all I just said, dwelling on the sadness that flushes through my body whenever I think of the little time we have left. But I shouldn’t. I should use that time, use it wisely, use it happily. I should enjoy it, every second of it, because I don’t want to regret anything. I don’t want to look back on the time we have wasted, I want to remember all that we had, even if it wasn’t enough.

mind matter @ midnight

one more week… how insane.

i’m in such a state of limbo,

i don’t know if i’m going to be longing to come back soon.

next year, this school won’t be my place anymore.

my room will be somebody else’s moldy problem.

my friends will be all around the world,

too far away.

i hope this summer is an easy one.

i need a good transition from high school to college.

i want to write and travel and make new friends and read a shit ton of books.

 he time that’s been romanticized in books and movies is here and it’s zipping by! 

oh, what a world i live in.

looking back

tonight i have been feeling extra reminiscent.

i saw a picture from where i used to live and i couldn’t help but think, don’t get me wrong i am so grateful to be where i am and to have met the people i have, but i can’t help but think what it would be like if my mom never got re-married.

what if i still lived half with my dad and half with my mom? if i never came here at all?

i’ve never thought about the house since we moved out, but now that i am, i miss it.

i miss the holes in the walls separating the living room and the hallway where the old buddha statue sat on the ground.

i miss the CD player in my sister’s room and i miss when she would make me dance in front of her cool high-school friends.

i miss when my siblings would get along and when my grandma would still cook for us during the holidays.

i miss the little cabinet in the hallway across from my dad’s room that held all my shitty clothes he would find for me.

i miss the trampoline and my brothers old drum set that was in the garage.

i miss when my dad would take me to blockbuster, when he would let me ride my sisters’ electric scooters, and when we would sneak into the elementary school down the street to play handball.

i even miss the pasta he would make every single night, the scratchy popcorn ceiling, and being forced to sit on the floor in the living room and watch avatar with my dad.

i miss my family, i miss my old neighbors.

i miss my family, my sisters, my brother, my dad, my grandma and her boyfriend (rest in paradise by the way, marvin). like i said, feeling a little extra-reminiscent tonight.

i miss being young. shit! one day soon, i’m going to miss being the age i am now.

how do i make the time stop?

photo credit: pinterest.com

 

The Month of May

I used to think it was all behind me. I truly thought that, but something recently has been telling me that maybe it’s not.

I’m no longer skinny. I’m no longer underweight. I don’t weigh eighty-something pounds anymore. My heart isn’t in critical condition like it was. I no longer refuse to eat. I no longer have an eating disorder. The physical parts are gone, but some of the mental parts have stayed. No, I no longer cry before every meal,  have multiple panic attacks daily, or slit my wrists. I no longer do any of those things, but sometimes I feel like I’m trapped in the days that I did.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m so much better than I was. So, so, so much better than I was. I guess what I’m trying to say is: yes I’m better, but no, I’m not perfect.

I’ve been stressed studying for finals lately, so I decided that skipping lunch would give me more time to study. There’s nothing wrong with this; its normal to skip meals time to time. What made me know something was up came later. I wasn’t skipping meals to lose weight or get skinner, it was for another reason. When I would skip lunch, my stomach would begin to gnaw and churn after a while. I like the feeling because it tells me that nothing is in my stomach, that my stomach is empty… I like it because the feeling of hunger distracts me from the emptiness I feel almost every single day.

Certain things give me flashbacks of what I went through, almost like PTSD in a way. For example, when my father buys a certain brand of sliced turkey. One day, my father had gone to the store. I asked him to buy a specific type of turkey, the turkey with 50 calories per two ounces. When he came back, he had bought a type which had 52 calories. I began to cry, my frail and bony body collapsed and my mother lunged to the floor where I lay, just as scared as I was, and tried to get me up. I wouldn’t move. I just stayed there. I just stayed on the floor sobbing and mumbling the words “I don’t want to live anymore” over and over again. My mom held her thirteen-year-old and dying daughter in her hands. She picked me up carefully and carried me to my bed, where she laid with me and we cried in unison… all of this over turkey. Now, whenever I see this brand of turkey in the fridge, its like that day fills my mind, takes over me, and haunts me. It’s different though, I’m not the girl on the floor anymore. I am a ghost watching in the corner, unable to do anything as I watch my mom and I suffer. As much as I try to reach out to myself and say “i’s okay, it’s going to be okay,” I can’t. As much as I try to get the memory to stop looping in my mind, it continues to replay and replay with more and more detail every loop.  Just like the turkey, there are many more symbols equated with awful memories from my eating disorder. Natural Cafe,the white tank top on the bottom of my dresser,Pressed Juicery, my birthday, King’s Hawaiian Rolls, string cheese, buzz-cuts, and safety pins are just some of the items tied with memories even worse than the one above. Memories that I try to keep locked away for a reason.

I like to pretend like it’s behind me, but deep down I know it’s not. I honestly don’t think it will ever be. I’m not saying that I am in danger in any way shape or form if going back to how I used to be. All I am saying is (in honor of mental health awareness month) it’s okay to not be 100% okay.

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Fat

When I look in the mirror, that is all I see.  Fat everywhere.  I always look down and wonder how I got like this.

Photo Credit: Pinterest.com

Over the summer, I worked out every day and ate well.  People could actually see the difference and I was happy.

Now, I sit in my dorm doing nothing but gaining weight.  I can’t even look at my prom photos because of all the fat I see on myself.

My friends and boyfriend don’t understand what I mean when I say I am fat.  Somehow they don’t see it, but that’s all I see.

I mean, maybe I am the problem.  Maybe my brain is messed up and that’s why I see myself the way I do.  I have never been able to see myself as anything but fat since fifth grade.  But, now, when I look back I know that was never true, so maybe I can only ever see myself as fat no matter what I do.

I wish I could look at myself and just see how I truly am to everyone else around me.

Maybe this summer once I go back to the gym everything will be different, but I don’t know if I will ever really see what I look like when I look in the mirror.

A Magnet’s Purpose

The purpose of a magnet is to attract metal. If placed anywhere within the proximity of metal, it will work tirelessly until it has gathered all the metals in its reach, until it is centered within them, until its job is done. Because that’s what it’s supposed to do, that is its purpose.

I believe that we aren’t too different from magnets in that way. I believe that we, too, have a certain purpose in life, and that, in some way, we will be driven towards that purpose and our destination of fulfilling it. And then, when we’ve done what we could, did what we had to do, we are content. We will be set in place, centered, and done.

Photo Credit: educationquizzes.com

However, I wonder what that purpose is for me. I wonder if I am anywhere close to reaching it or even if that whole process of attraction has already begun. Throughout the past years, I’ve changed my course of life quite a bit. If someone would have told me five years ago what my life looks like right now, I would have probably had trouble believing them. For the longest time, I never felt like I was going in a certain direction. But, lately, I’ve been feeling a certain pull, like an unsteady compass. I’m getting there, wherever that may be.

I am still moving, I am still trying to find the pieces of metal around me that will one day make out my purpose. I’m still moving (I’d honestly hope so). I still have almost a whole life ahead of me. Whether I’ll be successful, I don’t know yet, I couldn’t know. But at least, for now, I am moving.

If You Love Something, Set it Free

I know the saying: “If you love something, set it free.  If it comes back, it’s yours.  If it doesn’t come back, it was never meant to be.”  It’s true for some people and perfect for them, but it’s shit.  Why should I have to set you free to know that you’re the right one?

Photo Credit: Pinterest.com

I love you and I don’t want to set you free to know that.  When I look at you, I don’t doubt anything about us, so why should I let you go?

At the same time, I don’t want to hold you back.  I know it’s four years and that’s too long to stay in a long distance relationship, but I want to be selfish and keep you.

There is a big chance that you will come back, but how do I know that is going to happen?  Four years is a long time, we both could meet new people or become new people.

Part of me wants to ignore every guy I meet in college to make sure I am single when you move to Tennessee, but what if you meet someone that makes you happier than I ever could?

The other part of me wants to move on and date many guys so I am not the one stuck in the past hopelessly in love with someone who found somebody else, but I know that I won’t be able to do that.

I love you so much and I don’t want to hold you back.  I wish that this relationship didn’t hold you back, but I guess if it does I will let you go.

Time and Time Again

You build me up, take me, and use me then leave me to fall apart. But, the saddest part is that I let you do it time and time again.

Deep down, I think you know that I love you. I think you deny it though, thinking that I don’t love you makes it easier for you.

Easier to text me and tell me you want to spend time with me, then completely shut me out once you’re satisfied.

Sometimes you don’t even go, though. You text me again to bail out and it hurts more than being played, because, at least when you play me, I get to spend time with you. I get to be close to you and I get to feel like you might actually care about me.

You’re not the only guy that does this. I reach out to others to try and forget you. They play me too, but it’s different than what you do. They tell me I’m beautiful, pretend to actually care, send me hearts over text, tell me they love me, then they shut me out.

You just shut me out after you use me, you don’t pretend to genuinely like me. That should make it easier, but it makes its harder.

I see you around school five days a week. Sometimes I feel like I’m invisible to you, sometimes you talk to me and we act as close friends, than somedays I feel like you purposely avoid me. I’m probably overthinking this though, I doubt I matter enough to you for you to even ignore me.

I know this is bad, but its gotten to the point that I’ve been hurt so much that I talk to multiple people at once, so that when one guy bails, there is still another one that I think cares about me.

Every time another guy plays me, it hurts. It hurts a lot. I cry… I cry for hours. Every time I think someone might genuinely like me, but then they tear me apart and cast me out, just like you do.

Every time another guy plays me, it hurts. It hurts a lot, but at least I’m not thinking about you. Thinking about you hurts even more. I know I’ll get over the other guy in a couple weeks or months depending on how much I cared, but I know no matter how many days, weeks months, years, I’ll never get over you.

I’m not an object. I’m not disposable. You cant just throw me away when you’re done. I’m not a piece of paper you can crumple up and throw away when you’re finished.

I hate what you do to me. I hate even more that I let you. And I hate the most that I’m standing here waiting, hoping, yearning for you to text me again.

 

Photo Credit: Time Magazine

Another List

Usually when I don’t know what to write about, I make some sort of list of things that make me happy, things that calm me down, things that remind me of home. But it seems like I’ve run out of ideas for positive lists like that, so here’s a list of things I hate:

  1. trash in nature
  2. when people are rude to the cashier
  3. math
  4. losing
  5. watching cocky people win
  6. watching pretty much anyone other than my team win
  7. public speaking
  8. not having any socks left
  9. being left on read
  10. artichokes
  11. being disliked
  12. feeling like you have to sneeze but not being able to sneeze
  13. racists
  14. ignorant people
  15. my bad communication skills
  16. Photo Credit: i.pinimg.com

    change

  17. blisters
  18. nightmares
  19. bad actors
  20. feeling left out
  21. walking on the street alone at night
  22. clowns
  23. loneliness
  24. self doubt
  25. jet lag
  26. assigned seating
  27. OVS wifi
  28. jacob sartorius
  29. fun killers
  30. heights
  31. not being respected
  32. swarms of insects
  33. overcooked pasta
  34. people in mascot costumes
  35. dress code
  36. overpriced clothes
  37. snoring
  38. loud chewing
  39. plastic straws
  40. running out of time

Interstellar

I like space and planets and the stars. It amazes me and it’s its nice to know that there are some things that no one understands. I think it’s humbling in a way.

I get caught up in my own life; my problems seem so big and overwhelming. When I’m trapped focusing on my life, I forget that I am one person out of eight billion. I forget how small I really am.

It bothers me so much seeing people who think they are better than everyone: better than other people, better than animals, better than everything. People destroy nature, kill animals, and hurt others all because they think they can. They think that they’re above everything.

I wish I could tell them. I wish they could just understand that they are just one letter in a thousand page essay, one raindrop in a ten hour storm, one frame in a five hour documentary, one out of 8 billion tiny insignificant people.

The stars are a good reminder. As big as you think you are, as big as you think your problems are, there is always something bigger.

 

Photo Credit: Festim Kelmendi