things i wish i could ask/tell you

was i ever enough?

your inattentiveness fuels my inadequacy.

what did i do wrong?

it’s like you can’t tell i’m hurt.

can i ever do something to fix this?

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it’s happening all over again, you just don’t see it.

why can’t you see how it hurts?

she orbits around you like a moon around a planet.

why do you feel more distant, but still so close?

i’m always second place.

why are her feelings more urgent than mine?

when my world collapses on itself, it’s not even a thought.

is it even worth it?

sometimes thinking about how to fix this makes me feel stupid.

do you even like me?

it’s like you’re trying to tug at my heart; i’m too sensitive for this.

when will you realize how i feel?

oh how i wish i could tell you that this is about you.

but, would you even care?



I don’t even know what to call this.

I’m mad.

I’m sad.

I’m frustrated.

I want to punch a wall.

I want to cry.

I wanna talk to someone, but I’m scared.  I have brought it up to a few people, but they’re not the ones I want to talk to. But, I don’t know how to talk to you.  I don’t know how to tell you what I’m feeling; I don’t really know what I am even feeling.  But, I know it’s dumb.  I don’t care if you hang out with your friends, but yesterday was a bad day so it annoyed me more than it ever should have.  I don’t care if I see you later on Saturday, I don’t know why it made me upset.

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Clearly, Saturday really isn’t the thing that is getting to me.  But, I don’t really know what is getting to me.  I honestly just miss you and hate how hard it is to see you.  Also, I’m starting to develop real feelings, which I have been scared of, and have been trying to stay away from since last year.  I don’t want to push you away, but I am scared I am going to subconsciously do that.

I have no clue how to bring this up and actually say this to you and I know my hints are too subtle, but I know you’ve read a couple of my blog posts, so hopefully, you’ll read this and understand it.

Blank Page

It’s like staring at a blank page

I can’t read it.

There is no information, but I know something is on it.

Invisible ink?


Maybe the words were washed away with the last storm.

I do not know what it is,

Only that it is.

Prove to me what is on the page.

Show me the words.

Bring sight to my blind eyes.

Bring peace to my unsettled mind.

Word by word reveal what it is,

Word by word show me what this is.


Four and a half hours. 270 minutes. 16,200 seconds. For this long period of time, I was sitting on a bus to Williamstown from Boston.

Of course, once I arrived at Williams College, the scene took my breath away. It was so picturesque. Snow encrusting the roofs of the cathedral. The spiral staircase of the nation’s oldest observatory powdered with white. The magnificent grey stone dormitories that rose so high into the cold sky. It was beautiful.

But now, back in sunny California, I am worried.

I am worried that perhaps, this school, although I do want some privacy, is a bit too isolated for me.

This was my dilemma for a good few days. But the more I thought about it, the more confused I was.

But words of wisdom from my cross country coach came to me as I vented my fears. He told me that I had no reason to worry because I hadn’t even gotten accepted yet. Which is true. I was just getting too nervous. If I do get in, that is the time to worry. And besides, he said with a smile, if that’s the worst of my problems, than that’s a pretty good problem to have.

Ah. He is right. I guess it is just in my nature to worry about college. But everything happens for a reason, so if I do get accepted (or don’t) it was meant to be.

But until December 1st, I just need to wait…without worry.

Wish me luck.

Just Like That

Confused. Miserable. Alone.  Scared.

So, so scared.

The worst how empty she felt.

Where was her mother, her father, her sisters, her brothers?

Was she in their thoughts? Was it only her?
Soon, she could think of nothing. Her mind drew blank.

She faced the white, chalky wall atop her tall bunk bed, the railings red and bright. Her lungs were heavy. One breath in. One breath out.

Was this what her 13 years of life had come to?

Another deep breath out.

She closed her eyes, hoping that sleep would take over. She whispered a prayer to God that someone would find her, that she might find herself.

How silly she was to think she was alone in the midst of this struggle. How narrow minded, how blind to the future she was.

Because beneath her, with an obnoxious rustle of the sheets, a skinny girl with young, wispy hair and her insistent tapping, made it clear that she was not alone.

And just like that, without words, the little girl gave her the strength she needed.