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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roadblock

falling in love is like learning to drive.

at first, you stop too often,

jumpy,

and look

left and right 

left and right 

left and right

before easing your way into

the intersection.

you make your first turn;

you drive past another car

unscathed.

you learn how to

drive on your side of the road,

learn the

boundaries

of your lane.

Photo Credit: pinterest.com

before you know it,

before it hits you,

you’re picking up speed,

forgetting to turn on your signals.

you start to yield less at night,

but hey,

you haven’t hit anyone yet.

now, you have your permit,

liscence,

your first car.

freeways are nice to speed on

because you like the feeling

of the wind

whipping

across your face.

you feel your heart

race

when you run through your first red.

you drive on,

for years and years

without a crash.

you never stop to

think

anymore.

why should you?

it’s only to the store.

i’ve been there so often.

nothing will happen to me.

but,

you forget about the

sneaky,

little stop sign

after that one turn.

and

BOOM,

CRASH

you’re done.

no more DMV waits

for those

gosh darn renewals.

you wake up

in a hospital

with bleary eyes and

a broken body.

next time,

if there is one,

make sure to

stop

before you

crash and burn.

remember to love fast,

but stay safe, kid.

Grief After Tragedy

On Sunday night, a lone gunman killed 58 people and injured 515 more, during the Route 91 Harvest Music Festival. I woke up Monday morning, checked my Snapchat stories, and saw the news of this story on every major website. In English class, we talked about the shooting, as it related to our weekend reading of Shirley Jackson’s The Lottery.

A husband and wife were enjoying the country music festival, when they heard gunshots from up above. The husband got shot in the back while protecting his wife, as they ran out of the concert. His life’s work as a nurse culminates, as he saves one more life: his wife’s.

That story isn’t made up, a fabrication put in this post to add even more tragedy to the United States’ deadliest shooting to date. That is the story of Sonny Melton, a West Tennessean. His wife, Doctor Heather Melton, has spoken out about her husband’s final moments in a heartbreaking testimony.

“He saved my life,” she told WSMV, a CNN affiliate. “I want everyone to know what a kindhearted, loving man he was, but at this point, I can barely breathe.”

This breathlessness can be felt in every victim’s family as they find out about the massacre from articles, workplace conversations, or a lack of a call back. Just like how one finds out about their dad’s car crash from the police knocking at their door at 3 am. Just like I found out about my mother’s death when I woke up on Labor Day six years ago from my uncle, who had to brave a face of me, even though he just found out his sister died.

Whenever a massacre happens, I feel that initial stab in the heart for the 58 families who won’t get to celebrate another birthday, will never get another phone call, or will never see their loved one again. I feel for the 58 funerals filled with tearful eulogies and scratchy black dresses.

I feel for the daughter who has to finish her math homework with dry eyes, as she’s told to “move on with her life.” I feel for the wife who has to go to work, while she budgets for how her husband can have an open casket with a bullet hole through his left eye. I feel for the weeks of articles pinning this shooting on ISIS or a bad father, when all the families want is to bury their loved ones in peace.

Whenever we talk about death, we ignore grief and sadness. As a society, we focus on moving on and waiting for the next tragedy. I hope that those in Las Vegas take the time to mourn and that this time it sparks conversation about gun control or mental health. I hope that no more people have to die to learn how to fix our mistakes, but until then, I hope whoever reads this knows that it is okay to feel bad, to mourn.

Defeated Again

Once I again I walked off of another teams field not feeling the great feeling of victory

This past weekend the team traveled up to Los Olivos, CA to compete against the Dunn Earwigs on their parents weekend, just as we did last year.

We went into the game with high hopes, and a new play series that we had worked on all week.

We arrived at the school, and right of the bat the day was not going as planned.

Somehow the ball bag was left back at school, some 2 hours away.

We did not have our own game balls, or our own kicking tee.

We put that aside and made do, and went into our pre game routine of bananas, pretzels, and stretching.

Our Defensive Coordinator John Wickenhaeuser had dome some research that bananas and pretzels before a game does the body good if that comment seemed a little odd.

During our warm ups that same nauseous feeling returned, and I was once again off my game.

I even tried to take medicine to make this feeling go away, but it is clear that it is nerves, and I just need to be hit a few times so that I don’t think about it as much.

When the game started Dunn quickly scored their first touchdown, and we weren’t too worried, that happens in the game of football.

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Fight through Pain-It hurts to write this one, guys!

I mean that completely literally, by the way. Last night, we traveled to Maricopa to play a football game. We knew from the beginning that this one was going to be a battle.

This is probably the understatement of the century.

We worked hard and just couldn’t make anything happen on either side of the ball. We started strong, and finished strong. But somewhere in the middle, we lost ourselves a little bit.

We didn’t lose our drive and our determination. We were confused and in pain. A lot of what happened last night was very controversial, especially to the spectators, who had a pretty good view of the carnage that was being left on the field.

I want to thank the spectators that came out to support and cheer us on. I speak for the whole team when I say we could never show how much we appreciate the shouts and yells from the sidelines. Trust me, we hear you.

The reason this post hurts is actually completely physical pain. I’m still a little shaken in the head from taking as many hits as I did. Also, I have a very swollen hand that is making typing very impossible. I am also sitting in a position that keeps the computer close to my body, as I cannot fully extend my left arm.

None of that matters, however.

Pain heals itself.

We will get back to work this week and keep on going.

Enjoy this picture of men running into each other.

For those wondering who that is, yes it’s Brian Dawkins hitting Alge Crumpler :).

Honesty

Honestly, (ha), I don’t understand some people’s logic/morals anymore.

It’s as if honesty is not even a common thing anymore.

There are lies as simple as “that was my last piece of gum”, and then there are much, much more complicated lies.

I know that sometimes, a little white lie is necessary and harmless. But, where is that line between little lies and big lies?

I believe that people have forgotten that honesty is EASY. I mean, it really is.

And, being honest more often seems to lead to less mishaps in the first place that may seem to require lies later on.

I know everyone who has ever walked this earth has most likely been hurt by a lie that didn’t need to be told.

Honesty is the most important quality in a person, in my opinion. So, as of today, I am making a promise with myself to be honest about anything to anyone.

People need to realize this, and do the same… They really do.