What I had at the moment was somewhat in a state of intangibility; it belonged to me just as much as it didn’t, so I found solace in Knowing. Although the things I Knew were neither definite nor uncertain, they were all I had so I clung to them, in hopes that one day soon I would have stability and understanding along with my Knowing.
I fear growing old without someone to love. Reaching the end and realizing that I am alone—another birthday passes and I have no one to share my year with; a walk in the park or a meal at a restaurant with myself for company; days that fade into nights that fade into days, and all along I am in the presence of absence. Expired romance, haunting memories, and the lingering nostalgic scent of past lovers and forever moments.
It is so hard to be happy for someone who has shown you that their happiness will always come before yours.
Sometimes “okay” comes in waves; one day you are, the next day you’ve succumbed to the inside of your head and no matter what you tell yourself, you just can’t seem to hold on to that “okay.” It kills you inside, but what else can you do?
Take a moment and think about someone who you’ve shared yourself with. Who knows you better than anyone else, who you began to trust despite what you’ve been through because they made you feel like they could never cut you that deep. They promise you they’ll always be there, and one day you wake up and realize that they’ve left you hanging. The understanding you thought you had was a figment of your imagination. You’re hurting, and they’re the reason why. And they don’t care. You had been bruised before and they helped stitch you back up but now you feel the pain throbbing at your wounds, ready to burst out again. How foolish of you, to be so naive. To think that it all meant nearly as much to them as it had come to mean to you. It’s painfully obvious now. You are the only one in love, darling. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
Four hundred twenty-three moons ago she fell in love with the crinkle in the corner of an eye and a subtle smirk. It became real when she looked into his eyes and they invited her in without a single exchange of words. They hungered for the understanding in her gaze. Within, he was fragile. Without, he was masked. Hairline fractures threatened a shattered soul and when those eyes lured her closer, she knew that her purpose must have been to help bring truth to that crinkle and substance to that smirk. Four hundred twenty-three moons ago, under the soft glow of ten million galaxies and three hundred billion stars, two halves became a whole.
Distance either makes the heart grow fonder or provides the space to forget. Sucks not knowing which you’ll get.
Part of my maturation process has been realizing that even though I’d rather be alone when I’m upset, letting someone be there for me and talking about it is good for me.
Past wounds have left scars and they’re beginning to ache again. Thought I was okay for good but when’s it ever that easy?
My intuition is screaming at me, I don’t know why I always try to drown it out. Maybe my expectations are too lofty. I have to work on that. Maybe my perception is a skipping stone away from reality. I feel like everything is so out of my control right now and it’s driving me crazy…it’s not a feeling I enjoy. So ready to just say fuck it.
I’m hurt, actually.
love…so many things i’ve got to tell you, but i’m afraid i don’t know how…
last night I learned that frank ocean’s music is even more perfect when you’re high.
This morning my mom woke me up angry about the way my grades look on edline. And she was yelling and screaming and making a scene about me “plummeting my gpa before I graduate” and shit and it kinda got to me and that’s why I need to actually get out all the shit that’s been in my head these past couple weeks.
I’ll start by saying that I do give a fuck about my grades…it’s just a small fraction of the fuck that I used to give. And my shit isn’t terrible, it’s just not what I or she is used to. The thing that frustrates me is the fact that nobody ever seems to understand where seniors are coming from at this point in the year. I’ve been busting my ass for the past 6 years to achieve what I’ve achieved and excuse me if I feel more entitled than I actually am, but I think that I deserve a break before I go in to bust my ass for 6 years of college. I have a 4.2 gpa, a 30 on the ACT, damn near a full ride scholarship to college, I’ve had a job most of the year and I have a job lined up for summer. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve done my part and I’ve done it damned well. Freshman year, sophomore year, junior year, even seventh and eighth grade year at WY, were important years—I had to whip work then entire way through, no slipping. Sorry, but the last three weeks of senior year are NOT important, so why can’t I chill now to make up for the complete LACK of chill I’ve been able to do for the past 6 years? Like…what? I don’t understand why no one gets this.
I love my mom to death and I wanna make her proud and she obviously isn’t proud of the way my shit looks now, even though regardless of how edline looks I always pull through when it’s report card time. So I’ma put some effort -_- into these last couple weeks -__- so that she’ll be happy with the way I leave high school. I’m just frustrated that she feels so strongly about some shit that legit doesn’t matter. I’m not failing anything…I’m not even close. The fact that she’s in my room yelling about Bs at 7 in the morning blows my mind…but whatever.