excerpts from stories i will never write

lying on my floor  listening to sad music  really doesn’t help my mood makes me cry harder  but i still do it  stupid me  stupid moods  stupid emotions  real life hurts  because he’s not always with me  and it’s easy to forget that we’re in different phases of life when he’s with me  i forget that we live apart and have different schedules and different everything and now i’m rambling because it’s late at night and i’ve wasted over an hour waiting for someone, amyone, to talk to me, to remind me that i’m not alone and i’m not as lonely as i feel right now but oh how it hurts  the future is so scary.  i know what i want but i’m scared it won’t happen and  i don’t know what i’ll do.  people are slowly drifting from me, and i am replacing them while i hold onto one sided friendships and i don’t like it  frick man, this isn’t fun.  i’m freezing cold and i’m not doing anything about it.  i...

and i remember why i  used to dislike seeing him because eventually we have to say goodbye and i will miss him again i miss him again --12.27.28

people at church pray for everyone as they go spend time with family especially "those that are hard to be around" and i laugh and thank God that we don't qualify for that label, that our family is all close-knit, that we  care for each other. but then i step into their house, into the half-baptist, half-presbyterian atmosphere, and not even the smells of food cooking can cover it up. you'd think that love and a common belief system would unite us, not divide us, but every time we are together we argue. this year my heart will pound as i anticipate it-- will it be before dinner?  after?  or maybe even during? i wish i was old enough  to look at them and scream telling them to stop stop debating, fighting, arguing,  stop the barely controlled yells, the heated, raised voices. we know the One we love; why is that not enough? are you all too stubborn, too headstrong to realize that we are family two times...

i mean  i guess it’s okay  but like not really  because i used to text you every day  and you’d goof around with me laugh with me  cry with me  send me things when you were thinking about me  stay up with me  give me advice  cry on my shoulder  give me a shoulder to cry on  and now that’s gone  it’s okay  not really though  maybe i’m just scared of change  like i expected we’d stay the same  you and i  you’d be in my wedding  and i’d be in yours  us every day taking on the world together  can three months of silence heal?  can separation heal?  i can’t be bitter if you come back  i’ve never been able to  because i forgive too easily  leave my heart open for everyone  it’s yours if you want it  if you so choose  but you probably won’t  i guess that’s okay.  not re...

you don't know it, but every word stabs my heart. you say they're a great friend, tell me you've been talking every day. so where was i? what am i? disposable? do you not notice how i've poured my heart into you for years now? you're there for them every day; where were you for me? where were you when i screamed at the sky and punched the ground until my knuckles bled? where were you when i cried myself to sleep and stressed so much i made myself sick? where were you when i needed you? both of you.  high school is supposed to be the time when you make friendships that make you and the two who mean most to me have decided to drop off the map. where are you? what did i do? i love until i have nothing left, and when you leave i realize i am empty. come back… --12.13.18

i told him i love his smile  and now whenever he sends me a picture  he smiles with such happiness  that it touches the corners of his eyes.  —12.4.18

and here i am crying  because it promises to satisfy but it never does because now tomorrow is day one again because i wish i could undo so many things like the past hour and that day three years ago  because i push away the voice that tells me no because i don’t want to be known as this but somehow it’s the way i see myself  because now i must admit failure to those who love me  there is no english word  to describe the pain, sorrow, regret  i feel.  i  am  sorry  —12.1.18

and maybe it's just hard  for me to realize that people will always mean more to me than i do to them. --11.29.18

i've been told that love, if it is real, will stay. you stayed. you waited.  but i'm afraid.  will you stay? if i tell them and they cut us off, will you stay? if they break us up again, will you stay? if i am put back in the time where nights and days and drives were so hard without you, will you stay? i'm so absolutely terrified that i will lose you again. i don't want to lose you again. i just don't want to lose you again. --11.27.18

sometimes i get sidetracked on pinterest.  i look at all these instagram girls-- filtered lives, long, straight hair, beautiful nights, fireflies, smiles, shorts, huge t shirts that somehow look hot, crop tops,  perfect bodies, perfect lives. i'll get sad. his face belongs in a picture like that and i feel like i'll never measure up to the girl he deserves. weird me.  with my imperfect hair, funny tastes, odd smile, not perfect. but sometimes he grabs my hand locks our fingers and looks in my eyes like they hold secrets he wants to know and he'll tell me he's the one who doesn't deserve me and it's crazy  because i feel so inadequate but he loves me and to him i am precious and it blows my mind --11.18.18

cleanse me.  please. my thoughts disgust me. i am sick.  i am a sick, twisted human being. i cannot control myself. i hate this.  i hate living like this. this terrible thing in the back of my head gnawing like a monster until i succumb to the poisonous fangs i know will kill me. wash me.  cleanse me. purify me. until this is gone and all that is left is You. i hate this so much. i want to be free. i want to live You, breathe You, speak You, love You. please. i cannot do this on my own. --11.12.18

loving him is-- wonderful he brings light to my days encouraging me strengthening me laughing with me t alking with me loving me (what a wonder!) i can't really describe it it's too hard to capture a hundred poets have already tried and i suppose they've done alright but it's so crazy like it's meant to be like we fit so well together it can't be coincidence and i knew that from the start but it's like it's been affirmed like yeah,  this is where i'm supposed to be here by his side loving him loved by him this kind of love is special and i'm glad it's ours --11.8.18

yes, i know everyone's busy this time of year. i'm a senior. life gets stressful. and it's foolish of me to assume that everyone else is like me, valuing friendships and relationships so highly. but when she's so busy that she cannot respond to a simple "good morning," then it is clear to me  that i am not a priority in her life. it's fine. i try every day but eventually i will stop. even i know when my affections are no longer desired. --10.27.18

you seem so miserable. i've always felt like a burden to you. the problem child.  the first one to go through everything,  the guinea pig, the draft. i didn't ask to be born. you're the one who signed up to be a mother. you made that decision. you tell me i'm not what i think i am but i know everything i do and everything we do gives you stress and puts pressure on you and makes you unhealthy like always. does the joy truly outweigh the sorrow? and you tell me about marriage, that the things which enamor me so much are the things that will grate on my nerves the most when i choose someone to spend the rest of my life with. you point out the things he does  that annoy you and i see myself in you and i am afraid. the reasons why i swore away marriage flood back to me--cheaters, abusers, gone. bad husbands, no husbands. divorce. death. pain. the reasons why i swore away children flood back to me--loneliness, abuse, struggle. why would i want to ...

error. touch. the interaction between the nerve endings of two human beings, and yet it is so much more. touch. when i was young i was repelled by touch, and  the child who once refused touch must have remained the same as a woman, right? wrong. touch. touch me.  let me feel the softness of your skin the heat from your face  the smoothness of the shirt on your back the caress of your fingertips.  touch.  so much emotion contained in this vessel i call my body. turmoil, tossing and turning on my bed like the waves of the ocean i love so much. it takes me over, consumes me, fighting me,  raging inside me, taking me captive-- touch. convince me i am not simply a soul trapped in a body trapped in this endless struggle of time we call the universe. let me know there are things that are real and physical. let me know you are real and physical. and so when you feel my short nails absentmindedly scratch...

it's a sacred time when you're asleep and i'm awake. --10.12.18

You told me it would be freedom. that before i was enslaved, and now i am free. then why does this feel like bondage? why do i still feel trapped? why am i so legalistic? how many of these are Your rules and how many are mine? have i put myself into a box after You freed me from a cage? how did i get here? i am afraid

when will i learn? why am i like this? disappointed my mom. again. why do i feel like such a disappointment? disjointed. out of body. lump in my throat, small voice.  i don't want to be dependent and i still cannot be the person i want to be and i stumble and i feel myself falling why am i not content? "yeah but how does this apply to me?" why didn't i keep my mouth shut. why didn't i shove away my words because words have power and i made her cry. i can't stop them from pouring out of my mouth and i hate myself because i have said unforgivable things. she tries but only makes things worse. i make things worse. why do i make things worse? afraid to go downstairs. listening to the sadness of neon gravestones. how can i show my face? i have hurt again.

almost 400 half journal entries-- i've come so far.  we're back together. he's like home, warm and comforting. how do i describe it? set the sky on fire, watch it with him by my side. i didn't know that i could fit with someone so well. i want to take the things that make his stomach turn and destroy them so he can be free from the stress. maybe this will be read before his head hits the pillow and if so, let everything slide off your shoulders-- you don't need to carry it. tomorrow is a new day, and resolutions have no deadlines. start tomorrow. start tonight. it's never too late. the future is full of the things you fill it with. so choose the right things, starting now. dream sweet. you're worth the world to me. --10.6.18

and with the psalmist i cry out, "how long, Lord?      how long will you hide your face from me?" i watch my friends fall where i have fallen  and my heart breaks i myself fall and my heart aches how long, Lord? how long will you let evil and suffering run rampant in the world? how long until you return and set things right? how long until i am completely satisfied in you, and i need nothing else to fill me? how long? how long? how long? --9.26.18

motion, whistle,  soft. silent. type, motion, whistle. read--the words, his, the voice, another's. laughter--not his. motion again. turn, watch. listening. mute. --9.24.18

they look at me and see me, but i am not here. i am on the battlefield, watching my soldiers die. --9.21.18

she hates the things she can't control so she loves the things she can. --9.17.18

he is home and i am away from home awake. --9.22.18

and suddenly i'm terrified, that a non-committal relationship is what you wanted and you didn't know until the opportunity to follow through presented itself and what if this is too much all at once and what if you back away  what if i get only half of what i've wanted for so long? what if, what if, what if… --9.17.18

i do not take love lightly. way back in the beginning, i told myself over and over and over that this time would be different. that i would not say i loved you, because i had made that mistake before, and it wasn't love. i didn't want to hurt myself again. i wanted to be sure. and when i finally told you  "i love you," i meant it. with all my heart. and nothing has changed since then. --9.16.18

i will wait.  until you've got yourself figured out.  until you're ready. until i'm ready. it hurts. to say it doesn't would be a lie.  but the good times make the bad times worth enduring.  as long as you're in my life, playing whatever role. i will wait. for you. --9.11.18

love is  being without her every day almost a year now missing her wishing we were together love is scrolling facebook and seeing her and smiling through tears because she is so beautiful and i would sacrifice everything for her love is  eagerly awaiting a text from her every morning anticipating whatever quirks life throws her way and the way she tells me  how they work out love is sharing a connection like nothing else where we can pick up right where we started after not seeing each other for months love is being there unconditionally for her and her for me because we love each other. --8.31.18

i'm tired of being "the smart one"  while my sister  maintains her reputation for being "the smart one" and "the pretty one" she's already being hit on within the second week of class. i've been there for a whole year, going on my second, and i am ignored. cold. "waiting on your cute sister?" teasing, smiling. "yeah." fake smiling, hiding real pain. "i love you, more than i love your sister." truth. "thanks." really smiling.  it means a lot to know i mean something to at least one person. --8.31.18

hurting in the pit of my stomach like the feeling i remember so well combined with a feeling of rejection. i guess i was just one to him, just another one he could use, rely on; i sacrificed myself, did everything for him, tore myself apart for him and now things have changed. did he love me? i don't know. does love end? maybe it's just a habit for me, to love the ones who never care about me. we were supposed to set the world on fire but instead we turned the matches to ourselves. one out of so many. life must be easy when you can have whatever girl you want. my throat aches and i feel sick now. thanks. for everything.  for the memories i love and hate. Jesus, how i miss him. i hate myself for it. --8.29.18

thought it was him turned around his hair his eyes his build his scent not quite but close enough to make me remember thinking about college what kind of guy do i like? wanted: male compact body type strawberry blonde, though red works too able to understand me stem minded a reader likes my music, so i can finally go to concerts with someone who cares  able to get along with me able to understand me in all my confusion steady, confident extrovert Jesus oriented hype at concerts maybe, maybe, thinks i'm beautiful and tells me so loves me, truly formulated this list at 5 am realized i was just recreating him tried not to be depressed about it failed without hope --8.29.18

a couple miles ten minutes  the same city my eyes search for you  everywhere i go, see your face in every crowd so close (close as the closest star) you feel so far --8.26.18

i do not give you my words open my heart to have it all thrown in my face this is not a point of leverage between us you will not use my own words against me what goes on between us is our business no one else's so leave it in the book where it belongs and when i pour out my heart tell me you love me and that you listen  and read  but do not throw my emotions into my face --8.26.18

bitter. angry. how can i not be? thought that cutting myself off would solve things but it's just made them worse. i look at the couples in my life--my friends, their boyfriends--and it makes me angry because they have no idea how lucky they are, just to be unafraid to love. "you can't love, you're too young." of course! that solves everything! -- YOU KNOW NOTHING. YOU HAVE NO IDEA. HOW I FEEL. HOW THE FACT THAT THE SENTENCE BEFORE THIS ONE SHOULD HAVE BEEN JOINED TO THE PREVIOUS ONE WITH A COMMA BUT IT WASN'T AND IT REMINDS ME OF HIM. HOW I LIE AWAKE AT NIGHT CRYING BECAUSE HE WILL BE TWENTY AND I MISS HIM. HOW MY HANDS SHAKE AND I SWEAT AT THE THOUGHT OF HIM BEING THERE NEXT SATURDAY AND I WON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO OR SAY AND I DON'T KNOW IF I CAN MEET HIS EYES. HOW I LOOK FOR HIS CAR EVERYWHERE. HOW I SEE HIS FACE IN CROWDS. HOW COULD YOU? HOW COULD I? I HATE MYSELF. HATE MYSELF SO MUCH. LEAVE ME ALONE.  SAD. AND LONELY. WELL HONEY, ME TOO. S...

going back, pictures of you. sweating as i think of the possibilities-- how many things can, could, might, will? go wrong, i miss you. reading an article from my mom full of short sentences, a couple grammatical mistakes, and punctuation that reminded me of your writing style. fast. choppy. disconnected. you loved me. you wrote about how you loved me, the girl with the long sentences who loves the semi-colons, who loves you. notice that? present tense. i love. i listen to love songs because i miss the feeling of loving you. i miss you so much. i want to know you're more than alive.

oh, if only you knew. if only i could tell you. every time i open up to you, you tell me why i'm wrong and you're right. i never win, with you. do you see why i don't want to tell you what's wrong? do you see why i don't want to say i can't sleep at night because i'm up late crying? but of course, i'm the one in the wrong.  you're always right. somehow you turn around the earnest outpourings of my heart and make them into arguments against me. what did i do wrong? love? what do i tell you? that when i gave him up, a part of me died and i suddenly saw no point in life, and i had no hope? you'll tell me that i should find my purpose in Jesus, and that God is using this time in my life to make me rely on Him?  then why do i still miss him? why do i still long for him? why am i still lonely? so you see, i can't tell you. i don't tell you. i almost did tonight--but i held back.  for good reason.

why won't someone ask me what's wrong? close my eyes and watch the world fade away what does your voice sound like? what does your face look like? remind me, because i've forgotten. watching my body, disconnected, like a spirit does no one see the way my smile fades? does no one wonder why?  does it only matter that i dumped him? does no one care why? does no one wonder why? asking around, knowing i'll hate myself  but i just wanna know if you're okay, alive,  you know? your only exception, except i wasn't, because i only hurt you like the others. i ache, i long for you, and i have no idea why. why? why doesn't someone ask what happened? why doesn't someone wonder why we stopped talking? i don't want to live without you. you won't know that, ever, probably. please. if you've ever loved me. reach out.  stop being such a gentleman and break my rules. even if it's just "hey. i'm alive, jsyk." i'd love...

i cry myself to sleep, sometimes because i think about how many things can happen between now and next year like if i get accepted at a local college like if i reach out to you, hoping for a second chance, hoping i can still be yours, hoping that part of you still might want me, even just a little, hoping that you'll say "finally" and let me run into your arms like if you turn me away. like if you tell me to get the hell out of your life. if you tell me that i've hurt you enough, that i don't deserve a place in your life any more. if you turn your back on me, if you can't bear to look at me, if you're happy without me.  why do i still love you? life feels empty without you, like this is just one of our breaks from talking to each other and soon i'll see you pop up in my notifications: "hey." why do i still need you? i know there is so much more to life than love, than you, than us. and still i ache without you. fears creep b...

it’s hard to do what you know is best when really it feels like you’re cutting your heart out of your chest open heart surgery, my heart was open to him— a book, his personal library. he told me i was bound shut but he didn’t know that i tore my pages out and laid them on the floor before him, around him. and when i put a match to the piles of paper surrounding him, i watched him burn within the flames, that sad smile on his face like he always had when we’d say goodbye. i watched, steel eyed and stone faced while he cried. and when it became too much i turned my face so that he couldn’t see the tears evaporating in the heat of our blaze. i tried to turn back, hoping that he would still be there, like he always was— my pillar, my support, waiting for me with arms open, always waiting for me to come home, to him, he was home— but all i found was ashes. him and i, mixed together because you can’t tell the difference when you’re both hurting— all screams sound the same...

I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANY MORE I WANT TO KILL MYSELF END IT ALL YOU'RE GONE YOU'VE DELETED ME FROM YOUR LIFE AND NOW YOU DON'T LOVE ME WHICH I KNEW WAS GOING TO HAPPEN BUT IT DOESN'T MEAN I DIDN'T CRY WHEN I FOUND THAT YOU'D DELETED THE ONE LINE I THOUGHT I HAD TO GO ON YOU'RE GONE YOU'RE GONE YOU'RE GONE YOU'RE GONE AND YOU DON'T LOVE ME I THINK I CAN NEVER LOVE ANYONE AS MUCH AS I LOVE(D) YOU YOU'RE GONE YOU DON'T LOVE ME YOU DON'T LOVE ME YOU DON'T LOVE ME I WANT TO DIE LEAVE THE WORLD END IT ALL GET IT OVER WITH WHAT'S THE POINT WHEN YOU'RE NOT WITH ME LIFE HAS NO MEANING  WITHOUT YOU I WANT TO LEAVE THIS PLACE GET OUT AWAY SOMEWHERE YOU'RE NOT TEN MINUTES DOWN THE ROAD TAUNTING ME WITH ONE OF THE BEST YEARS OFMY LIFE WHEN I WAS THE ONE WHO WAS GOING TO SAVE YOU AND YOU WERE THE ONE WHO SAW BEAUTY IN ME TAKE ME AWAY FROM HERE GET ME OUT OF THIS WORLD THIS PLACE THIS LI...

a year ago i was needed.

i don't feel and i don't want to! all this struggle,  over and over and over the same crap over and over and over again i cycle through sin and repentance and still i feel nothing! and i don't want to! i know that if i open myself i will be opening myself  to feeling about him and i don't want to do that! i know i should be sorry i know it's wrong but i'm scared and numb at the same time this morning when i asked for it to all go away the voices told me that there's a way to make it all disappear no more struggle no more longing no more falling no more failing no more loving it would be so easy so easy to just  end it all that doesn't bother me like it should i don't care anymore i have become completely apathetic nothing matters anyway --7.18.18

it makes me sick to watch thirteen year olds  on  stranger things share kisses and i roll my eyes at ten year olds in  i can only imagine carving their names on the wooden floor of a bridge  at night while they watch fireworks explode in the sky when i see the sixty year olds in  ant man and the wasp sharing a passionate kiss i want to throw up they are younger or older than i and yet  they have something i don't something i did but something that i let go because i had to life isn't fair i had love and i had to leave it why is life unfair  like this

over now.  it's over now.  my playlist is gone.  he hasn't been online in a week. he… is gone. goodbye. --7.15.18

"no matter what happens, i will take you to at least one concert. i promise." the funny thing about promises  is that they're so easy to break. would you still do that? probably not. you probably hate me. deleted music that reminds me of you. deleted music you told me about. deleted everything related to you. what kind of an idiot is still in love with someone she hasn't talked to in a week? hadn't had a decent conversation in over a month? i end here. --7.13.18

there is a boy who comes to the library sometimes i do not know him i know that he stays against the wall, sometimes to charge his phone i know he has a girlfriend, or a sister who comes with him  sometimes i know he is older than i  i know he uses the computers sometimes i know he's cried  during  one of my favorite  movies shamelessly i know he uses cologne graciously because i can recognize the smell of him from where i stand there is  a boy and i do not know him and i do not know his story but i wish i did --7.10.18

SO WHAT AM I WHO IS IT BETTER TO BE A TEENAGER WITH A NEW CRUSH EVERY MONTH OR HUNG UP OVER THE SAME MAN FOR OVER A YEAR I  LOVE HIM DO I I DO AM I HUNG UP OR AM I OBSESSED SHOULD SOMEONE MY AGE BE THIS MUCH IN LOVE WITH A SINGLE PERSON IS IT POSSIBLE TO FEEL LOVE WHEN YOU ARE YOUNG AND DUMB AND SEVENTEEN AND TOO YOUNG TO DATE IS IT POSSIBLE TO BE IN LOVE CAN I LOVE WHEN I SHOVE DOWN MY FEELINGS AND MEMORIES OF HIM BUT THERE IS STILL THAT VAGUE FEELING OF MISSING SOMETHING OF MISSING HIM OF A PART OF ME MISSING IT HAS BEEN OVER A MONTH SINCE OUR LAST NORMAL CONVERSATION AND STILL HE IS MY FIRST THOUGHT WHEN I WAKE AND WHEN I SLEEP AM I IN LOVE OR IS THIS WHAT BEING SEVENTEEN MEANS --7.7.18

have you ever felt numb? really, truly numb;  like nothing in life matters anymore, like you could jump off a bridge and no one would care,  like your most intimate thoughts are  dust. have you ever felt numb? i am particular. i feel--really feel-- all at once, all the time; tsunamis of emotion. no one can live like that. so i shove it away. better to feel nothing than to feel everything, i think. but now, i wonder-- have i ruined myself? you cannot pray without emotion. digging deep within myself brought up nothing. empty. numb. no love, no hate. there was nothing there. that should have terrified me. instead, i felt numb. the fact that nothing matters doesn't matter when nothing matters. --7.7.18

but it was just a dream, and as we all know, dreams never come true. --7.2.18

i hope this will be the last post about you. the last post where i let out my emotion before stifling it. my mom asked me what i liked about you. i had to tell her that i couldn't remember; it had been so long since i allowed myself to feel things about you. i still love you, you know.  i'm saying it because i know you'll probably never read this. i got tired of late nights and early mornings spent crying because i still miss you. you're the one my mind goes to when i'm lonely, or sad, or angry, or falling asleep, or waking up. i love and hate the memories we've made. the feeling of your hand in mine. your hands are so rough and masculine and they made mine feel girly, which was nice. the way you'd look at me and i could feel your eyes but i didn't know where to look because what do you do when someone looks at you like you're the stars in heaven? the warmth and steadiness of you when you'd hold me. that first time, i'd never fe...

scanning pictures of a place i've never been but i should have. that was the worst night of my life, and yet here i am. still looking. i'm bitter.  angry. wishing things were different. i hurt. --6.21.18

halfway through my transformation like chains not quite broken i feel held back as if i am not whole never clean almost there-- just out of reach i feel stuck between fully forgiven and lost like i'm on the path  but not quite home and yet old things pass away --6.18.18

dear universe,      are you done yet? is this enough for you? you must not have liked breaking your rules . you've been fighting to keep us apart ever since we met.  are you happy now? dear universe,      will things ever be the same? the answer is no, of course. i thought i'd ask all the same. dear universe,      did you sit back and smile after the last angry "goodbye" was said? you should be proud of your work. you did a marvelous job, breaking me. congratulations.  dear universe,      can you leave me alone for a while? i'm a bit worn out from the events of the past year or two.  just, let me recover.  please. dear universe,      do you take requests? if so, i'd like to go into a coma for, say, three months. it would be nice to wake up and feel better.  dear universe,      if there's one thing this has taught ...

sometimes, i ask God why i don't have cancer. i ask why i get so upset over the small things.  "others are dying," i protest. "my friends are suffering. why am i so worked up about all these little things?" i know now, it's because i don't care about the large things. i wouldn't mind dying.  i wouldn't mind big problems. "big" problems don't bother me. i've written so much about small things, and when the big things have happened, i don't tell anyone.  it doesn't bother me as much. i don't stay up and cry over the "big" things.  strange.  i guess everyone is different. --6.8.18

He found her, most often, wandering the library, her fingertips lightly brushing the spines of the books. "What are you looking for?" he'd ask. She'd smile. "Answers." --6.5.18

in a little over a year, i'll be gone. i'll finally be out of this place. funny how things never work out     the way we plan, or even think. i remember, so long ago,    he said       "I'll be around for at least four more years,    so there's that…" but he'll be here, and i'll be gone. and here we are now.  sometimes i think i can love quietly,    acknowledging my feelings without letting them control me. other times my emotions consume me like    the raging fire they are.  and still other times, he gets on my last nerve    and i'm content with hating him. or perhaps i get on my own last nerve and end up hating myself for the way i feel things. whatever it is, i choke it all down. i don't have the time or energy to love today. i'd rather just leave. leave me alone. dredging up all these feelings. up and down i--we--go. "i think i'm going to be okay."  ...

"Darling, I've been watching other people fall in love for my whole life. Why should this be any different?" She looked away. "Well, maybe it is a little different." --5.28.18

here i go again. ripping myself apart for someone who is so unpredictable. i throw myself into the fire, giving all i have to someone who rarely gives back.     and when they give back,   i only receive pain.  do you care? only sometimes. wild. unpredictable. my skin is burning, i'm up in flames,     and you have no idea. i try my best to help you.       but you push me away.   and i end up just hurting you more. i've tried so very hard to stay angry at you,   but i care too much. i'm at the end of my rope. just pick a side. i'm sick of hurting us. --5.22.18

i wish my dreams were real,    sometimes. i had a dream last night.  i don't remember much, just    a feeling.  a feeling of the past. safety--comfort.   smoothness. something different. old, and new.    no baggage. i wish it could be that way.    but you and i, we're  the same.    so similar.        complicated. our lives have meshed together like   tangled knitting. we couldn't stop it if we tried.  do you ever wonder--   stepping back, looking at the choices you've made--      what would be different? sometimes i do. --5.22.18

isn't it funny how things change and yet  some things stay the same? always. --5.21.18

why are there no stories about girls  with green eyes? we have the brown eyed girls--    dancing, swinging, laughing, like an autumn day: a burst of sunshine, blonde hair. we have the blue eyed girls--     clear, like the ocean, smiling; softly giggling, smelling of salt and sand and carefree days. but what about the girls with green eyes?     the girls with eyes the color of warm sunlight filtering through a field; a snippet of summer, warm and not-quite-belonging to a season.     the girls with eyes that are blue tinted green, like the caribbean waters; white sand and starfish.     the girls with eyes the color of a forest: deep green; beautiful, rich green--the green of adventure and gentle nights. the green eyed girls are beautiful girls. --5.14.18

one thing i have  noticed about the eyes of people who write is that their eyes are clear. deep. like people who have seen many things, and  grew in wisdom because of them. the eyes of a writer are full of knowledge. the eyes of a writer are beautiful. --5.14.18

"grace is a powerful thing." yes, it is. but how do i apply that to my life? how do i control the rage inside of me that desires to be close, so very close to a human being who understands me, who knows me? how do i use that knowledge  to avert the pain that comes when i get lonely, so very desperately lonely? lonely--i am--lonely. i push back tears, trying to  shove the feeling back where it belongs. the void, summon the void. empty of emotions. you cannot feel if you destroy all feeling. shut it out, let me  be. alone. please. let me be alone. --5.11.18

she's been plunged into a world she should have never entered until she was twenty years old. and now she has an aged mind, never able to look at things in  the  same  innocent way. nothing is the same when  you are young, but too young to be old. --5.8.18

     "Strange, isn't it?" Her expression was pensive. "When you want something so badly that it hurts, for so long that it makes you sick. It consumes you, little by little, day by day.       "And then one day, you realize you don't want it any more. Every shred of emotion that tore you apart is now gone. You wake up, and it's just not there. It's a strange experience. You feel free, and numb. But you never want it again." --5.8.18

you make me sick. your voices are so fake, like an audio representation  of a barbie doll. perfect. painted-on. bubbly and happy.          unreal. you are paid to be encouraging. but i wonder. do you not notice     the pain around you? does it stop at the studio door? do you not hear the  distant drumbeats ushering in the end of time? the world is coming to a close     and all i can see is the plastic texture of your words.       be wary.  you cannot ignore the way the earth is shaking                 forever.  --5.6.18

i don't feel alone anymore. my barriers have been torn down, everything that kept me from being open is gone. i don't feel alone. --5.3.18

"Listen to me. I've been where she will be, and I know how that feels. So for every minute you spend with me, spent two with her. If she texts you in the middle of our conversation, stop talking to me and text her back. I know how it feels to be in her place, and no one--no one!--deserves to go through that. You let her know you love her. Don't you let her doubt it. Don't ever let her doubt your love." --4.27.18

i wonder if this is what it felt like.  half of me wishes he could feel what i felt not too long ago. hurt, jealousy. for me, anger. i remember all the things he did wrong and it still makes me cry. but now, i guess--i understand. maybe.  sometimes you just want to be with someone  who's not                                   confusing. i understand. it still stings, though. --4.27.18

strange, how so much can change in a year. i remember this time last year i was crying myself to sleep  for the second day in a row. was the change for the better? probably.     i hope  he's okay. --4.22.18

he was a hurricane and i was a tightrope walker,  dancing on the edge of a knife in the midst of  his storm. and      as the wind and the waves crashed around me, i tried to ignore the danger     until it threatened to drown me; i felt the salt of my tears and the salt of his tears grace my tongue mixed with the water from the storm, and it made me feel desperate.      i saw the danger. i ceased my dancing, i ceased my singing, and i let the storm take me, falling to the depths  of the ocean-- of our storm. --4.18.18

silence. hit with silence. there is  nothing.  have i  finally been     emptied?           done?               numb?           completely? what is this? i look deeper into myself. digging around in a dusty attic. there is so much, yet     so little          of worth. apathetic.  that is how i feel. "does that ever happen to you?" i asked. "when life just loses its spice. there's nothing there anymore." "what's the point?" what do i love? i know there are some who read, and worry. know that i am low but i will be  okay. not right now, but i promise--     i promise. i promise i will be okay. --4.16.18

nagging confusion tugs at my insides-- that thunderstorm, the beautiful sun, this song, a message on the back of a card. what does this all mean? what am i supposed to feel? i'm so scared. terrified.  i don't want to hurt anymore. i don't know-- i don't know! why did it all happen that way? why? what's going on? why can't i make up my mind? and why do i fall when i'm not ready,    not allowed,          not right? --4.15.18

"I'm going to wait for you, you know." my heart sinks. i lose my words. i am numb again,  remembering the time before. --4.11.18

i miss him. it's been so long  since i've seen him. i realized earlier that i don't even r emember  the deep pattern of his voice. yeah, it's not the same. but after so long i don't just forget. i don't just give up on everything. man. i miss him. --4.8.18

do you know how that feels? to miss her so hard.  the tears start and don't stop. it's been almost half a year  since i saw her. so long. i miss her--i miss her! it hurts like hell. it gets depressing, you know. everything crashes down on me and i have no shoulder to cry on. my soul cries out for physical affection. i want her. i want that movie-love; growing up together. laughing so often. oh, how i miss her. --4.7.18

A letter to my best frenemy: Geez, man. Tonight was awesome. You're the bomb. I love how we can mess around and tease each other and flirt back and forth without worrying about it being anything other than fun. You're a trip, and when I make fun of you, you take it in stride and dish it right back. And I think that's awesome. Tonight I told you some interesting developments, and you kept messing with me for the rest of the night, bringing it up in conversation. It was hilarious. "Love you," you said sarcastically when I left. "Love you too," I replied, equally sarcastically. And then when I got home, you texted me. And you got serious with me. You gave me good, solid advice about those developments. Yeah, we might roast each other. Yeah, we tease. But you genuinely care about me in a purely friendship way. Which for me is a huge blessing. You said I was one of your best friends, and that meant the world to me. You're such a sweet idiot. You never...

we were  empty. or,  i was empty. i don't know what i was to him. but i know what i felt, and i know i felt nothing. i tried to build a dam to hold back  my emotions and i succeeded. i am proud. but-- i  diverted a small stream of expression: different, but  there nonetheless. now the dam  must be completed. block up the holes. i must transform from the wolf king to the dragon. stone, steel, cuendillar. harder. stronger. --4.3.18

you will find me  under the weeping cherry tree i will be there barefoot alone free --4.3.18

I looked down into her little pink face. Such a fragile thing. My fragile thing. It's hard to tell what she looks like. She's so new, barely a few hours old. What will she look like when she's older? I can tell she has her father's nose--thank goodness. But where did she get those blue eyes? Mine are green, and her father's are brown. Genetics is such a mystery. My mind wanders as I listen to her gentle breathing. What kind of girl will she be? Will she be like me, living with a reckless abandon that brings scraped knees and scratched up ankles? Will she love to stay inside and wear my clothes all too soon? Will she be the heart breaker, or the heartbroken? Will she stay up too late or fall asleep early? Will she eat dessert or dinner first? Will she make the rules, or break them?  What will she be like? Of course, it's too early to tell. Her hair is deep red, the beautiful color I'd always wanted mine to be. What a small miracle. My small miracle. ...

i felt an arm around my shoulder, gently, and i looked up into her beautiful face.     she asked how i'd been.   i heard concern in her voice when i simply said "alright." she had to go, and so did i, but as we parted, it hit me. i don't hate her anymore. perhaps it is because i am numb. perhaps it is because he is not mine. perhaps it is because i love too much. it doesn't matter--      my hate is gone.  --4.3.18

apathy. he calls me beautiful and i call him a liar. nothing matters anymore. i'm done.  over it. over this. ignoring my feelings is what i must do.  surround myself with people who will never love me.  i thought i was safe--i was wrong. i will never be safe. stay away from me. stay away. --4.2.18

how can i have the gall to wallow in my feelings at the slightest inconvenience-- destructive, self destructive. i'm ready to hurt something. i'm ready to hurt myself. how can i do this when i am surrounded by the fatherless, the depressed, suicidal,  anxiety-ridden,  addicted,  struggling, falling? gone, now. flash floods of emotion. is this what it's like to be bipolar? i wonder. --3.28.18

"I realized it, today. I always accept that I'm a loser, so that I won't be let down. But by doing that, I automatically lose. Without confidence in myself, I always lose." --3.25.18

"Strange. For someone who forgets everything about himself, you sure do remember an awful lot about me." --3.25.18

and i suppose  this will be my life, now. pushing people away  to keep them safe. ruining friendships because i'm scared of the future possibilities. closing up,  retreating, bottling my emotions so that i cannot be harmed. although-- i am more terrified  of harming another than being harmed. i cannot let anyone in and i cannot allow myself to latch onto anyone. how much different would life be if one facet changed? --3.20.18

summer night in my closet tears streaming down my face he didn't hear i didn't let him i couldn't  he wasn't ready i wonder if i should put all this to rest finally Father, let me know if he can bear it --3.19.18

i can't believe it. that you would be so self-absorbed to think that he wanted you. catching feelings in a couple short weeks. no. look at you. to jump to conclusions like that? what an idiot. friends do that, not lovers.  friends care. friends stay for you. how could you believe that he wanted you? never. you are sheltered. you are alone. you will stay that way, until-- until never. you will stay that way. so shut up and leave me alone.  --3.19.18

tell me why you loved them.  tell me all about her eyes. the one with eyes like burnished bronze, flecked with gold, who made you feel warm inside. tell me about the one with eyes like the deep blue sea--the tropics, green and gorgeous. or the one with eyes of forest-green, the eyes you could lose yourself in. tell me about her laugh, each one of them; different, but lovely in their own ways. tell me about how her hair felt when you ran your fingers through it, or how you always loved the way her long waves bounced when she walked. tell me about how her hair smelled like coconuts, but hers reminded you of apples, while the other's always smelled like fresh-baked cookies. tell me about how they loved you--fierce, soft, young and beautiful. tell me about how her nose would aways touch your skin when you hugged, but you loved the way that another's would breathe you deep before you pulled away. tell me about the late nights you had with each of them. tell me about how she'd ...

   He absentmindedly runs his hand over the mudstained, no longer white truck.  "It's old, but classic."    She smiles. "I like it." "It needs a little work."     "All the best things do." --3.16.18

"I love you." "Please, don't. Don't do that to yourself. It's a mistake you'll wish you never made." --3.15.18

i hate my big forehead. i hate my bumpy, too-big nose. i hate my too-wide mouth and smile. i hate my round face. i hate my stubborn, ugly curls. i hate my big shoulders. i hate my long, skinny arms. i hate my small nails. i hate my scarred up back. i hate my small chest. i hate my belly. i hate my misplaced, nonexistent hips. i hate my ugly, scarred, bruised legs. i hate my big feet. it's late at night and i hate myself again --3.12.18

"Strange. People are so different. I've noticed, I feel things differently than others. I've always known it, but I just figured out how to put it to words. I feel things like… like a firework. Loud and angry, quick and dangerous; intense, but short. It's like it all builds up inside of me, like a burning fuse, till I explode in rage and sadness. I lash out; I cry without ceasing. And then it's over in a flash and a bang. I noticed it in comparison to you, actually. You're more like a thunderstorm. Long lasting and sad, drawn out and brooding, depressed and steady. It's strange. Neither is better and neither is worse, of course. It's just fascinating, these things that make people different." --3.12.18

i knew this would happen.  i am finally the wolf king,  hurting who i love to keep them safe.  from myself.  from the future.  it was one of the hardest things i’ve ever done.  i tore my heart apart, doing that.  i hope i never have to do it again.  this is not how i wanted things to go.  i’m so achingly sorry.  --3.7.18

we carefully  portray ourselves to different people,  picking and choosing what parts of us to show. time to spin the wheel of personalities. who should we be with them? we cannot let him know this, but it will be okay if she knows. why do we do this? why is openness selective? why do we pour out our hearts to strangers and wish those around us would  know us like they do? why do we act differently around some people than around others? why are we not consistent? of course. it is simple. perhaps it is because we are scared. terrified that openness with him will break us, but openness with her will cause us to heal. is it true? family leaves. friends leave. lovers leave. everyone leaves. maybe-- how curious. maybe we are open to strangers because they are so open. accepting, not judging. they are blank slates. maybe we are open to strangers because it is as if  they have already left us like everyone does. --3.6.18

her eyes dart back and forth, still,  muscle memory kicking in. her fingers, too,  remember where to click. it's automatic. an unthinking movement. old habits die hard. she just wishes  it would fade  quickly. --3.5.18

she spins on her toes,  dancing in the starlight. no one sees her and that is how she likes it best. she is alone, and for once it's okay. orion watches.  the rest of the night sky gazes on, starry spectators to her dance in solitude. she smiles and flings her arms open wide, dancing in the starlight. --2.21.18

2:45am. I can’t sleep. Adrenaline rushes through my veins and I feel my heartbeat like a throbbing in my chest. My whole body feels it. I can only imagine how you feel. There is so much I understand. I’m restless. I’m not tired. Stress still lingers. I remember how I felt when I was in a similar place, and I cry again. Father, bring them close. Please. I’m so scared that rock bottom will creep up and I will be too late. I’m desperate. Don’t let them go. —2.18.18