Doubt

You shouldn't be with someone you're unsure of, should you?

Somehow that seems counter-intuitive to me

To be with someone you don't respect

Someone you don't totally trust

Someone you have to defend and take care of all the time

Someone who doesn't much take care of you in return

But then I've never been much good with these things

It's weird, because the feelings are there

Just like last time

When he's with me I feel safe and happy; I know he has feelings for me

And there's even things that have never been there before, like passion, chemistry, attraction
Things I like

But the other things,

the things that brought the real, lasting happiness

...not so much

I'm going through the motions

I want to be with him

But I can't shake that uneasy feeling that something isn't quite right

And my gut tells me no time will be like last time

No one will ever be Nathan. That was different.

Special.

So maybe this is normal

Or maybe I am what I seem, a dumb lovesick girl dating a douchebag

But I want to be with him

Maybe because I so badly want him to want me

Or maybe it's because I see so much in him that he doesn't yet see in himself and I know that I can help him, that I'm good for him

Or maybe it's just because I can't stand the thought of being alone

Because I want so so badly to be in a relationship

I'm scared

I don't think I'm at a place where the one I'm with should be "the one" - it's too soon

But if I really let someone in again, if I really love again, like I did Nathan...

...I can't bare the thought of a loss like that. Not again.

So maybe this is some sort of coping strategy

Date a loser so you have reasons not to like him when it's over

But from years of experience I can tell you that you still get hurt all the same

Or maybe this is me punishing myself

Maybe I still don't believe that I deserve to be happy after the way things with Nathan ended

Or maybe I'm just crazy and tired

I want him to be perfect.

But he isn't.

And he never will be.

So I try to accept him for who he is,

because I care about him

But all that seems to get me is feeling neglected.

The "L" Word

It's a fine distinction. The difference between loving someone and being in love. Somewhere in the drunken haze between asleep and awake I saw it; felt it. I love you. And I don't mean that to be some big bad scary thing. It's just how it is. You are more than a friend to me, yes. But it's more that we have reached a point where I don't just like you, or care about you - I love you. I would be miserable if something happened to you. I want to keep you safe and happy. Just as I would any close friend.

And I know I can't tell you. You'd be terrified. You wouldn't understand. But I want to. In moments of comfort. When you kiss me awake. I want to just smile and tell you. Simple. Uncomplicated. Even though with you the words would drain the moment of their meaning.

And it's not that I couldn't fall in love with you. In fact, I fear sometimes that I might be ever so slightly. But there isn't time for that. It would benefit no party involved. We just can't go there. I can't go there. I wish we could. I know it'd be good for you. I wish I could be the girl to change your mind. But there isn't time. There isn't hope. Not with you anyway. Not now.

Mostly I just hope I can keep it to myself. The way things slip out sometimes with you.

You are so different.

We are so different.

I am so different.

A look back...

So, I'm sitting here reading my old blogs from senior year. How very much I have changed since then. The magnitude of daily drama seems so distant and trivial now. Some of the things that were once such a big deal I now don't even recall.

Those few months before college my writing makes a sharp difference - I lost my sense of wonder. Everything use to be so grandiose and full of promise, then, suddenly, it was like my writing lost it's innocence. Makes me sad. I had something great there. I think I'd like to try and bring a little innocent wonder back into my life.

So much else has changed too. So much is better. It's like all that shit I went through doesn't even matter because I survived it. I'm in college. I live on my own in a beautiful apartment where there is no yelling and no stress. My relationship with my mom is so incredibly different. In fact, she's probably one of my best friends. I call her for advice, opinion, and sometimes just to talk. I'm still not so lucky in love. I still go through those cycles of restlessness, though I now know it to be depression which I cope with. There's still doubt, there's still scars. But good God, it's so much better. Any teenager out there struggling right now, it's cliche, but it's true what they say, everything's a million times bigger right now. Life begins after high school. And it's wonderful.

I'm so incredibly grateful for this blog. The good and bad writings, the fact that I kept it up all these years. How wonderful it is to be able to look back on your life and remember exactly how you felt in that moment.

And mostly, not to brag or anything, but I am one goddamn fabulous writer. ;)

xo

A Song of Two Humans

Maybe it's that it's 5 a.m. or maybe I'm just a crazy film major, but I had this image just now. That scene, from "Sunrise." The one where he finally catches up with his wife. She stares up at him in trembling horror. So innocent. He's tall figure next to her petite frame instinctually foreboding. He tries his best to appear small. He does not mean to frighten, or overwhelm. Only to express himself. To ask for a chance.

Don't be afraid of me. The line from the film flashes. And I see it in my mind like I see your face.

Please don't run. Please don't be afraid because I like you and I can't keep it to myself anymore. I get that natural instinct might be telling you to run from my seemingly foreboding feelings. I can see the terror in your eyes, and in the way you safeguard your heart. But please, give me a chance. Please don't run from me because I like you. Please don't turn cold because I momentarily let it show that I care. I don't know how to be any less, but I also do not expect you to know how to be anymore.

Who I am is an affectionate person. I like terms of endearment and kissing your cheek. I want you to know that you're appreciated. It's not some expectation. This isn't an entrapment. There is no catch. I promise to never tell you one thing and mean another. You don't even have to reciprocate. But when I have somebody in my life like I've got you right now, I don't know how to turn off that care giver instinct. I'm going to bake you cupcakes and kiss you sweetly and ask you how you're day is going with genuine concern. It's who I am. Please don't run from it. All I'm asking for is a chance. I know you want it. I can see it in your eyes.

Let yourself feel. Let yourself be loved. Don't run from it. Don't run from me. I promise I won't hurt you. And should you hurt me, I promise I won't break.

Give me a chance. Give us a chance.

Don't be afraid of me.

my biological clock is ticking (and other trivial concerns)

It's crazy to think how very much I feel like a failure at just 19. It's just, I thought I'd have done so much more by now. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm happy with my life. I'm proud of the person I am and the growth I've made. But sometimes I can't help but look around at peers (fictitious or otherwise) and feel a little lost. So many of them have this great incredible lives and fabulous resumes and are right on track for their dream job. I don't know anyone important. I've never interned anywhere. Hell I can't even use the dishwasher bro.

And then there's that other thing. How incredibly much I want children. It's probably a little weird at this age even (though in my conversations with my friend Nate who already has both of his kids named and their futures planned I can at least take solace in knowing I'm not alone). I mean, I'm 19. My mother was married at my age. I, on the other hand, have only ever been in one real relationship. (Hopefully two here soon..fingers crossed.) I've never been out of the country. I've got a little under four more years of school before I can be living that independent adult single life I crave as a part in my story. And yet, by 30 I'd like to be married with kids. ...Do you see what that means? That means I have less then a decade to live out my complete single life and fulfill all desires of independence for a life time, date everyone I'm ever going to date, find my soul mate, know him long enough and well enough to marry (and I imagine I could get tricked by a frog or two along the way which could mean as much as years of my life wasted), AND successfully manage to have my dream wedding and enjoy some years of marital bliss to ourselves before popping out a few babies. Not to mention all the decisions that come along the way and things like buying a home, earning financial stability, starting a college fund, etc. Do you have any idea what an IMMENSE amount of pressure that is? For those with you that have been with me a while you realize my first kiss was not even two years ago. In many ways I have grown up way too quickly and in many ways I still have so much more growing up to do. Suddenly it's like all the time is this ticking clock reminding me of the count down. I keep dreaming of a golden-haired little girl (don't even get me started on how my current relationship makes this a genetic impossibility #moreissues).

I want it. I want it so bad. This kids. The husband. The white picket fence and family Volvo. But it's so rare in the first place and I already feel so terribly far behind. What if I never get a family? What if that voice in my head telling me I'm unloved and no one will ever want me is right? What if I never get my fairytale ending? Now that it's my everything, the one thing I want most in life. What if it isn't out there for me?

I try so hard. I do. I love so much. I have so much love to give. I want so badly to be loved.

Please don't make me spend my life alone.

sea salt

i remember my first trip to the ocean

standing on my father's feet as he walked me into the water

feeling the cold rush over my bare feet

the fear and excitement of such vast mystery

the way the water would rock you

with the tide all things passed

out with the old and in with the new

an endless expanse of life washing over your senses

it was my safety

my religion

my place of peace

i remember sunny summer afternoons

rolling in the soft endless grass

but then we moved to a place where the grass wasn't as soft

still i'd roll carelessly through the backyard

a million little cuts marking up my legs as i went

stopping only to marvel at the lines that covered my shins and my calves

but in the moment, i couldn't feel it

so, i ignored what was

i got up, moved on

this new house was near a beach

one afternoon, my mother took us

a strange new land of wonder and exploration so vast and overwhelming

i soon forgot my backyard

the familiar momentarily out-shined by the new

and i raced head first into the world in front of me

(something i often do in life)

i found my self startled

the water was cold, yes, but more

suddenly i felt a million red-hot needles searing in my legs

the salt filled my wounds

and suddenly, i felt it, i felt it all

but it was too late

my safe haven shattered by a painful memory of momentary happiness

the water had touched my skin and now there was nothing to do but wait til the pain subsided

all things heal with distance, with time

since you, my life seems an endless staring out at a vast ocean

i ran into it once

almost instantly regretting my decision

the pain of a million red-hot needles covering my body

like infinite pinpricks on my heart

but it was too late

what once was peace now was pain

so i let you go

i stepped away from the water and i waited

through every torturous moment i waited

time passed

the tides turned

i healed

i forgot, if only for a moment

ever since, i stand on the shore

staring out at the vast and glorious ocean

marveling at the tranquility of endless horizon

until the moment rises where i almost feel free

i forget my wounds and charge head-first into the water

but the second my foot descends into the cold, murkiness i am reminded

a million little cuts that will never heal

a million pinpricks for an eternity on my heart

i see the summer

i see your face

if only i'd known

if only i'd been more careful

i retreat

gasping to fight the pain of freshly salted old wounds

shutting my eyes tight

waiting to forget again

to stare blissfully at the world from a safe distance

waiting for the agony to subside

i wonder if i'll ever again be able to enjoy the ocean

caged

You told me I had nothing to apologize for, but I can't...

You don't understand how much it kills me to know how much I hurt you.

It's not the memories, or the missing you; it's the guilt that will never let me move on.

I could beg at your feet, tell you I'm sorry a million times over.

But I can't undo it.

I can't fix you.

I hate what I've done.

I hate that I hurt you.

I don't deserve to be happy.

I will never be free.

Hello Again

Whelp I did it. I survived a semester without you, lovely blog of mine, but I missed you quite terribly.

I've been putting off posting again for fear of mediocrity. I mean that last post was a full conclusion. I feel like at this point I'm carrying on a story that may already have been told, wrapped up, loose ends tied. I'd hate for my blog to become Smallville, or 7th Heaven, or Land Before Time, or any other great story that was ruined because they had to milk it dry - they just couldn't let go and in the process, they ruined something special.

But maybe there's somewhere in the middle. I like my privacy. I like keeping my facebook friends small and my personal life private. But this blog still means so much. I still find myself reflective sometimes, not wanting to over-share with my tumblr anons by posting deep poetry or personal reflection. So maybe I'll leave that here. Make this more of my poetry and maybe a blog every once and a while.

I talked in my last post about starting this blog at a place of confusion, self-searching and transition, and whelp, I find myself at yet another crossroads in my life. I have learned and grown so incredibly much last year. I am so strong and so independent and so incredibly proud of myself. And I did it without anyone's support, or encouragement, or rushing into anyone's arms. And I didn't do it for anyone's approval; I did it for me. But this year I have found that the more I learn, the more I realize how much I have to learn. And maybe this blog can be the place of self-reflection that it so powerfully once was yet again. Maybe it can be a place where it's okay to over-share just a bit. To whine about loose ends and life drama and lost friends and gained enemies and boys, and crazy shit I get myself into.

So I guess what I'm saying now is that I'm ready to carry this blog with me into the next chapter of my life. Like myself, much will stay the same; but I'm sure much will be different too. I can't promise you the PG-13 rom-com that was my stories, because that's not my life anymore. But if you want to take this journey with me, see where it leads.... maybe I'm willing to try opening up again.

Oh why hello

Hey there blogosphere. I know I have a few loyal followers out there and for them I felt like I should write. I don't know that you'll be hearing for me for sometime after this, and I didn't want you to feel abandoned. (Considerate, aren't I? :P)

You see not only is it that it seems brilliant writing comes to us most easily in times of pain, which I have not been in a while and do not foresee in my future for some time, but also that there's something in me that doesn't feel the need to write anymore, almost doesn't want to.

I felt lost and scared in a world I didn't understand those seven years ago that I started this blog. 13 is a tough age. I felt alone in the world, and I really just wanted somebody, anybody, to listen. So I wrote. I wrote and I wrote and I typed out words intricately scrutinizing over the details every single time I felt sad or alone or maybe just contemplative. I poured my heart and soul into this blog, not with the goal of anyone I new ever seeing it, but just because knowing it was out there somewhere that someone just might find, that someone just might see, that someone might just understand me for even a millisecond - it made me feel not so alone.

And then there came the time of others knowing, of people I knew finding my words, commenting on them. And though I loved the thought of them listening, though I loved the kind complimentary words and the fact that someone besides me appreciated my writings as much as did; but it also made me feel quite a bit more naked than I was ready for. I have never been a strong secure person capable of independently standing on her own two feet, unafraid of what may come. Instead I've spent a life guided by others opinions, constantly frightened of someone watching. Living by another's opinions and moral code, constantly afraid of judgement or of letting those people who's words I lived by down in someway. This was a struggle for me in my writing. What if I wrote something wrong? They would see it. I would let them down. They might realize that maybe I'm not as brilliant as they think I am. How will I ever live up to the expectation I felt in their complimentary words? This began shape my writing. A constant battle with myself; scared to be honest, but trying to find courage. That was what my blog always was; I couldn't let people take that from me. I thank those people for reading. I thank them for their words. I thank them for helping me find the strength to be honest.

And then there was the last torturous epoch of months. Bless the hearts of those of you who stuck around because even I look back and feel like it was torturous. Months and months where I wasn't talking to Nathan, I wanted so very badly to talk to Nathan, but rather than grow a pair, scared of vulnerability and of rejection, I poured my heart into my blog. Everything I so desperately wanted to say to him I put here. Hoping oh so desperately he might find it, thinking him riddled with curiosity as I so desperately was of his life. (Of course I later learned he didn't dare look because he was terrified of what horrible things I was probably saying about him. Still hasn't probably. Oh contraire.)

I can't say I'll never be back, but it's definitely time for a little break. You see, I reached that point I was always dreaming of. Standing completely on my own two feet, the hell with the neigh sayers. My last semester basically took everything that could possibly go wrong to a person, shook it up and a bottle, and blew a lovely tornado of chaos my way. I'm pretty sure I made every wrong decision I possibly could've along the way. I also did so far to publicly which cost me gravely and taught me how easily it is to destroy a lifetimes worth of reputation. (And I'm so incredible grateful for that glorious mess. I don't think I have grown nearly as much in all my years as life demanded of me within just this last.) But now? Now I'm here, in this moment, living actively and responsibly.

We live in this world where it's so easy to become a slave to technology. Combine that with teenage insecurity and you've got this deadly need to always look cool and hip and good. To give and give and give of yourself just trying to keep up appearances. Just as much as people don't need to know my bad, they don't need to know my good either.

My life is mine. No one else's. It's not about trying be "in" with facebook "friends" I barely know. It's not about always having to be cool or perfect. It's not about giving so much of yourself to the world all the time. It's not about pouring your heart out online where anyone can see. Live it for you. Let the special people in and screw the rest of them. And if people want to know something about you, let them ask. Don't make it so easy for people to get so much of you. Make them work for it. Because you deserve it. You are a truly unique, wonderful, special human being. You deserve the moon. And more than that, you certainly deserve people in your life who have to work to be in it. Your friendship, your heart, your story - it's a prize. Don't give it away. Save it for those who will treat it as such and who will treat you as you deserve to be treated. All of us are worthy of and deserving of that. Remember it.

So as for now, I'm back at school and loving it. I've got purple hair. I've got a great job and a really amazing guy and wonderful friends and things are good. That boy I was so heartbroken about? Out of my life at his choice, and I'm feeling all the better for it. I'm sober. I'm happy. Everyday is a new challenge and for once that doesn't scare me, it makes me hungry to meet it. It's life and it's crazy and mixed up and a beautiful mess and I love it. I wouldn't change a thing, past or present.

And as for you my lovelies, thank you. Thank you for reading. Thank you for listening. Thank you for withholding judgement. Thank you for encouraging comments. Thank you for putting up with the full and total insanity that is Katherine Elizabeth Stevens and sticking around anyway. Whether it continues or not, thank you for taking this journey with me. Few are blessed with something as precious as the blog experience has been for me and I'm so grateful for it. I hope you are fortunate enough to find such kindness and wonder in your own future travels.

And don't forget, never be afraid to be who you are; settle for nothing less than you deserve - no matter what.

xo

Dependency

It makes me a little sad, this...

That I don't know how to function without some pill.

Just of a shell of a person anymore. I can't even "be" without some chemical telling me how.

Keeping me awake, keeping me focused, keeping me happy, keeping me "sane".

That I don't know how to have sex without feeling miserable after.

It had meaning once, but fuck it now. Pointless really. Even when they care I just feel used and hurt. Like love almost makes it worse. I'd rather you not know my name, or be sweet, or let me give a fuck about you. It's easier to focus on the physical act that way. Far less likely to ensue messy feelings.

That I can't eat anymore. Because between the pills and the upset I can't keep anything down. Funny how I'm starving to death and all I hear is "you look good" "keep it up" "you could loose five more pounds". Caring. Considerate. Good to know I have people looking out for my well-being.

That I find myself with nothing but fair-weather friends.

That I find myself building a life, building memories, building relationships only to have them all torn down and have to start all over again.

That the thing I've always been best at is self destruction.

So watch me burn baby. It's going to be a glorious sight.