Forward

I can see it now.
He’s going to have a son named Jack and a daughter named Lily - just like he planned.
Him and her will enjoy a life of mediocrity.
They have pseudo-important jobs.
They’ll live in a culdesac in Salinas, CA, no more than five minutes from the rest of his family.
His kids will go to the same schools as his brother and cousins and he did.
There house will be messy just like he is.
They’re alright looking kids will be smart ass liberally minded little brainiacs just like he is.
They’ll be raised Catholic, right along with the clan.
They’ll go on average family vacations.
They’ll have movie night every week.
He will slowly find himself turning into his father.
His uncle will still drive him crazy at every family dinner.

And I know this is a life that I did not want, a life I made a conscious choice to escape from in fact - so why is it that I can’t erase this picture I have of his future?
And why is it that it still pains me knowing that he’s going to be living it with her?

I've been home for almost two months.

Things with the family are good. I've actually gotten to spend time with my brothers who are growing up to be more and more awesome everyday. I've got not one but two good jobs that I'm very excited about. My relationship is in a good place right now. You'd think I'd be happy. And yet...


I just lost the last of my remaining best friends suddenly and without explanation. In a fit of loneliness and frustration at my prolonged pent up sobriety I got shit faced and made an absolute ass of myself in front of a virtual stranger. Every time I try to reach out, I only end up further rejected, sometimes at my own hand. :/ 


I'd like to go back to Boston now please.

This.

This isn't something I ever thought I would ever have to ever worry about. No one plans to be cheated on. No one thinks they'll fall for that kind of person. Everyone thinks they would leave the second it happened.

Unfortunately the world is gray.

I hate this. I hate that you did this. I know that it could've been worse, but could it? Could it really? I can't trust you. Not at all. Who knows what else you've lied about? Who knows if you're actually even owning up now? Was anything you ever said even true?

Because you didn't say sorry. Not once in our whole conversation. And you didn't seem remorseful. And somehow I got through that conversation, got through today, and I felt okay, even about us. But the more I think about it the more I start to wonder how much of this is me being a stupid girl who's fallen for a boy that doesn't deserve her.

And I just hate that the clock is ticking. I hate that I feel like I have to make the most out of our last few days. There is no hope of things happening naturally. I have to force it if I want to make this work. And somehow I can't feel like that's adding to the lies. I can't help but feel cheated; after all the work I did to get you, to keep you, I loose you only to circumstance.

And is it wrong that I'm almost not hurt? Yeah, I saw it coming I guess, but more. Like I expected it. Like I believed that I wasn't enough. No matter how hard I try I suddenly doubt whether it's just lies, or whether I ever actually make you happy.

It's not the worst, no. Cause mostly what I got out of this is that I'm fucking awesome and you're a goddamn twat. Too busy winning at life to shed a tear over someone who clearly didn't even deserve that.

Because I get you. And I know that sounds dumb to say, but I do. All your lies, all your bullshit. All your front that you put up so incredibly convincingly. But I see the cracks in the foundation. I see you for who, for what you are. Read you like a book even. I think that's part of why you lasted this long. You're a puzzle I wanted to solve; infuriated by how close and how far the answer always felt. And last night I saw it in your eyes. Some part of it got through to you. Finally, you weren't bullshit and innocent eyes and cocky humor - for just a moment, you were real.

I can't help be impressed at my composure. Livid, pulsating with anger, I still don't think even a word was out of place. Not an action would I change.

Mostly I just hate that you betrayed me after how good I've been too you.

Mostly I just hate the fact that I can't shake the feeling that as strong as I feel now, I might be in for another summer of crying myself to sleep alone each night over a boy who doesn't even care.

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.