sincerely, me.

I can feel you sometimes, if I try hard enough. When I breathe in the sweet smell of freshly baked chocolate cake, and my mouth salivates and my insides stir with the pure decadence of the scent. When my shoes and socks get wet; the squelching, uncomfortable feeling between my toes. When I eat too much and get a tummy ache and need someone to rub it like a Buddha belly to make the cramps go away. The feeling of winning a board game or a game of cards and the sheer terror I wish to wreak upon the losers, just to rub it in that little bit more. Having grubby hands and sniffing them after they’ve been washed. All these little things.

I can feel you, almost, but you’re too far away. You’re far too far away. You’re in a time before me, a mere memory along my timeline. You used to smile, and your rosy red cheeks would swell, revealing two perfect sized dimples. Those dimples are slowly being filled in. You used to swing your legs on the swings in shorts, now you’re too self conscious to even wear anything that remotely reveals your legs. Your wild hair bounced around and sat almost violently across your shoulders, now it’s half dead from constantly perfecting it. You’ve been adulterated, your spirit shattered and your heart broken a million times over. You died some time ago.

You know what, your memory is never forgotten. I still think about you from time to time, and remember the smile you always had on your face no matter how rough times got for you. You were rough as guts, never letting anyone push you around, never letting anyone manipulate or patronize you. Now, now things are so different. So, so different. You’d never believe what I have become – in fact, you wouldn’t recognize me. I’ve become everything you swore you’d never be. I’ve become so miserable, so detached from reality, so exhausted by life. So worn down by everything that washes over me, like a plague almost; a plague, that’s how I see life, a plague we’ve all caught and we all have to deal with. You would have never wanted me to see life that way. Life was once a beautiful thing and growing up was something you always wanted to do, but you did it too quickly, and now you’re gone. Life is tricky, but you always had a way with dealing with it, and now, your benevolence is lost along with your innocence and charm.

I still feel you sometimes, inside me. You were one version of me. But unfortunately, I’m not the same person.

the “good” life.

Sometimes I really wonder about life. People sit there and say “everybody dies but not everybody lives”, but what does it mean to actually “live” ? Who set the standards for life ? What do we need, do we need money, do we need stability, do we need security, do we need certain things that are going to add to our lives and therefore make our lives “complete” ?

I think that sometimes, people need to step back and realize. Sure, have goals, have ideas, have passions. But don’t focus on living life properly. Fuck, if you want to do nothing with your life, then do nothing. Don’t let anyone dictate to you. Because I don’t believe that there’s a proper way to live, there’s no secret to living, there’s nothing like that – and people that spend their lives trying to “live right” are living a lie, not a life. Sometimes, you just need to accept the fact that you’re going to feel like shit and you’re going to feel like life is not important. Sometimes, you’re going to feel on top of the world, as if you can achieve whatever you set your mind to. Sometimes, you just get over things. Sometimes things change. Sometimes things break. Sometimes things begin, and sometimes they end. Sometimes shit happens.

There’s no real rhythm or rhyme to living. There’s no real big secret, and nobody is going to randomly walk out of the hedges in your front yard and into your kitchen and make you a cup of tea and tell you the secrets to a successful life with a big smile on their face. There’s no such thing. A successful life would be one that never ended, and that’s impossible, so you know what ? Get the fuck over it. Sometimes people are born, and sometimes they die. And they shouldn’t let anyone tell them how to live in the time between.

good things coming.

I haven’t posted for a while because to be honest I haven’t wanted to. I don’t like completely indulging myself in my writing because I know I’ll get lost in my own sea of thoughts and I’ll end up drowning, being pulled into a vortex sucking me further and further into the blackness. Lately I’ve been feeling really on my own, unable to find a rhythm or a rhyme with my words; I’ve been raw, exposed, like my skin has been ripped off of my body and my innards are in plain view for everyone to see that this is me in all my imperfect glory. I think now I’m feeling a little more grounded and a little more peaceful, so here it goes.

The saying “good things come to those who wait” has always bothered me. I understand the connotation of it – that you can’t rush into things, that good things take time, that a flower won’t bloom overnight. But why must we always be waiting ? Our lives are spent mostly on anticipation and waiting. We know that nothing is set in stone and anything could happen day to day, yet we still sit and wait. We wait for change. We wait for something different, something new, something that we’re just waiting for. We sit and wait for something we don’t even know is coming. It’s like sitting by the door, every single day, waiting for a package to arrive that we are unaware will never come; sitting, waiting, growing older as the clock ticks, wasting away, until soon our anticipation turns to disappointment and our waiting turns to rotting.

Why must we wait for these alleged “good things” that we aren’t even sure are coming our way ? We don’t even know when we’re going to die. We could live a long prosperous life or we could get hit by a fucking bus tomorrow, nobody knows and nobody will ever know unless they were the master of the universe. Why should we spend what precious, little time we have waiting around for something that might never arrive. So many people are just sitting there with full faith, expecting to catch a break. I admit I admire their hope and willpower but waiting is not going to make a difference. I am so sick of waiting for a break I’m not even sure I’ll get.

I’m just sick of seeing so many undeserving people sit back and get everything they want in the palms of their hands, and the beautiful souls are the ones that suffer. I’m sure there’s a bigger picture here, like the ones that suffer are the ones that get rewarded the most in the end or some shit like that but to be honest I was never one for the bigger picture. I know I’m fortunate and I know I have a lot to be thankful for but right now, my break seems like it’s never going to come – and I’m through waiting for it.

the one.

I wish you could see how beautiful you are.
You are nothing less to me than everything
you make up everything in the world -
My World.
I don’t care if my knees are grazed or if my nose is runny or if my make up is blotchy or if my arms are bruised or if my eyes are teary or if my tongue is in knots because when you’re around all the bad things disappear.
I wish I WISH you saw what you look like to me
because you are so
SO
perfect
in my eyes
that nothing
AT ALL
compares to you;
nothing comes close.
I know you aren’t perfect
because you don’t eat cheese and you break a lot of bones and your stubble can be prickly and rough
and your bum is too small for your jeans
and sometimes your hair is too short for me to run my fingers through
but I wouldn’t trade you for all the cheese or jeans in the world
because I will never
Never
Ever
ever ever find another you.
You are so much more to me than the entire universe
this stupid planet doesn’t even come close to you in my eyes
and I don’t care how cheesy this is
because
I
adore
you
and I feel like if I don’t tell you
my heart will explode
and it will crack my ribs
and I’ll die
all because of you
- my love.

I rest easy knowing that you’re thinking of me even while you sleep
I know you are. Because I know you too well.

I think that’s enough for me. And
all that’s left is to tell you that:
I
love
you
more than any red m&m loved a green m&m
or than a seahorse loved its babies
or than a mountain loved the clouds
or than an envelope loved mailboxes
or than a pelican loved being ugly
or than a potato loved the dirt
I love you SO MUCH
that when I see you
I’m going to hold you tight and lick your nose
because it makes you so angry and your brow wrinkles and your nose screws up and it makes me laugh.
How I love you so.
So
so
so
MUCH
that you make me sing Celine Dion.
That’s how much I love you.
These are the only words I can put to you
because
I just DON’T CARE about what other people have said about love
I don’t care for quotes or poetry
- these are my words, my heart.
And you
are
my
everything
and I love you…
more than anything.
The end.

split open.

If anyone knows me well enough, they’ll know to come here looking for clues. It’s almost like an open door into my insanity and right now I’m kicking the motherfucker down.

I’m done. I’m so done. I’ve over trying to pretend that life is peachy keen and that I’m travelling alright. Well it’s not, and I’m not. I suppose that makes me a liar but fuck, I can’t walk around with a scowl on my face for the rest of my life. I feel trapped. I feel like there is nowhere I can turn to without a sharp edge digging into my ribs and piercing my lungs, no I can’t breathe anymore. I’m seeing red. I’m seeing blood…I’m seeing fucking red red red.

For fuck’s sakes. Stop pushing me. I’m clinging with my last human strengths on to the edge and you’re picking off my fingers one by one. You don’t know me, at all. None of you know me. It’s a front and that’s all you know, is the girl with the mask, you don’t know me one bit. You don’t know what I’m battling, what I’m capable of, and what I can’t do, I just can’t do it. I’m not a conventional person. We all know that. How about you realize that you’re going about it the wrong way ? All of you. I want to cut myself off from the world, I want to cut the cord so you can all stop watching my life like it’s a fucking show and adding your input because I don’t care. Keep your opinions and your views because I don’t want them. I never wanted them. What you wanted for me wasn’t me, it was never me, and if you want to talk about failures, look at your own before you point the finger. Don’t tell me I’m messed up or a waste or useless or any of the things I already know deep inside me but I keep those things hidden because I can’t do this. Life. I can’t do it. You’re making me sick. The lot of you are making me sick inside. Stop having faith in me, please. It’s making me so angry that I can’t be what everyone wants me to be and all I can be is myself and it’s never good enough, never ever good enough, nothing ever is. I can’t please fucking anyone. I can’t make anyone happy and you all sit there with your fake smiles and fake words and fake encouragement when all you want is to see me “get off my ass”. I’ve been off my ass for five years trying to make myself, myself again but of course nobody sees that. My life is not your life, it’s mine all mine so what you say and what you do have nothing to do with anything. I don’t care about you, your morals, your values or how you were raised but guess what ? You are a fucking idiot for trying to push it all down my throat. I’ll keep gagging it up and spitting it out back in your face until you get the hint and leave me the fuck alone. All I’ve wanted for so long was to be left alone to my own devices, in a little cave by the sea with my cat and my journal and nothing more. And yet you all bombard me with these things like, where’s your life headed, do you want to be this way forever, are you really content. I don’t know, yes, no but who is. Fuck. Stop. Just stop talking. Your voice is a screeching in my head and it resonates everywhere bouncing off the walls and just stop. Just shut up. Everyone please just shut the fuck up. I will actually kill. I feel like I’m capable. I feel like everyone has this inside them and it gets to a point for some people where it comes bubbling up their throat and out it comes, and out it gushes, and there goes the blood all over the walls and floor and a jail sentence for life. It’s not even them it’s the fuckers that pushed them too far. Yeah there’s a reason for everything, so why don’t we take the time to realize that before I lop all your fucking heads off with one mighty swing of a big battle axe and we’ll see how quickly you all run away from me after that. Maybe then I’ll be left alone. Maybe then I’ll be alone. Fuck.

the way of the butterflies.

So, first it all begins. You catch each other’s eyes. Your mouths go dry with anticipation. Your faces light up without realization. And suddenly, you’re both swept off your feet with nothing more than a moment’s glance, feeling almost as if your feet have been gracefully lifted off of the ground. The very beginning of a new potential love. The butterflies have emerged.

Then the courtship. Those first kisses, those tender embraces, those soft giggles, those captivating smiles. Everything is a checklist, a test, an unspoken analysis of the things you like, the things you don’t like, the things you could learn to love, the things you can handle. And once the grading has been over and they’ve scored an A+, it’s on to the next stage – trying it on for size.

After you both realize that the shoe fits, it’s time to go walking the hard yards in them. Do they blister or are they blissful ? Time will tell. The key to surviving this crucial stage is endurance, patience and most of all – commitment. Many fail at this point as they realize that what they once dreamed of should have remained exactly that – a dream. But, if you’ve found that this person really is for you, congratulations. It’s off to being thrown into reality.

And thus, the butterflies have completely disappeared. They weren’t kidding when they said reality is a bitch. Reality is a mean, vicious bitch who wants to claw out the happiness from your smile. And once she smells new found romance, she can’t wait to sink her teeth into it and turn it into a nightmare. Oh, you survived your first argument ? That will be one of a thousand. Disagreements, tiffs, fights, tears, attacks, snide comments, sarcasm, cold shoulders, it’s all a part of the “romance” – or didn’t you read the fine print ? Your fairy tale ends here. There’s some things Disney never wanted you to see.

Unfortunately, that’s reality. It all comes down to the way you handle everything that gets thrown at you. It’s so easy to throw in the towel and declare that you can’t possibly take any more. But what about those feelings ? What about the butterflies ? What if you chalk it right down to the first time you laid eyes on that person ? Was it worth it in the end ? This is where most sink instead of swim, and it’s a real shame. Because if they took a second to fly backwards in time and reminisce on what was, and rekindle the butterflies, then maybe they’d change their final decision. I was never big on “forever”, but then again, I was never big on the word “sorry” either. Now it seems that the pair come hand in hand and have more meaning than I could have ever described. It’s amazing what a little time, a little patience and a little nip on the butt from that devilish angel Cupid can do. I get irritated with him. I sometimes want to strangle him, hit him over the head, shake him until he understands. I know he wants to kill me sometimes too. We both get into bad moods and want nothing to do with each other for a while. But I know that as soon as I get into his arms, I’ll see less of the villain here and more of the man I fell so madly in love with, from first glance.

I know I may be the worst advocate for romance. I’m not saying become a gushing couple immediately after disagreeing, sobbing and caressing until even the love gods throw up all over you. All I’m saying is have a little faith, and don’t give up on the butterflies. They generally don’t tend to steer you wrong.

 

life’s care factor.

When I think about life, I don’t think of anything other than death; death being the only inevitable in life. It’s a fact: I’m gonna die. And you’re gonna die, and your children will die, and your friends will die, and their friends will die, and their cousins will die, and the queen will die. We will all die. Other than that, nobody’s life is the same. I choose to not think about life. I choose to not make plans, make massive plans because who the fuck knows – tomorrow I could die. Seriously, who cares.

I don’t see what all this fuss and hubbub is about. We’re practically forced to make something of ourselves, make “the most” out of our lives, experience things – for what ? The lawyer that lives in the three story house and drives a Ferrari might die before that hobo living in a cardboard box eating insects. He might get into a car crash with his lovely expensive automobile, speeding just because he can, wrap himself around a pole. And the only measure of his worth is the size of his tombstone in the cemetery will probably be bigger than those of the people who made less money, and that’s that. Gone for good. Yet the hobo has lived another day, appreciating the fact that he has clean air in his probably rotting lungs.

So, yeah, call me pathetic, unmotivated, lazy, unambitious. I am useless. I am the most fucking useless person I know. I have nothing to my name, and no, I don’t want anything. I’d rather live in this moment and make sure I’m still alive by the time I finish typing this paragraph, and then I might go get something to eat, and then I might sit back down and read for a bit or some shit. I don’t know. I might not even make it to the kitchen. Who cares. Life is so fragile, so fucking fragile, and everyone sits around making these grand plans, I mean don’t get me wrong I understand it’s nice to live comfortably, but when did our lives start revolving around it ? Just go with it, go with life. It’s okay to have goals but don’t base your entire life around one thing that will someday be a minor detail. Stop trying to mold it so fucking much. I’m not an expert on life, some people would say I’m the last person to listen to, but it can’t be that damn hard to just drop everything and take a deep breath in, while your heart is still beating and you can still do that. Do things spontaneously, live a little, breathe a little, and stop driving yourself into the ground because you’re gonna end up there eventually anyway.

 

black bags.

Lately, I feel like I’m in a place that I shouldn’t be, that I don’t want to be right now. I’m tired and unmotivated, general aspects of my life are blossoming around me with fresh sweet scents and I’m just turning a blind eye. It’s almost like life is irritating me. People speak, but their voices are so screeching that I cover my ears in agony and crouch down in fetal position, hoping that they’ll move on to their next victim. It’s almost like everyone around me is hungry, and anything I can deliver, they feed on. The bigger my accomplishments, the greater their feast. Basically, so many people are intimidating me, they’ve unintentionally become monsters. I’m afraid of them, afraid of life. I’ve crawled back into my shell.

I’m trying to cleanse myself, from the inside through to the out. I’m not happy with myself. Not happy in the slightest. I know that there is so much room for improvement, I’m just lacking the tools to paint a brighter picture. I have different ideals to most about what constitutes a happy, full life. I don’t want to go to school, I don’t want to work, I don’t want to do any of those things – I will if necessary, but I don’t want to and therefore, I don’t have to. I don’t have to never catch a cold in my life to be healthy. I don’t have to buy extravagant luxuries to be comfortable. I don’t have to have a huge wedding with lots of cake and people I don’t like to have a successful relationship. And I don’t have to fit the mold of everyone else, to be a good person. I understand what life is about, I just don’t really care for it and in my eyes, I’ll die one day so until then I’ll just keep doing whatever I’m doing, to make myself happy eventually. Life isn’t about dollar signs, life isn’t about picture perfectness. Life is fucked, grasp that fact.

I just think that lately I’ve become lost in my thoughts, consumed in all the utter shit that surrounds me. I’ve been so high up for so long that I had to be dragged back down to earth. My head got caught in the clouds and it hit the floor. You know what, it happens. For no reason sometimes. Life will hand you lemons. If you don’t do what you’re “supposed to do” with the lemons, life will snatch the lemons right back off of you and hurl them at your head. Kick life in the balls and tell it to fuck off. Do it raw. I don’t want to listen to people constantly conveying the same message. “Get a job. Go to school. Be good to your family. Be good to your boyfriend. Choose your friends wisely.” No, I’ll do whatever I want to do. If I want to be a bum, I’ll be a bum. If I want to be a dumbass, I’ll be a dumbass. If I want to defy my family, I’ll defy my family. If I want to be lonely, I’ll be lonely. And if I want to be shit at life, I’ll be shit at life. Let me make the decisions for my life.

So it’ll take some time, but slowly, I’m going to get rid of it all. Everything that is clogging up my insides, I’m going to get rid of. I’m going to empty out all my thoughts, spill them out on the table. Then I’m going to divide them into piles. Then I’m going to take everything I don’t need, put it into a big black bag, and tie a knot. Then I’m going to throw that black bag away and hope it never comes back into my life again.

untitled: I.

Those fucking green eyes.

They’re the kind of eyes that are like a pool of water, you can see your reflection in them. So whenever I look at him, I look straight back at myself. It doesn’t help that he was always staring at me, keeping those eyes fixated on me. I hate it when he does that. I feel like he’s trying to read me, trying to figure me out. And then he smiles, a smile so big it lights up the room. I hate it when he smiles at me. Why do I deserve a smile like that ?

So we lay there, side by side, with our fingers intertwined. I lay on my back, gazing at the ceiling, while he of course kept a heavy hold on me. I tried so hard to avoid his gaze. It was nearly impossible. You know that feeling, when someone is just staring at you and you want to turn around so badly and stare back, so badly it’s almost like an itch ? Yeah, that.

I snapped. “What.” Not even a question, more of a statement.

He grinned slightly. His grin. Fuck.

“What, ‘what’ ?”

“Why are you staring at me. I hate it when you do that. You never give me an answer.”

He continued to study me. His eyes moved up and down, side to side, darting back and forth as he took me in. And then he smiled his grand smile, and looked me dead in the eyes, and said exactly what I knew he was going to say. “Nothing.”

By this stage I was getting frustrated. “I never get a straight answer out of you,” I retorted, busily snatching my hand away from his.

His eyes grew, his eyelashes framing them, darkening them, complimenting them. “What do you want me to say ?” he asked, almost puzzled, as if we didn’t have this argument every other week. I felt his grip on my hand grow stronger as I tugged it away, and his fingers wrapped around mine and it was impossible to escape and I still wrestled with his hand, bending my fingers back and forth, attempting to push his away harshly.

“Anything. Fucking hell. Anything other than ‘nothing’”, I replied bluntly. “I know there’s a reason. I just don’t understand.”

By this point, my other hand had gripped his wrist and was trying to pull it away from my hand; as he, almost mindlessly, slowly but surely beat me into submission and I hopelessly gave up the fight. He knew he had me, in any and every way one could possibly have someone. He’d caught me like a fish caught on bait. He’d caught me so effortlessly, he had left me breathless in a matter of a simple smile. A smile anyone could give someone. A smile a stranger offers on the street. A smile, nothing but parting of the lips to curl up and bare clenched teeth, contorting muscles within the cheeks to level cheekbones and widen the face. Absolutely, positively nothing. And he’d caught me.

It annoyed me that the battle was so easily won by him. It annoyed me that he always won, just because of the way he looked at me and slightly skewed his head to the side, grinning as if he could taste victory. And those fucking green eyes squinted so much that you could barely see them, you could no longer see the light dancing around in his pupils.

Sighing, he reconnected his fingers with mine. The force of his touch sent jolts down the side of my ribcage, as if I’d been mildly electrocuted – just enough to remind me that I was alive, in that place and moment, I was feeling this…this energy, this overwhelming aura that surrounded his very being. He intertwined our fingers, each finger meeting its partner. He lightly swept his thumb over mine, caressing my hands. He had a habit of making every second intimate. He could breathe, and I’d want to kiss him. There was just something so peaceful, so assuring about his presence; as if the weight of the world had been shifted, and everything was floating around us, and time had stopped and all the clocks in the world had just magically stopped, and nobody was moving except us. With a single touch, a single caress, he could do that.

There was absolute silence but the very soft breaths between us. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. He was still looking at me, dead in the eyes. It unnerved me a bit. Just to think that this remarkable creature was laying next to me, looking at me, trying to read me. What made me special ? What even made him special ? Who knew.

There was never awkwardness between us, not during silence or anything. We were just so comfortable that we could do just about anything and not think anything of it. Never tension or a single uncomfortable moment, just simple understanding. It was a strange feeling, a feeling unlike any other I’d ever felt with any person before. I could sit in silence with him for an entire day and not feel the urge to break it, I wouldn’t have to fidget, I wouldn’t get restless or frustrated. I could just sit there and just – be.

Finally, he answered my question. Two words, that I never expected I’d hear from someone and actually believe every word. Two words that I never thought I’d hear someone say as they’re looking me dead in the eyes, with no room for deceit, and he just said them, as if they were rolling off the tip of his tongue, as if we were speaking about the weather.

“You’re beautiful.”

I don’t think that he understood the magnitude of what he’d just said to me. The message he was conveying to me, was the one reason I had never thought of myself. Sure, guys had said the same thing to me before. It was all just words. Now, hearing it with substance and raw emotion backing it, made me feel as though I could taste the sky on my lips, I was flying so high above the ground, and yet, I hadn’t elevated anywhere from his side. I didn’t know what else to do.

So I kissed him.

I grabbed him roughly by the neck and I kissed him.

I kissed him with such a burning passion, it was almost furious. I felt petty for attempting to pick an argument, and to get that as my answer was somewhat a slap in the face. But I wanted to be slapped some more. To know that this glorious being was beside me, and he was looking into my eyes, and he was calling me beautiful, and he was being kissed by me, well – it’s a feeling so amazing, it’s indescribable.

I kissed him so hard I think the neighbours felt it upon their lips. Our noses squished together as he softly buried his hands into my hair, pushing me further into him. Our mouths clashed harder. Our lips were firmly pressed against each others. I could feel him breathing on my upper lip, I could feel his stubble gingerly graze my chin. I wanted to consume him whole, I wanted him to take me in, I wanted to stay there forever and ever just holding him tightly, squeezing every ounce of him, never allowing our lips to part. I was inhaling his scent, the scent of him that so many times I could smell on my pillow, on my clothes, in my hair, all over me. My hands drifted down his arms, his neck, his chest.

We slowly parted lips. We lay there, breathing in time with each other, looking at one another from a mere centimetre away. Grazing my nose with his, he smiled at me again. And this time, I smiled back.

And it was at that moment, when I looked into those big green eyes, I looked at my reflection and I thought – I am so fucking in love with you.

five thoughts.

I’m sitting here doing nothing in particular, and I’m sorting through my thoughts, somewhat filtering them out and categorizing them. I’ve fit them into five categories.

1. Family.
As much as I can resent my family, I cannot pick and choose who I am related to. Therefore, I can only honour and cherish them despite how they may treat me in return. This is mainly towards my younger brother. Sometimes, I don’t feel like he understands how much I have sacrificed for him. I have put my pride aside for him, just so we could establish a better relationship as siblings, and I feel as though I’m getting nothing in return – I’m not asking for a massive act of gratitude, but I wish he’d recognize the things I’ve done and the things I’ve set aside for him. I feel as though he’s limited in what he can say and the way he can act, especially because of the environment he’s currently stuck in, and it’s disabling him to grow as a person. I think that’s where our main issue, as siblings and as friends, lies. I really want to help him, but I’m unsure as to how to achieve that. I’ll work it out.

2. Friends.
I’ve lost countless friends over the past year. Not because of any real reason, just because I’ve blocked myself off from the world and honestly, it’s been the best damn move I’ve made for myself in such a long time. I’ve lost contact with so many people – some I intentionally distanced myself from, and some because we just grew apart. I’ve come back in contact with a few people from my past as well and it’s interesting to see how people evolve from childish teenagers to mature adults, and how they grow on their own. I now have a very limited amount of friends and a very, very limited social circle and honestly it’s exactly how I like it. No more drama.

3. The past.
I’ve come to grips with the fact that I am not my past anymore. Sure, certain aspects and lessons have moulded me into who I am today, but they do NOT make or break me. Dwelling on the past has only brought me pain, drama, headaches and heartaches and I’m not prepared to deal with that any longer. I’m not saying I’m throwing away the past because that’s impossible, and I’d never part with my memories just so I could have a clean slate. I know I’ve done some awful things in the past and I’ve made some bad decisions, I’ve been close minded and negative and I haven’t been willing to give anything in my life a chance. But now, now I’m a different person. Perhaps I’ve seen the light in some scenarios that has allowed my mind to develop further, or maybe I’ve just grown up, but I’ve cut ties with the person I have been and I’m going to focus on the person I will be.

4. The future.
Go to school, get a job, make money, die. That’s not what my life is about. Call me old fashioned, but I want to build my life around a family, around children and around giving everything I have for unconditional love. I’d love to travel, I’d love to learn new things and experience something extraordinary, but if it doesn’t happen for me then that’s not how my life is set out. I’d love to stay home and cook an exquisite dinner for my family. I’d love to read my child a bedtime story and tuck them in. I look forward to going and buying a kitten or a puppy to add to my household, I look forward to designing the interior of my home, I look forward to sitting back and saying this is all mine – and it can’t be taken away from me. Ideally, that’s my life. I KNOW I have to go to school and get a job, I’m hounded about that every day. But that’s not my main goal, that’s not what I’m looking for.

5. Love.
A necessity in my life. I thrive off love now, as much as I used to repel it then. I’ve realized the importance of it – not just romantically, but in every sense. The sense of the unconditional love of family. The sense of the unbreakable bonds of friendship. The sense of compassion for every living being, some people’s being stronger than others. I’ve been told numerous times that my heart is too big and my kindness gets mistaken for weakness, leading to people using me. I guess that’s just me though, and I can’t change that. I love widely. I try my very best to hide it, but it always seems to shine through in the end. When I love someone, I love them with my whole heart, no matter who they may be. And when I’m involved with someone, be it romantic or platonic, I do my best to put them before myself and focus on satisfying their needs before my own. I’ll always pour the other person a glass of water before I pour one for myself. Now, having such a small handful of friends, having realized the importance of family, and being in such a passionate and mature relationship, I’m starting to open my eyes to who I really am and how big my heart truly is.

Maybe I’m growing as a person, maybe I’m finally accepting the things that I always tried to reject in the past, everything people would always tell me or things that were just right under my nose but I refused to look down. Maybe, maybe, this is just me growing up.