I should probably not keep a knife in one of the drawers of my room. It’s too tempting.
Shuffling rocks between my feet in the tiny stoop of my backyard reminded me of that night that you whispered to me if I was scared of the dark, grabbing so naturally for my hands and putting them around your waists, letting me rest my head against your broad chest, leaving us to sway to the rhythm of your heart and to the subtle current of the cool summer breeze. I thought about it for a brief moment and answered back with a slight, affirmative nod and an airy “yes”, just because I wanted that moment to last for an eternity. And I’m pretty sure that I felt your chest rise with a deep chuckle, fully knowing that I was simply kidding around with you. And we stayed there for a little while, feeling a bit awkward and flushed with an innocent excitement, even though there were dozens of people around us running about to get to their own cabins, screaming beloved good night’s to each other — girls and boys weren’t allowed to really interact with each other, as this was a church retreat. Oops, guess that one rule slipped with us.
So I lit a match today and smoked a cigarette in bittersweet remembrance of that strange night in the forests of Pennsylvania. Nothing went beyond what I just described and we never spoke about it the morning after. And even though we’ve never really gotten to know each other on deeper levels than we would have liked to, we’ve always had this unusual pull, this attraction, between us; and I find it pretty remarkable and comforting… I saw you recently, actually, unexpectedly — I won’t dare to bring it up with you, but I just wanted to thank you for giving me such a tender memory to look back upon.
I have this sandpit in my heart that keeps growing larger and larger, carrying this misconception that I could keep filling the void with things that can’t really fill it. Sometimes I plan on leaving, so I stop talking to people altogether, wanting them to feel at least some of the emptiness that I have been feeling. Is that bad of me? Well, I think that people, ultimately, are selfish and the root of everyone’s actions is so that they can all derive something from it, even if the intent is trying to be selfless. That being said, I guess I can’t argue or get angry when some of my closest friends (well, “close friends”) throw me off to the side and leave me to wonder whether or not we were even friends at all.
I want to distance myself from people, but where is that going to lead me? And is it really worth the trouble?
Maybe I should really consider saving up to move out to a new country or state and escape from everything that is holding me back here. And yeah, you can chide me and tell me that things somewhere else isn’t going to be any more different there than over here, but for one thing — I’ll be going to a new place with new people. I won’t have to worry about trying to always clean up the messiness that people in my past have left for me. I won’t have to worry about running into anyone I know, ever.
There’s a looming sadness and loneliness that I can’t shake today, no matter how hard I try.
I don’t think that this is what I ever wanted and I don’t think that this is what I have ever imagined what would have happened if I told myself that I was ready for this. It all seems a little hazy, a bit blurry, and a lot of hurt that has piled up in the confines of my chest, waiting to bleed out and sap every bit of energy and hope that I have been harboring inside of me… But I guess that’s what always happens when time seeps past you without you ever realizing that you’re slowly rotting away, until you consider taking a moment to think about who you are, where you are, and where you could have been or potentially could be in the next however few months.
I am becoming more and more disgusted by my actions, myself, and what my heart feels because it all seems so fake and routine. I don’t mean to say that I’m being fake (well, isn’t everybody fake to a certain extent?), but I think that that saying “fake it ‘till you make it” holds no merit. In hindsight to my words and actions, I just feel incredibly narcissistic and repulsively ignorant. There is a clear line between working towards being who you want to be and pretending to be that person; the most difficult part is not succumbing to the latter.
Where is my conviction? Where is that steel that turned me into a workaholic machine who wanted to be extroverted, connected with the world, and acquire all the good, better things in life?
I keep thinking that leaving is the solution, but is it really?
I’m beginning to worry. A lot.
I’ve been feeling pretty lousy all day and it’s almost as if my own brain has been endlessly encouraging this engrossed emotion of utter lousiness. I can’t quite pinpoint where I went wrong in this whole mess of mine, why I choose to trudge on this terrible pathway as a default, and I’m sort of at this point where nothing really matters (like the entire process of how I got here) except for the end conclusion of these matters. I keep feeling discomforted by the fact that I’ve become so disconnected with most of my close friends - well, they used to be close friends, anyways. And I keep on overbearingly worry about certain, careless people because far too many people in my vicinity have been passing away into the afterlife, whether it be through a gruesome suicide or a tragic accident of overusing drugs. Life, everything that we [can thankfully] touch, see, hear, and absorb through our thoughts and senses - these are all real things. It can’t get any more real than this. And I keep seeing these people around me throwing their lives away over petty, minuscule things, material objects, or people… I want to shake them by their shoulders and ask them to please look at the world from a different perspective than the one that they wallow and throw self-pity parties in. (Well, I can’t say much about this one because I’m pretty guilty and hypocritical myself, but I presume that you would understand the idea.) Point is, we are only granted one, single, absolute life and this time, the time that I am writing this or the time that you are reading this, is something that we will never ever be able to get back. Can you think of anything more special, important, or precious than that?
As of late, I find myself bathing in many uncertainties, unsure of whether I am floating or drowning. All I can do is to head on forward, reminding myself to take in a deep breath with every step that I take, because this pent up anxiety really does pile up and ruin me. I don’t know. I’ve been feeling kind of lonely lately and in need of a coffee run and physical company. I miss the people who are always coming in and out of my life as they please, but am I willing to constantly get my heart broken and disappointed?
I don’t know where this is going, so I will lay my thoughts and aching heart here to a lingering pause.
I’m not somebody who you could delicately place on top of one of your dusty, wooden shelves as if I’m some kind of a trophy. If this is what you’ve been thinking, I am most certainly not your Dean Moriarty’s Marylou. You’ve learned that the hard way and I applaud your incredulous audacity to try and maintain some sort of a contact with me, asking me how I’ve been and attempting to reel me in with one of your false promises again, reminding me of the better times in the past. But the past is the past and that can never be brought back to the present. I’ve been choosing not to respond to you because I’ve realized that I could keep letting you in and win my heart, only to break it all over again, but why waste my time and energy on something that truly will not work out in the end — and for these life lessons that I have been trying so hard to teach you, but you need to learn them for yourself. I’m sorry, I forgive you, and I miss you, but I can’t waste any more of my breaths on you. My life is as precious as yours, but unlike you, I am conscious of this fact and I am choosing to find peace within myself, with everyone around me, and am trying to find a carved pathway to a successful future of who I want to be and what I want to do.
Please… Be well.
I noticed today that one of the things that I look for, whether I am friends with somebody, in a relationship with them, or in a familial relation with them, is — well, I’ll state it down under this blurb. Something that I look for in people, what I find heartwarming, and why I choose to keep them in close vicinity:
1. If I am clearly aggravated, irritated by somebody or something that has happened to me where I need to release some of my stress by venting or explaining to them about what had happened, they reassure me that they have my back no matter what and side with me instead of staying neutral, having no opinion whatsoever, or wanting to abruptly switch topics to an entirely different course of discussion… Also known as “taking things seriously.”
I guess a part of me is so offended when certain people I trust, love, and care for don’t side with me on these simple things because I always play the part for other people. Why can’t they do the same for me? It’s a way of letting them know that I am thinking about them, sympathizing with how they feel, and understanding what they are going through. I don’t expect people to side with me on everything, of course, but it would be inexplicably incredible if they would tell me how they really feel, dig a little deeper, instead of brushing multiple issues off and not realizing the gravity of the reality of things.
I feel like trudging to my town train station, taking the next random ride to God-only-knows-where, and seeing where the hell I would end up in the next one or two hours. (That would probably go particularly swell because I’m such a sheltered, clueless child… Ha.)
I am trying to get back to the person who can write endlessly about those unforgettable, canary yellow sunbeams flooding in through the slits of her window blinds that look almost exactly like the many scars that lay healing on her wrists. I am trying very hard to reach out to that same girl who could stare at those slinking shadows that spin around, almost as if they are all in some twisted, frightening ballet, on the off-white walls of her room, without getting too tired of them. Lost, senseless, and off-balanced is not how I have wanted to become during these past few months… But the numbing has taken its toll. Trying to rewind to the past where everything was branching off into new directions with limitless possibilities makes me wonder if that is still, at all, possible. I can’t quite place a finger on what this heart of mine has been saying and feeling, but all I know is that it desires to be catapulted back into this specific period of time in the past where things actually made sense and a pathway for my future was somewhat securely and happily locked. My heart sinks to the bitter, acidic bowels of my stomach with a raging anxiety when I think about what is to come and the hurdles that I have to go through to simply survive in this life. I am battling all of this, and more, by myself and I think that that’s the worst part about it… Bah, late night Easter rambles because today is supposed to be about celebrating at church with family, or being with family in general - but why am I left alone with feeling so depressed and stuck with such a shitty situation again? I don’t know. All I know is that I feel like violently vomiting chunks everywhere.
The air is so violent today, chilling me to my deepest core, and it kind of makes me wonder how things would have been if I hadn’t chosen the school that I chose to go to and the place that I call home. Days like these make my imagination go as wildly as the thrashing winter wind. How could I be so grateful for what I have and the people who I am surrounded by, but at the same time be so selfish, lonely, and stagnant in this unending spiral of despair? There is a poison that runs somewhere in the depths of my veins that should be warm, but I can’t seem to identify it or get rid of it.
I think I left too much of me with you when I decided to cut you off.