I only know that I am better where you are

I’ve wanted to write for a while now. I have made attempts, but had difficulties getting my thoughts in order. Story of my life…always so unsure of myself, unsure of my future, unsure of my decisions.

Then you came along and became the thing I was most sure of. I could have made a list on new years of everything I wanted in a boyfriend and I can make a list now of everything you are to me and they would be spitting images of each other. You are everything I have wanted. You are just what I needed. Without even trying you have managed to bring out in me things that no one else has. You have given me a comfort that I had never been capable of feeling. I have never felt that I needed anyone else to be fulfilled, but when you pulled me to the surface I realized how much deeper I could breathe.

I want to know everything about you. I want to listen to your stories and learn about all the things that made you who you are. I want to know all your hopes and dreams. I want to combine them with my own and together make them a reality.

I want to be the most amazing girlfriend to you because that is what you deserve. I want to go on more adventures with you, I want to lend my support to you when needed, I want to have full trust and faith in you, and I just want to love you. I enjoy every minute I spend with you no matter what we are doing and I miss you terribly when I am away from you. Our situation is not ideal, but it is far from impossible and I think we are doing a fairly good job so far. The sacrifices are worth it to me. You are worth it to me.

“You make every day feel like kindergarten.”

In other news:

Today I did my graduation audit to further confirm that I am, in fact, only 3 classes away from possessing a bachelor’s degree. It’s so fucking scary. I’m scared of the real world. I’m scared of my plans not coming together [which has been a reoccurring theme in my life]. I’m scared of making poor decisions that would ultimately cause me to fall on my face.

I cry a lot lately. I cry at the sight, sound, smell, taste, or touch of just about anything. I’m crying right now in short spurts. I highly considered buying some st. john’s wort at whole foods the other day, but, aside from not having much money, I don’t feel depressed. I feel overwhelmed, stressed, unmotivated, and panicky, but not sad. I desperately hope that closing the book on my 4^th year of college will help subside some of these feelings

dear 2009, i didn't dodge all your bullets i just denied that they hit me

I've been growing up right before my very eyes. I've spent so much time swimming with the sharks; the only way to escape being to allow the waves to take me down, to drown me, the salty water filling my lungs. The end was always like a godsend, the salt water burning, healing my wounds. Well I no longer have time for such nonsense. I no longer have the energy to put myself in such predicaments. Things are changing. They have to.

2009
A lot of things changed, too many stayed the same. small number of new friends, large number of lessons learned. a lot of what i had set my mind on doing got done. overall, you weren't so bad to me. you did, however, stab me in the heart at just the moment when i thought i was going to make it out unscathed. thanks for that.

2010 resolutions
1. to try my damnedest to forget you ever existed. i mean that in the most loving way possible and the only reason i'm able to sleep at night is because i know you know that. it's been nearly 1 year and 13 months and i've learned so much in your absence.
2. find myself a good man (i don't care how stupid this sounds. i think it's time)
3. to not be living here by this time next year


[title credit: Flatsound]

If you ever want some trouble, but can't afford the alcohol, I'll be here waiting

I breathe you in as though you’re some rare find. I want to inhale you and have my lungs contain you and nothing more. But it’s suicide and I know it. It’s suicide, and we both know it. I want nothing but peaceful skies, fields of fucking flowers, and sheer happiness running through your veins and you want nothing more than to make it from day to day still on top. You never want to feel an ounce of vulnerability. You never want to lose your control. You never want to feel anything except victory and satisfaction. And for that I am sorry. Because you make me feel as though i am drowning in vulnerability, you make the best attempts I’ve seen at taking away my control, you make me feel like a failure, and you make my breathing come to a standstill. Can we say recipe for explosion? I hate the way I can feel you in my bones, but sometimes I like the games you play. Let it continue because I always know your next move.

I need some meaning I can memorize

Everything is so cluttered. Things that I've decided I no longer wanted to use, no longer wanted to toy with. I put them all in a toy chest deep within a poorly lit corner of my heart. Instead of discarding these items, they've ultimately just began to pile up on me. The toy chest has busted open. It's contents, scattered. The room, so full I can feel it pushing against the walls of my heart. It's as if I'm afraid to throw them away, of having them end up in some waste land. I want to have a garage sale so that I can approve of what is taking them away. Knowing they will take good care of them. Knowing where to call if I ever want them back. Although I may never need them back. I might be just fine having them gone. Gone for good. Incapable of ever pushing their way into my pile again.
Why am I such a compulsive hoarder?

I was wasting my time, for a love that never comes, from someone who does not exist

Your kind of love, baby, is poison in my veins;
flowing through my head,
through my heart,
through every hope i've had.
Every hope for change,
for happiness,
for truth.

You are poisoning me.
You are poisoning me.
You are poison to me.

my burning soul and the only one who satisfies it

I can rationalize the shit out of a paper bag. Anything and everything in my life. I can rationalize all the moves I make, as well as, all the moves I choose not to make. But you, and your absence from my life, is something that I cannot rationalize. It's something that I cannot find much reason for. The idea is ridiculous and borderline insane in my mind. It doesn't make sense to me. It doesn't feel right to me. You feel right to me, in a way that nothing else does. And I go from day to day alternating between wishing I had never met you to thanking some god I don't even believe in that I did. But none of it matters, because you are just a ghost in the hollows of all my dark mistakes. You are just a ghost. Everyday you are fading further into the abyss. Everyday you drift further out of my reach. Everyday the harsh reality of this cuts like a blade through my ventricles. And with all the blood loss, and the subsidence of the beating of my heart, running after your ghost has become nearly more than I can handle. Just know, it was always going to be you.

6 billion people OR who I'd reeeeally like to meet OR the science of selling myself short

The title possibilities for this one were seemingly endless. The content has been running through my mind, through my bones, for a week now. For some unknown reason I couldn't bring myself to write it out. Hell I still don't know if I'll be able to. Fuck it. I can't. Or i guess I can, but I'm going to choose not to. I'm going to choose not to put myself through the process of once again sifting through the list of traits that I will continuously settle for doing without. I'm not in some fairytale land. This is the real world. The real world is ignorant. The real world will never understand me when I speak to it. The real world will mistreat me. The real world will never know what it wants. The real world will never take responsibility for its actions. The real world will always be in the palms of my hands. My hands will always hand out chance after chance to the real world. Those very same hands will ultimately toss that world into the trash because if this is the real world and if this is all I have then I would much rather have nothing. I am not in it for some second rate happiness. I am not a settler. I am not a cop-out. I am stronger than most. I am not alone. My loneliness is something I choose for myself daily. I am admitting it, but it is only because it seems better than surrounding myself with such carelessness.

I need a cool shower.
I need a warm glass of tequila.
I need sufjan stevens' angelic voice.
I need apathy.