Please don’t be a season

Please don’t be a season.

Don’t be a fallen leaf in Autumn that slowly dies as it hits the pavement.

Don’t be the touch of snow on skin that quickly melts away in Winter.

Don’t be the rainbow after rain, hiding behind clouds of grey in Spring.

Don’t be warm beach days, fresh green grass and bright sunny rays that pass by as quickly as time does in the Summer.

You’re not allowed to come in and out of my life like the weather.

I want you for years to come.

I want you like the comfort of sitting down after every long day, knowing it’s a luxury whether on the floor or a coushioned chair.

I want you like the tattoo on the bottom of my neck, wearing out from too much sun exposure, but always holding meaning within my skin.

I want you like the memories written in books passed down for generations– causing stories to be diluted, but still partaking in history.

I want you like all of my body, maybe growing weaker as I get older, but always remaining, always trying, still working after so much vulnerability.

You are not just a season to me, you are a year. A year full of life, memories, sunshine, rainy days, snow fall and golden brown leaves on the ground.

Please don’t just be another season.

Selfish

You can’t be happy for me. It’s called being selfish. You miss me in your life only because you’re lonely, only because it has changed for the worst for you. I’m happy. Understand I’ve made the right decision for me and if you did the same to me then I would understand. Some people don’t help us grow. Some people damage us when we try to hold onto them. My grip was so tightly wrapped around you and you had no idea. You didn’t feel me. You didn’t even fucking notice. It wasn’t until I let go when you felt some kind of loss. You took advantage of my love and the worst thing is you didn’t even know it. At least if you knew the extent at which I tried, it would’ve been easier. You didn’t even know, because you didn’t even care. And now you look at me, anger filling your light blue eyes. I hope you know I’m used to that face. Filled with anger when you see me. I’m used to disappointing you and pissing you off because your emotions were so easily angered. It’s called being selfish. Because when I don’t care to your needs, you get pissed off. You challenged our friendship so often because you didn’t fucking care. You hurt me without knowing and maybe that’s my own fault, but I thought I made it obvious. I thought all the times I stood by you for hours watching you mix, or being the only one to dance at your shows, or convincing your girlfriend to stay, or trying my hardest to hold back my true feelings would make it obvious. It may be my own fault, but it doesn’t mean I have to stay and continue to deal with those consequences. You’re hurt because I left. You’re hurt because I couldn’t be in a friendship where only I tried and you gave no shits. I’m sorry for saving my energy. I’m sorry for saving my time. I’m sorry for finally putting myself over you. I should’ve never pretended like I was okay. I should’ve never acted like I wasn’t suffering. I was. Now you know and you’re mad. Fuck you. I didn’t mean shit to you. Stop acting like I did.

Shane

You’ve shown me what I’ve been missing. So I’m sorry for the sudden attachment. I’m taking advantage of all the good feelings you give me. 

I’ve kept my heart closed for sometime and didn’t realize this until I started getting close to you. Not that you opened it. You didn’t pry. You didn’t take a wrench and screw with me until I gave in. You’ve been unlike the others. 

You waited. Sat patiently until I slowly tip toed over to you with curiosity. Until I reached out and touched you with my fingertips, only then did you do the same. You waited until I touched first, until I kissed first, until I opened up first. You made me feel like I could first.

I think that’s what made it so easy. You let me know beforehand that there wasn’t going to be any hurt. You proved you were someone I could open up to without being shut back closed. 

I’ve been hurt before and you make me forget that. I’ve been broken before and you make me feel repaired.

I don’t love easy. I’ve refused to. I’ve relied on myself and committed to being alone so that others couldn’t take advantage again. 

I don’t love easy. I don’t give myself easy. I don’t spend a majority of my time thinking about another person because I know what it leads to.

I don’t love easy. Why are you making it so fucking easy?

Time to move on

Last night when I saw you I was pretty happy. I knew I looked great and could sense your gaze on me at least for a moment. At least I knew you saw me, but then when our paths crossed again you pretended as if I wasn’t even there. You didn’t even look my way. You didn’t say hi or sorry. Maybe it’s my own fault for expecting that, but it hurt. I felt my heart drop slightly as you walked right by me and left the club. My heart dropped because there was a small part of me that still held onto the idea that maybe there was still a chance for us. When you walked by me I knew that it was over. I should’ve already knew but my overpowering imagination refuses to back down despite my rational mind telling it to. I imagined the night to go differently. That was my own fault. I told myself that if you didn’t say anything that I’d finally let myself let you go. That one part of me was hoping that wouldn’t happen, but I also knew it needed to. It’s been too long. I’ve been holding on to something that’s not even real. Last night you showed me that. I’m grateful and now I can finally move on.

Fighting the feelings

I haven’t been feeling as ambitious as I know I could be. At one point in my life that’s all I was, ambitious to become someone better, smarter, healthier, and organized. I’ve slowly let all of this go because when I was ambitious, it was to the point of being overly worked and stressed out 24/7. Maybe I fear that feeling and that’s why I’ve let go. I miss it though, the thirst and drive. Now I’m parched, but I fail to reach for a glass of water.

Feelings tend to get in the way of actions. I know this. I knew this when I was going through depression and refused to get out of bed some mornings. My list of chores and goals for the day completely ignored. But, I’m recovered now. At least enough to where I can get out of bed every morning, even if it’s reluctantly. I want to be ambitious again. I want to feel my feelings of laziness, of being unmotivated or tired and still continue on the path that I need to take to become the person I want to be.

That’s the thing with the connection between feelings and actions. We tend to think that one will always cause another. In my case, it has been my feelings taking control of the actions I take, but I know this can change. I’ve forced myself to write when I was unwilling and once I started seeing words appear before my eyes, my motivation had changed. It’s beautiful to watch. It’s like rain disappearing and turning to a bright sunny sky, with a rainbow appearing overhead. I can do this, I know. I just need a reminder that my feelings don’t have to have control all the time.

When I feel like smoking a cigarette, I really don’t have to. When I feel like staying in bed, I have the choice to jump out of my covers and plaster a smile on my face. When I feel like calling out of work, I can put in earbuds blasting some dubstep to get me in the mood. It’s the actions I take that can completely transform the feelings that may develop due to biological tendencies.

So, even though I’m scared, I need to keep trying. I don’t want to look back at my life only to realize I could’ve done more. I want to write a book. I want to get my degree. I want to be healthy. I want to convince others to do what they need to do to achieve their own goals and I know the only way I can do that is by doing it myself.

Only human

I realized what he meant, by feeling as if you’re a ghost in that environment. The music was blaring, the heat heavy and the crowd growing. You become so consumed by the addicting noise streaming through your ears and the weightless atmosphere brought on by multiple drinks that you become completely unrecognizable–not only to others, but to yourself. At least, that’s how it seemed when I glanced over at him that night. His head banging to the bass of the music and feet sliding back and forth to the rhythm. I smiled slightly, only because he looked so content at his ability to escape.

A group of girls stood next to him looking at him in curiosity, but he had no recognition of them at all. His eyes were completely empty, his face expressionless. He had become a ghost. And then he even disappeared like one, running off into the crowd. I stood on my toes, trying to catch sight of his hat in the sea of people, but couldn’t find him.

“What the fuck?” I looked over at my friend, who simply shrugged, unamused with the disappearing act. He focused his attention back to the stage and continued dancing. I tried. I tried hard to just focus on the music, to fucking disappear myself, but I felt everything. I felt my heart dropping and shoulders shrinking. I felt any movement of dancing that I attempted was useless and utterly vacant. A paranormal figure wouldn’t feel as much as I did in that moment. I sure as hell knew he wasn’t feeling the way I did.

He disappeared, and I stayed so clearly visible. Both my friends and the crowd sensing every movement, every turn of my head as I looked around for him. The mood between us collapsed completely, unable to be rebuilt by the vodka running through my veins or the music pouring out of the speakers surrounding us. This was one thing that music couldn’t possibly fix, because I knew it wasn’t going to be a good night and once you get that into your head it’s impossible to escape it. Once that feeling becomes conscious, there’s no way of preparing some sort of Houdini act to get rid of it.

So, we left early without a trace of him and headed towards the hotel room. My heart was thumping so loud it could’ve burst out of my chest at any moment. The thing was, I knew something bad was going to happen. I felt it deep down in the pit of my stomach that remained uneasy ever since getting in the front seat of his car the first time he took me out. I had this hideous feeling that he was going to end up hurting me. Yet, I still sat next to him in that seat comfortably. I laid in his bed willingly, opened up to him hesitantly and handed over my heart reluctantly. I thought that even though he may hurt me, I was strong enough to take on whatever he could throw at me. But, when I saw him laying down next to another girl, his arms wrapped around her tightly in the hotel bed, I knew I was wrong to ever feel that comfortable. I knew I was wrong to ever get into that fucking car of his.

You may feel like a ghost–like you are untouchable, empty, hollow and unseen, but you’re not. You’re human and you are seen. You’re false words are heard, brief touch is felt and guilty acts are watched. The loud music, chaotic crowd and double shots of whiskey don’t cover up shit.

 

I couldn’t save the fish

A costumer had left a plastic bag of six tiny gold fish outside of our store today. Just sitting there in the heat, squished together in the bag full of luke warm water and their own feces. When a man brought in the bag and handed it over, I picked it up with joy. I stared into the bag and watched the fish swim around in complete fear of my nose being so close to the plastic.

I told my coworkers that I would keep them. I was so excited. Something to care for, something to buy things for and love and give names to. Despite all my coworkers looking at me like I was crazy and saying they would die within a couple of days.

I still rushed home and poured then into a plastic container with fresh water. I was in the midst of planning my next trip to petco for supplies when I noticed one floating at the top of the water. They literally started dying a minute after I got them home. I don’t know what had happened.

I wanted to cry though. Watching as they started slowing creeping up to the top of the water, motionless, I decided to just flush them all down the toilet before I had to see the last 2 fall into the same fate.

I know I seem really pathetic and I’m overreacting, but I’ve been feeling extremely sympathetic to animals lately. There’s been a stronger desire to change my eating habits once again and I’ve always had veganism in the back of my mind. It’s always just floating there, like a dead fish in water. That’s all it is though, because without actually going through with it and taking the action needed to become vegan, it will always remain lifeless.

I’m going to try some new things though. We’ll see where these choices take me.