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.

Freedom

I feel free. I saw you today and I almost smiled. I haven’t talked to you in a few days and I’m happy. I didn’t think I’d feel this way, but I do. I’m going to embrace it, because I deserve to be happy. Even if I did make you sad. I can only be in control of my own emotions, not yours. As much as I’d like to make you happy– that’s all I’ve been trying to do since we’ve been friends. I’ve put your emotions in front of mine for too long. It’s what I did for him too. The both of you were my number ones and I was always number two, just like I was for you.

I’ve cared so much and you’ve cared so little, wrapped up in your own life and drama of your love. You forgot I was there, in the sidelines cheering you on. Always there when you were down, when you didn’t want him, when you didn’t have him to hold. I was there. For the both of you. Open ears, open mind, open arms, but I left my heart closed. Because if it remained opened, I would’ve gotten burned, which is exactly what happened. I finally opened it. I finally opened my heart and my mouth to speak and you quickly shut it down. You can feel, but I can’t. You can love, but I can’t. You can fight, but I can’t. You can stir up drama and hate and confusion, but I can’t. I must remain silent around you and it hurts. It’s my own fault though. I shouldn’t fall into those bad habits. I shouldn’t let people walk all over me, talk to me without listening to me, judge me without hearing me out, fight with me without considering my side. When that’s all I do. All I do is wonder about you. How you’re doing. How he’s doing. How you’re both fucking doing and it hurts. Maybe I ended this the wrong way, but at least I ended it. I can say more than you can.

Me, Myself and I

I looked at myself in the mirror, my eyeliner fading from the 8 hour work day. I pull out the black pencil from my purse and use it the darken the lines. They shape perfectly around the course of my eye lid and flip up on each side to create a wing. The darker, the better. It distracted from how tired my eyes looked and if I had makeup on, it gave me yet another reason not to cry as I got through the night.

“You going out tonight?” My co worker looks me up and down as I continue fixing my face.

“Yea,” I sigh, finally putting down the eyeliner to take a good look at my attempt.

“Where to?” She continues to pry and I try not to scowl.

“I don’t know,” I lie through my teeth, throwing all the makeup I had spread about on the bathroom’s counter back into my purse. We’d both just got off of our shift and she tended to follow me out every time. I think she liked me, but I couldn’t tell you why. Every time she asked me a question I’d try my hardest to brush her off. I didn’t need friends. That’s not what I came to work for. I need money and answering her annoying questions isn’t going to get me any.

“Oh,” She stalls, grabbing onto the purse that’s hanging by her side, “Well, you’re working tomorrow aren’t you?”

“Yeap,” I finally close my bag and throw it onto my shoulder, “See you in the morning.”

I closed my eyes before grabbing onto the bathroom door handle and pushing onto it, freeing me from the confinement of her awkward imposition. Letting the door shut behind me, I rushed out to make my way to the parking lot. Without looking back, I hear the door slowly open again from behind me. I felt bad, but wasn’t I making it obvious that I didn’t want her hanging around me?

I can’t understand people like that, fucking needy. I was needy once and wanting of what I couldn’t have. Maybe I do understand. It’s an instinctual feeling, because of our social upbringings. We were once just animals trying to survive by finding our pack. Hunting in groups and forming families to avoid isolation. It was for safety.

I’ve felt like I needed someone before, until I realized that this feeling was just that. It was just a feeling. In modern society, shit has changed. People aren’t all looking for packs or friends or even a romantic partner. We have to manage to look out for ourselves and ourselves only. I could spend my whole life finding other people who could potentially be there for me, only to have them leave me stranded in a field surrounded by tigers hungry to chew on my flesh.

Today, we can’t be listening to our outdated biological triggers. You want a friend? You feel lonely, isolated, sad? Find something that’s constant, because people aren’t. I’ve decided my efforts are going towards a pursuit that wouldn’t abandon me. Money is constant. It doesn’t abandon me unless I choose to spend it on some new shoes.

Stop looking for people. Stop chasing people. They get swept away by life events as easy as paper does in the wind. The only person rooted down into the ground in your life is you. So, start investing time in growing trees to make your own paper instead of assuming your roommate will have some extra for you in her printer.