I spend each day waiting for my heart to be broken again, waiting with anticipation, on the edge of my seat. But not for something good, not for the climax the most exciting part. My heart gets filled with live just to have it drained away leaving my veins filled with blood and regret. Why am I always so stupid? Why will I never be happy?
Yay procrastination…the end.
If I told you what I’m feeling would it scare you away
Or would it make you want to stay
I told myself don’t get attached, like all the others this won’t last
Like a fleeting summer breeze
Like the falling of autumn leaves
But then you put your hand on my knee…
the way you looked at me
I knew I could never be free
But I saw a sadness there
As you ran your fingers through my hair
And told me we’re something that can never truly be
And so I find myself paralyzed by loneliness again…it’s this overwhelming feeling that wells up inside and makes me unable to do anything. I have all the things in the world to do and yet all I can make myself do is rant about my feelings. Maybe it’ll help me be productive again. I’ve become completely disillusioned with my job and my classes don’t excite me. Every day I have this feeling like I’m slowly falling and I can’t stop. It’s not like I don’t have friends, but something is missing…I don’t know what exactly, but something. Periods of time come where I feel perfectly happy and satisfied with my life, but then I sink back into my feeling of falling. It takes every ounce of strength to not spend the entire day sitting in a corner and crying. I try to tell myself positive things like Hey at least you don’t have Ebola!, but nothing seems to help.
No matter what I do I just feel like it’s not good enough so I’ve decided to just do what I have to and hope no one will notice. Every day I feel stretched thin, like I’m being pulled in all directions. No matter how much sleep I get I’m tired and on edge. I’m wound tight, a rubber band slingshot that could snap at any moment. How much longer can I hold on before I snap? I hope no one is around when I do.
All I have to say about this one is it’s about a recurring disturbing theme in my life. Also guys need to grow a pair and stop being dicks…that is all.
I’m seen in pieces
Hips, eyes, tits, ass
Like a puzzle scattered across a table
What about heart? What about soul?
The corner pieces
How can you put a together a puzzle without corner pieces?
I’m seen in pieces
I guess there are a thousand
No one will take the time to put them all together
You’ll never see the whole picture
Unless you put them all together
Dig through all the other pieces to find the corners
Or leave them scattered
Does anybody want to put me together?
I’m seen in pieces.
Just watched the Bonnie & Clyde two part special
Take me down in a rain of bullets, gunfire, and blood
I’m too notorious for your love
A dark force, slut, a thief
I’ll take you down with me
You better not fall or six feet under is where you’ll sleep
Stay with me I’ll bring the glory and the fame
Tell our story, sell your soul for everything
Daddy let me drag you down into the flames
1. Coming to the door to pick someone up.
I think we’ve all had it with the incredibly unromantic “here” text, and meeting up always seems to be more casual and platonic than the alternative. Of course, meeting someone from online or any circumstance like that would probably be the exception to this rule, but generally: the 30 seconds it takes to get out of a car or cab and knock on the door makes a huge difference.
2. Trying to dress really nicely for a date.
“Nicely” means different things for different people, so I think it’s just a matter of putting effort into how you put yourself together to go out with someone. It’s not about wearing suits and petticoats again, but just realizing that, whether or not we like to accept it, appearance does count for something, and we should do our best to make sure that…
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So I know I’ve been MIA for awhile, but as I’m sure you know it is finals time and I’m attempting to survive that hell. My brain is like swiss cheese at the moment and I’m too exhausted to think of pithy comments. So ladies and gents without further ado…
The Things That Make Me Stay
the way you run your fingers through my hair
when you told me I was gorgeous
the way you smell, warm and comforting
the way you just hold me when I’m sad, trying to make me smile
the way you’re like a big kid, but a man all at once
the way you hold me close when I’m cold
the way I feel safe when I’m in your arms
the rush I get when you touch my skin
the way your hand always finds mine
the way you let me use you as a leg rest and hold you while you work
asking for my opinion
caring about what I say
your soft skin
the way you say you’ll miss me when we go away
you’ll be waiting for me when you get back
the way I want to be with you every day
All these and so much more are the things that make me stay
Sitting in bed watching “Eat, Pray, Love” while attempting to write a paper may not seem like the most productive use of time, but it’s given me an idea, an epiphany of sorts. In the movie Liz and her Roman friends are discussing what word describes the places they’re from. Her new Swedish friend asks “What’s your word Liz?”. She can’t answer the question and her friend tells her that maybe she’s a woman in search of a word. Maybe I too am a woman in search of a word. How can you know who you truly are when you let the actions and words of others define you? This semester hasn’t been easy and it’s not getting any easier. It started with a bad roommate which led to losing someone I thought was a good friend all mixed with failed relationships and heart ache. Too many nights spent alone wondering why I’m alone and why I’m not ok with being alone, but maybe that’s not the real question. Maybe the real question is who am I? who do I want to be? Just me, no one else, because no one else can decide for me. That betraying friend, that bad roommate, those selfish guys. I need to find my own word, one that I come up with and nobody else because the only word that comes to mind now is lost. “Ruin is the road to transformation.”
Also that friend that I talked about having sushi with in a previous post who was also experiencing man problems…she now has a boyfriend…#foreveralone. Also my mom has this new weird obsession with me needing to get back together with my ex. I’m still trying to process this…ranting blog post and thoughts to come later. (Stay tuned. Same bat time, same bat channel.)
Falling in love hurts, it’s painful and raw and exposes our greatest vulnerability. They might as well call it tumbling into love, getting shoved into love, tripping and twisting an ankle into love…you get the picture. As women we are expected to be emotional, passionate creatures that swoon when we look into a man’s eyes…false. I’m not going to pull a Scarlett O’hara and toss myself down a staircase because I’m distraught that my lover has left me or make a dress out of curtains to try to win him back. I’ve always been very independent and pretty clumsy when it comes to expressing my emotions, but for some reason when it comes to men I just can’t seem to control myself. Why? I honestly don’t know. I never had “daddy issues” and wanted to run off to Vegas to become a stripper…excuse me, “exotic dancer”. And one of my biggest pet peeves is overly clingy women who are dependent on men for everything. Ever since coming to college my love life has been like Dante’s 7 circles of hell. Every circle is full of worse and worse men and I always tell myself I won’t fall prey to another jerk, but it always happens. I think oh he’ll be different, he seems so sweet…nope…they’ve all been the same and every time it’s a slap in the face. In spite of myself it’s happening again…I’m falling for someone…he seems so amazing, but I’m so scared that it’s going to be another tripping and twist an ankle kind of love instead of a gentle falling into his arms kind of love.