June 10, 2014

I learned from a very young age that people will always leave, no matter how much you beg or plead or how hard you hold on. Sometimes things happen and feelings change, and that’s okay. Because abandonment is a natural circumstance of life, and the earlier you accept that, the easier it becomes as you get older. So even though you walked out of my life, the ground shook but the house stayed still. As if I have been preparing for your departure before we even met.

Always be grateful for everyone but never let anyone take a part of you with them as they walk out the door.

February 18, 2014

I woke up last night and looked over to my phone. It was 3:30am. My arms were heavy and my eyes were exhausted. I had an overwhelming feeling of neglect, as if there was something I was supposed to do but didn’t. And as thought about my day before, replaying every moment in my head, trying to figure out what was missed, there was nothing. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. Everything was in its rightful place, in the proper spot of designation, in the appropriate section of my day. And as I put my head back down, the feeling of emptiness remained, like an uninvited house guest that has put her feet up on the coffee table. And so my mind began to wonder. I thought about my next day at work, about what I needed to do, about who I needed to call and about how things should be done. I thought about running errands the next day, about what groceries I needed to pick up, about which milk usually lasts the longest before going bad. I thought about the 3 different books I’ve been tampering with, trying to remember their plots, characters, settings, and conflicts. I thought about a joke told by one of my best friends, how silly and tasteless it was, but still amusing. I thought over the past few weeks of my life, scanning through people, events, and gatherings and thinking them over and over to the point of exhaustion.

And then I thought about us. About all the things we did. All the laughter we shared, all the smiles, all the places that we’ve been, and all the memories we had. And watching football at 10am while laying in bed will always be yours. So is wandering around the city at 2 in the morning. Mid-afternoon walks by the water, that’s you too. And of course, sitting in our favorite spot looking towards the skyline will always be you. And I thought about the last time we spoke. About what you said, about what I said, about the words that came out of my mouth and if they were the right ones, if I said the right thing or if I said something wrong, if I was misunderstood. And as I tried to explain myself a thousand times over, again, the outcome was all the same. That’s the thing with memories. They’re stubborn, unrelenting and often painful reminders of what has happened. And as you try to reason with them, trying to negotiate a different outcome, all you are left with is another reminder of what could’ve been. Another step back, another lapse in judgment. Memories don’t live like people do. 

Sometimes you know it’s the end. You stop thinking about what time it is over there, you stop relating to what she is doing, stop trying to check up on her. And you slowly remove every reminder of her in your life, until all that is left is too small to matter. It is better this way, it will get easier.

All good things must come to an end.

February 17, 2014
"Write hard and clear about what hurts."

— Hemingway

December 30, 2013

"The thing about coincidence is that when you imagine the umpteen trillions of coincidences that can happen at any given moment, the fact is, that in practice, coincidences almost never do occur. Coincidences are actually so rare that when they do occur they are, in fact memorable. This suggests to me that the universe is designed to ward off coincidence whenever possible—the universe hates coincidence—I don’t know why—it just seems to be true. So when a coincidence happens, that coincidence had to work awfully hard to escape the system. There’s a message there. What is it? Look. Look harder.” 

December 16, 2013

I’m living my life as if I got powers, and tonight I feel immortal

November 29, 2013

One too many “This is my last cigarette ever”

Don’t trust people who don’t want to be trusted.

Never be sorry for who you are. Never feel the need to be someone different for the sake of other people.

"All along, all along, I guess I’m meant to be alone, out there on my own."

Remind yourself that you have been through worse before. This is nothing new. 

Always too proud to ask for help. Always too proud to seem weak. Or helpless. Or sad. That’s kinda my thing, I guess.

I hope I never call. I hope I never get that fucking hopeless.

It gets easier. I promise.

November 25, 2013

"Even if you think the flame has died, there’s at least one lyric that’ll hit that last hot spot, and then you’ll find yourself as fucked as you were the day you lied and said you never wanted to see her again."

November 12, 2013

I wondered what would’ve happened if I took a different route home that night, if I stopped at a store on the way, if the steps I took were a little bit longer, a little bit more deliberate. But there was something about the way you approached me that night, as our eyes met, made me more aware of my surroundings, made me remember warmth, made me realize how necessary it was to meet again. And there was something about the way you looked at me, as if there was a lesson to be taught, that the past will always linger, that it will always come back around in the same way that it was left. It revealed to me that resolutions are more important than I thought they were. And as you opened your mouth, sincere words flowed through the air and into my ears. There was a certainty in your voice, every word was intentional but careful, how convinced you were about everything you were saying. And a feeling of helplessness came over me as you were piecing together your words, as you spoke about how you were piecing together your life. It all made a lot of sense. Everything about it made me feel ecstatic, and hopeful, and dejected, and wistful. Everything about that night affirmed the distance created between us, how different things were, how I must continue to keep my distance. You are better off without me. I know that now, but I don’t want to believe it. Not yet.

And as you asked me about my life I had to look away, and like a liar I told you that everything was fine, that everything is going as planned. I couldn’t look into your honest eyes, they’re too genuine to be lied to. The way you stare, searching for the truth of the matter, searching deep into the soul. I just know that I have to let it be. I have to remain apart, and let things run their course. I guess that’s something about me that has changed, something that I’ve been able to let go. The habit of holding on too long. I have rid myself of that. It helps me to be more careful, to be more safe.

I gave you a smile as you walked away and said goodnight, and it was a honest smile, because all I really wanted you to know is that I’m happy that you are finding your way, that you are on the correct path.

October 16, 2013

Oh yes

There are worse things 
than being alone
But it often takes decades
To realize this
And most often 
When you do
It’s too late
And There’s Nothing worse than 
too late.

Charles Bukowski

October 14, 2013

Some days you wake up and your shoulders feel heavy and your heart feels drained

And you miss people and you miss places

Then you force yourself up and you start your day anyway

And it gets easier.