going for a ride

it was a simple comment from his friend. "don't worry i won't make you do stuff like jordan does"

it kinda threw off my whole day.

why is it that jordan is in control now? i was always on top. always the one to get bored and move on. always the one to leave guys in the dust. why is it not like that this time? love? is it because i am in love?


is this the best kind of love?


i basically do whatever he tells me too.

why is it that?


when i'm finally in love.
i really found it.

and it's now that i feel so vulnerable. impressionable? for this guy.



never ever ever before was a boy able to make me do whatever he wanted.


and it worries me just a bit.

he has my complete respect. not like the others.
they had practically none of my respect,
they made themselves easy to leave behind.

they basically made themselves extra baggage, and are lucky that i took them along for a short ride.

but it's like I'm the extra baggage now. I'm the one going for a ride. and i'm the one who would be easy to forget about.

waste of his damn time.

^^that's completely over

i know you shouldn't replace someone with someone else.
doesn't mean i haven't tried.

i know that you should "hate" the guy who broke your heart, and left you.

i know it shouldn't take this long to forget about it.


honestly, i don't love him anymore, how could i still love someone who played me like that. like every other girl. to me love is caring about someone else more than yourself, and i don't care about him more than myself anymore.


the trouble is, i can't get over him. his touch, his taste, his scent, his smile.


i know to him i was just some little girl that he wasted time on. not spent. wasted.


i hate being a waste of time.


and trying to get over being just one big waste of time, by waisting your time on some guy that is annoying as hell is not the way to go about this. not at all.


you know it's no him that i miss at all. it's the whole being in love thing. i miss all that. because it's not something that just happens. once it's lost it takes time to find it again.

what my dad can't know

i am sleep deprived.

i am more physically fragile than i ever remember being in my past. cuts and bruises everywhere from things that shouldn't really be making an impact. my ribs are so easy to feel, like never before, just there, not fat between my hands and my little ribs, and it hurts, a lot. everything just hurts. my hips mimic my ribs and jut out of my sides when i lie down. i still don't think i look thin, so all this rib and hip stuff makes no sense.


and i am so dizzy all the time. always tripping over little things, and stumbling to haul my bag over my shoulder.


somebody was playing around with me today, and scooped my up with one arm, like i weighed absolutely nothing, and when he placed me back on the ground i crumpled to the floor, smashing against the metal shelf behind me on the way down, while the metal cut my wrist (something didn't notice until i was collapsing into my seat in my next class).


since my dad left my sleeping has been horrible and insubstantial.


it got better for a while, the security of love easing my thoughts, allowing me to rest.


but now i lay for hours
my thoughts going a mile a minute
racing to fight for a minute of their own.

if one of the more important thoughts does get a spot in the lime light,
i probably will not enjoy thinking about that single thing any more than i enjoyed searching for just one thought.
so then i will push it away to be replaced by a thousand other racing worries.




and when my body's anguish finally wins out over my mind's fickle thoughts
my horrible dreams take over.


waking me over and over again
i wake up crying
or screaming
possibly just shaking,
or rigid, not moving a muscle.

and once i get my bearings,
and realize that all these horrible things are only dreams
and nothing more
my racing thoughts come rushing back like a river,
i eventually fall back asleep,
only to awaken again
the whole process repeating itself
until it is the alarm clock waking me.








i had sleeping problems before, but this is completely different.



i am dealing with my problems well by day. not letting it show. but they haunt me at night. all of them.



and the one person i would normally ask for advice about all this, is the one person that absolutely must not know anything about it. i will not stress my dad with trivial worries about me. he has a lot more important things to think about.

still standing

im still standing

I really expected it to hurt a lot more.

I expected to be shattered on the floor
and left to pick up the pieces myself
and slowly reassemble all the little fragments that were me.




It's not like that.
I feel stronger
braver


mature.

I can now see that I am more emotionally resilient than I ever gave myself credit for

I can be independent and just fine


still strong




still in one piece



still standing

blowing away the puzzle

i can almost feel the pieces of the puzzle of my life blowing away,
everything is about to blow up in my face.


nothing has happened yet, but i can feel a big change,
something that will upset everything.




right when all the pieces are about to fit together,
only 2 pieces left now
both of them about to be put in their place.
but i guarantee it won't be as easy as it seems to place a piece of my puzzle away,
no, that piece is about to blow away,
and the rest of the puzzle will fall to pieces at my feet
so that i can pick it up and start over.



who knows, maybe things will be better at the end?

just a sorry excuse

"you're just a sorry excuse for a best friend"


those words, they cut me like a knife, made my heart skip a beat, made me gasp for breath.


just a sorry excuse?


what else am i just a sorry excuse for?
a best friend
a student
a daughter
a girlfriend
a sister
a niece
a friend
a cousin
a grand daughter


am i just a sorry excuse for a person?


maybe i should stop bothering people, stop trying to be social as anything more than an acquaintance, because after that, apparently, i am just a sorry excuse.

stairs


rooftops