Wednesday, October 31, 2012



Picking up my pen is the scariest thing I've done in a while. I haven't written in so long, it is almost as though I have forgotten how to do so. I had resolved to end my writing time. After all, it was pointless, no? I'm not very good, and I'm sorry for that. But you see, writing isn't something that one simply chooses to do. One does not write to say something, one writes because they have something to say. Writing stems from a deep desire to share ones heart in hopes that someone else out there might be feeling, thinking, and wondering the same things. Writing is more for the weak than the strong. Writing reveals who you are in the deepest, scariest, most hidden places. And today? Today my heart is full. Today, I feel as though if I gain even a single drop more, I shall completely explode. There are things that have been occurring in my life that I must speak to, regardless of what you may think of me for doing so. They aren't neatly packaged, or always nice and I apologize if I offend you... Actually, no I don't. I don't apologize. This is who I am, and what I think. Take me or leave me.

1. I do not understand the hate that exists in this world. The malice, outright defiance, bitterness... I cannot comprehend it. I am human, and so are you. We are fallible, messy, disasters. If I had to guess, I would way that about 99% of us have made a few poor choices in the past 24 hours alone, correct? Well, that's crappy. And it sucks even worse when people look at you in the midst of your pain and use it to make themselves feel better about their pain. Pain sucks, and it hurts, regardless of how or why it was inflicted. And each of us, as a member of the human race, has a choice of which hand to be. Will you be the hand that reaches through the pain... the hand that says 'here, let me help you up'? Will you be the hand that mends wounds, dusts off, grasps and supports? Or will you be the other hand, the one pushing, holding down, shoving aside? Or will you even use your hands, or let them sit quietly in your lap as you watch the hurt and help without getting involved? That's up to you, love. I just hope you make the right choice.

2. I'm sad. I've been sad for a while. I'm going through a really, really hard season. It's really hard for me to admit to that. I'm lonely. And it's hard, you know? Just difficult. I've always been able to put aside whatever was messy in my life to deal with other people's messes, and then by the time I got back around to mine, it didn't seem so bad. I've been the one that no one really had to worry or think about too much. I was tough. But I feel so weak right now, so fragile. I just want to curl up in a little bitty ball and sleep. I want to disappear for a while. They say it's okay to be human, but I'm not a fan right now. What happens when I can't save myself? What happens if I'm already too far gone to come back this time?

3. I've lost me. I miss me. I miss the happiness, the endless hope. I always saw the best in people, gave a billion second chances. I refused to let tough stuff jade me. I believed in magic. I believed in fairy tales and happy ever after and soul mates and wishes on stars. And now I don't know. I miss smiling for real. I miss knowing that I mattered. I was foolish to let anyone make me believe that such was true. I can't figure out how to believe again. And that scares me.

4. Pooh, you were right, forever really is too good to be true. I used to believe in forever, too.

5. When you have enough people walk out of your life, you realize how imperative it is to not be the one that walks from others.

6. There's this certain kind of sadness that is addictive. And I'm addicted. This twinge of shadow that fringes even the happiest of moments. It happens.

7. I still hate odd numbers. That hasn't changed at least.

8. Maybe I'm supposed to be a writer instead of a real-life-er. Maybe I'm supposed to create stories to fill other people's imaginations, rather than actually live out one. Yeah?

9. I want to run. Have you ever wanted to run away? Just go. Go somewhere that no one will know your name. And there you will be, a clean slate, ready to start over. I want to run today. I want to get into my little car and drive until the sun meets the horizon. I want to go and go until I run out of gas, then get out and walk even further. I want to be something... someone... totally new. I want to be happy. I don't know what I did wrong. I was so happy and now? Now I can't even find that inner childlike joy anymore. Now I just want to sleep. And sleep I shall.

10. I'm existing. A day at a time, but I'm breathing. And getting dressed. And brushing my teeth. So, I call that success. Another chapter closed. I just gotta remember how to turn the page.