just calm down

I have two impulses.

The first is to drink all the vodka I can get my hands on, see you, and demand answers. The questions include everything ranging from “Why?” to “Whywhywhywhywhywhywhy?”

The second is to flee. I don’t mean hide for a little while. I mean drop out of university and move away (again). That sounds very dramatic written down. The truth is, I have been thinking about this for a while, but this feels like that kick I need. Maybe this is that sign everyone talks about - the ‘sign’ that lets a person know when it’s time to make a change.

Every time I think I see you my breath stops sharply and I clench my teeth. That’s it then. The day is ruined. Nothing can distract me. Drink, friends, good food. It’s ridiculous, I know but I’m sunk.

The truth is, I didn’t expect this, and it’s really upsetting. I always fought so hard to keep you out of my life - to forget about you completely, no matter what cost. I understand that that isn’t supposed to work and that it’s not healthy and I know that I will never completely let go of everything that has happened. But, ok. Remember this?

We were both unsure about what was supposed to happen next and all I knew was that I wanted you out of my sight. You were hungry and took me into town for lunch, talking endlessly about the weather and the trees and my neighborhood. I couldn’t say anything. Or I don’t remember what I said. I just know how happy you were. You were so cheerful.

I remember taking three showers that night. And I remember waking up the next morning still sore. I still remember that feeling - waking up still aching from the day before. And part of me still killing myself for my naivety, for thinking: but he’ll always love me! We’ll always love each other! Our love is EPIC and it would CROSS OCEANS and NOTHING WILL TEAR US APART.

And part of me thinks - stop it. This is ridiculous. Over a year ago and it still hurts so much it’s all consuming. Go out there. Do something. Fucking do ANYTHING as long as you get it done.

And another part of me thinks - is this even a choice? do I even know what free will means anymore? 

And most of me just listens to Imogen Heap over and over and over again and wonders where the time goes and how did I grow up so fast.

sharingtime:

This Valentine’s Day I’m going to my local movie theater and buying two tickets to see the movie Valentine’s Day. I’m going to wear a tuxedo, hold a bouquet of roses and have the two tickets very prominently displayed in my hand. I’ll stand outside and act like I’m looking for someone. I’ll look at my watch every thirty seconds.

When it was clear to the onlookers that I’d been stood up, I’ll leave in a huff.

I’d return fifteen minutes later and buy two tickets to Avatar. I’ll be covered head to toe in blue paint, holding an English to Na’vi dictionary and prominently holding two tickets to the movie. I’ll look at my watch every thirty seconds.

When it was clear to the onlookers that I’d been stood up, I’ll fly away on a mountain banshee.

hey. 

i’ve been thinking about you a lot, and i wonder what you remember, or if you remember anything about me.

i think you remember how i made you laugh. i think you remember how i confused you and the old woman who said we looked nice together. i think you remember how i made you feel good about yourself and i made you laugh and i was different from all the other girls you dated but, unfortunately, i just didn’t fuck you enough.

i think that’s what you remember.

i remember months of crying after i left. and days and days of waiting for you. and the time i skipped a concert with my new friends so i could see you, and then you never came, and all the times you said you’d be there - and then you weren’t. 

i mean yes, i can remember the good times, but they aren’t what matter. they aren’t what i took away from those months.

i remember sadness, but what i know now?

i’m so much better than who i was then. i put up with less shit. i have more pride. i demand more of the people in my life. i depend on myself, not you. you might remember the good times, but you’re still the same. 

i changed completely, and i’m glad - because if needing you that much is what it took to realize i don’t need anyone, then i’m happy i went through it, just to be here now.

You can forget about the beauty of a place when you’ve lived there a long time. You go to the same shops, the same gyms, the same clubs. Everything is a blur of grey shingles and traffic lights and cracked roads. Bright skies hanging over dirty buildings, shiny cars in front of manicured lawns. 

You can forget that if you find the right person all the rest of it melts away and it doesn’t matter where you are, because everything is new and everything is right. 

indubitably

Go in for the kill:

I haven’t felt this stupid in a long time, not since last summer, I guess. I mean, I know I deserve to - after all, I was the one who ruined it, that date or non-date, that non-relationship, the “nothing” that you said I had with you. You, with your kind eyes and dirty pick up and rough hands. You’re so uncomfortable around me, but you’re so resolutely yourself, stubborn and immature. I have always been attracted to guys who have that sense of being centred, stable. Sometimes I feel like I might float away or disappear and I feel like you would keep my feet on the ground, like a rock.

I get so nervous around you and I go red. I’m like a kid in the playground, throwing rocks at the boy I like. Bad attention is still attention, right? I want you to smile at me. I want to wipe away that worried look you get when you look at me. 

You want nothing to do with me. Well, you want one thing, what I almost gave you, but I couldn’t because I gave it to him. I mean, I didn’t know it then, of course. Now I realize - of course! He doesn’t like me anymore - I blew that - he likes her. Short and cute and graceful and bubbly whereas I am pretty if you like pale brunettes who don’t talk too much, which you don’t, because you like fixing cars and big tits and drinking until you throw up. 

And I like those things too - well, maybe not throwing up, but I like drinking! - but around you I don’t know how to say that, and my voice goes funny, and you would think I’d never formed a coherent thought in my life, in my whole life, in my life, when in fact you make me want to end every sentence with an exclamation point!

Thinking about all this makes me feel so inadequate. Thinking about you, thinking about her, thinking about him, thinking about him wishing I would disappear, it keeps me up at night. I hate feeling like this. I am eight-fucking-teen, I am an adult. Surely this feeling is meant to be over? and yet here I am, pining over some guy (but he’s different, i swear i swear - the rugged yet intelligent farmer/mechanic!) and feeling stupid and hating myself and wishing I didn’t like food so much so I could be skinnier and wishing my life hadn’t turned into such a complete embarrassment - sometimes I want to tear out my eyes. 

anyway. I wish sometimes you’d call me for something other than sex, that’s all.

blogconfession:

(via mols)