broken

Photograph.

I want to leave a piece of myself in every place that I go. In oceans, in woods, in big cities many people call home. Roam the earth and haunt the streets. Kiss a thousand strangers and leave my feet firmly planted on the ground. Beneath the streetlights that illuminate night skies. Where nothing feels as broken as you feel. Where everything feels like a completely new beginning and experience.  Leave pieces of myself in everyone that has left ghosts of their former selves with me.

Nostalgia, why do you continue to let me down? Letting me believe that photographs are what is left of our memories of the past. That something so simple is left time stamped in a photographic memory. The sooner the years pass, the sooner we leave our memories behind us. Deep rooted in the ghost towns of our minds, where words are never spoken but constantly replayed melodies form instead. I watch the cities that I love, continue to sky rocket and change with the times. Meanwhile, I watch the town I grew up in flourish then turn to dust. I watch the ghosts of my past fill the empty spaces with open arms and hollow expectations.

All these photographs I keep of people long forgotten in stories I can only tell myself. Of cities larger than my hometown. Of boys that played games with my heart that turned into men that always broke my heart. Photographs scattered and framed in a million places waiting for a retelling of a nostalgic fairy tale. Friendships that would last forever, until we grew up and become the opposite of what we were afraid of. A piece of me in every frame of the photographs that keep hidden in my memory. It’s the only place I don’t feel alone, it’s the only place I don’t feel broken.

Let me leave these pieces of me in everywhere I go.

Wouldn’t that be nice?

12/20/2010

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8/27/2015 – Day Thirteen.

I was suppose to go home today.

Home.

Back to reality. Back to my house, my room, my car, my friends and my family. It’s weird how I always put friends before family, when at times I don’t feel as if I have any left. We are all so busy living and finding ourselves, right? It’s easy to say “I miss you” and wonder how many believe that sentiment. Those are just my thoughts on the subject, its not like anyone is listening anyway.

I was suppose to go home today. Return, board a plane and jump back into what I should be doing. Instead of living within the clouds, high in the hills. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t pack my things and ask myself if I was fine. Instead I changed my flight and stayed a few more days. I could have easily sulked and returned home to my hometown. Back where I belong. With the same faces, different circumstances. Something inside of me wasn’t ready yet. The more I thought about packing my bags and returning home, the more anxious I become. I am alienating a world of people and the longer I stay here, the longer I don’t have to answer to anyone. Because nothing is wrong with me.

I am okay. I am okay. I swear.

What if I missed something when I am here. What if everything I am searching for is closer than I think. I am tired of thinking about things, I should be doing. Why can’t I focus on nothing and expect everything? The weather is changing today. Cooler skies make colder mornings. The skin I once exposed has been covered from head to toe. I wonder if people can see my depressed state. See you’re hurting deep within your soul. If they can see it through your fake facade of happiness or feel it whisper to them when no one hears you.  The marks I hide on my face and my arms and I wonder if scabs heal faster than scars. The clouds are coming in. I am sitting in empty rooms on empty chairs, going over things in my empty mind. Listening to songs, where the melody flows through my ears and out the other. Words are words, that continue to be wrapped up in melody. The more I pick at my scabs the more exposed my scars are. I distract myself to combat the sadness. I read stories about broken girls that want to be put back together again. I sit alone and wonder to myself, if I still feel broken. If I still feel the need to put myself back together again.

Is this how I put myself back together again? Reading books of broken girls that just want to be whole again? I sit in empty rooms on empty chairs and read stories of girls who feel empty inside. I don’t feel that way. Not in the least. Not at this moment.

 

Fix you.

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Days come and days go. There are people you remember and people you want to forget. You keep the memories of the past closely guarded around your heart. There are times you wish you truly could let go, let go with every broken way you possibly could. When life happens to hurt more than it should, you retreat back into your broken shell. Back to every broken memory you could possibly think of.

We are all broken battered people. People so broken with life that not even a single light could guide us home. We beg to the skies to make everything better. To give us just a better way to fall gracefully. We can’t help but feel the way we do. We want to be fixed of our broken wings and nursed back to good health. We want our shattered pieces to be pieced back together, ever so gently. Anything to cure us from our brokenness and broken ways.

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No matter what I do I am drawn to the broken ones. The people so broken by life that nothing seems to get through to them. Its the broken ones that need the most help. The most love out of all of us. No matter what I do, I can’t escape them. They’re drawn to me, and I can’t help but want to help them. Be there for them. Fix the broken parts and find a way to get through to them. I want to put a bandaid around all the cuts. I want to glue together all the broken shattered parts. I want to dry all the tears and make everything feel better.

But I can’t.

The more I try to fix a broken person the more it hurts. The more I try to piece back together someone, the more I find myself falling apart. I take all the broken pieces from everyone else and cut them deep inside of me. After all the broken ones are fixed they latch on to the light of someone else. All I am left is the remains of the broken hearted shattered pieces. Its when the broken ones have gone to live their lives, that I am left wondering what to do with mine. When do I get someone to save me from my broken self? When do I get a chance to patch up all the cuts and glue together all the shattered strands?

But I want to fix you. I want to guide the light to light your path to find what you’re looking for. Patch up all your broken bones and guide you home. Take every pain you feel and make it my own. Only then would you understand that I feel exactly as you do. That even the ones that stand tall, feel broken too. Every inch of my heart is broken but to take away my broken pride, I want to fix you. I want to help and cure and mend, every sense of the brokenness. But I can’t. The more I think I am helping, the more I make it worse.

Sometimes I need fixing too. Sometimes I need a light to steer me in the right direction. Need someone to pick up all my broken pieces and glue them back together. Seldom do I find a person that will help guide me through. Instead of helping all the broken ones, I should start with my own broken self. I can’t fix you, as much as I wish I could. I can’t put back together all the broken strands of pieces and make you whole again. I need to fix myself before I can think of fixing you. I need to help myself before I can help someone else who thinks they need me too. It’s only after I help myself that I can ever think of fixing you. But I could never fix you. You need to look into your broken heart and let the pieces fall back together on their own. Stop searching for people to help you from your broken shell. Because even the people that are helping you, can’t help but be broken too.

And I feel more broken then I am suppose to feel. I just wish I could find a way to fix you by fixing myself too.

2/16/2012

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What kind of man.

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You held on for as long as you needed to. Leaving all the broken pieces shattered around you. This was how you loved, this was how you expressed yourself. Breaking everything in your path that didn’t need to be broken. You were far to broken to concern yourself with decaying corpses. Still you sucked the life out of every living breathing thing, consuming yourself with the living instead of fixing up your own broken path. These were your paths and your stories. Your lives with the lies that you told to make everything whole again.

You do such damage, how do you manage?
Tryna crawl in back for more

You loved too many and you loved too much. All your mistakes transferred to every single one of those broken pieces you left scattered behind. Who was to blame for your mass destruction and chaos that lay beneath you feet. Who was to blame when you loved too much and left the lifeless to fend for themselves. The glass hearts of everyone that stood in your way, shattered and scattered once you let go. You were good with letting go just when you needed too. Just enough time to live, love, and forget everything. This was how you lived and how you loved. How you broke apart every living vessel and left the corpses of broken people behind. This was how you said you loved everything until you took everything you wanted. If this is how you love, just take it back. Take everything you said back because no man could ever hurt to the point of breaking someone.

What kind of man loves like this

I was left to fend for myself and pick up all the pieces you left behind. Because it was you that said you loved but held on just when you needed to. Letting go and watching my lifeless corpse cross the channels to find you again. Swimming through the broken shattered pieces and cutting myself deep just to reach you. I bled, I fought and I cried every fucking time because this was how you loved. My own foolish broken heart didn’t know any better but to pick up the pieces and reach you again. There you dangled my lifeless corpse and started this mess all over again. I am lifeless, I am hurt, and more than anything I am scatterbrained and broken to the touch. I watched you with a noble heart, hoping that you’d come back to find me. I sat broken in disbelief and wished that you’d see through to my broken soul.

Storms pass then you see a clearing. Somewhere along the way we watch a part of ourselves reconstruct and rebuild ourselves. Stronger, better than before. You may have broke me but you never will again. You may have loved me but you never will again. No man should every hurt the ones they love. No man should ever break the paths of broken people. What kind of man loves like this, is the kind of man that will always be broken.

You will not break me again.

9/15/2012

 

Before they turn the lights out.

There’s always a moment where your life seems to change. You don’t believe it at first. Maybe after all the years of being in darkness, you finally get a glimpse of the light. Anything to break you from this broken feeling of yesterday. It happens in an instant and before you know it, something inside of you clicks. In a moment it changes. In that moment you don’t want to disappear you just want to draw yourself closer to the light. It sounds crazy but the moment you feel it, is the moment that your world opens up differently.

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There was always this part of me that wanted to believe this broken feeling would last forever. That I would use this feeling as a badge of honor, that I lived through the bullshit of prior relationships. People always said that one day it would be over and still I refused to believe it. When you’re ready, you will know it. You will feel it in your bones and the past will just be a memory. I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to live in this bitterness and hopelessness. Just use every aspect of this hurt to shield away every part of myself. They say when you know, you’ll know. It’ll hit you when you least expect it. Hit you straight into your heart and flow through your blood stream. I knew it the moment you stepped into the room. It was at that moment that everything I felt from the past disappeared. In the moment that I saw you, I knew that everything was going to change. Even if it was just for a moment.

We don’t have forever
Ooh, baby daylight’s wasting

I didn’t have to know you, but for a moment I knew everything about you. In some cosmic soul racing against time, I knew everything. There are moments you want to capture in slow motion and I found myself doing just that. It wasn’t love, it wasn’t a crush, but it was something. If there was a way to explain it, I would formulate the words to describe that night. Sadly, I can’t. Just as easy as night falls the day light started coming up. We could have wished for more time, took more time to see things as we saw them. It would have ruined the moment. It would have taken apart every first to last look and time would have ran away faster. I couldn’t blame feelings on the drinks, I couldn’t blame how I felt on the bewitching lights of the city. For that moment I forgot what it was like to feel broken. Forgot who I had been before for a chance to change it all around for the night. All of my mistakes of yesterday vanished the moment I locked eyes with someone completely different from my past.

Emotions change over time. People we think we are in the night are different once the lights come back. As we hide our shells in the dark, turning the lights out only made it easier to hide ourselves. I’d be selfish to ask for something out of nothing. I’d be crazy to think that what I felt was love or anything like it. For the first time, I didn’t cry when songs came on. I didn’t remember the past scars and placements they held on my skin. It was in that one moment, I felt something change. All the bricks that had been thrown onto my heart, were finally coming down. Through the crowds of people, I finally saw someone as I wanted to see myself. In that brief moment, anything was possible. I’d be a fool to say that it would last forever. I knew it we were just moments away from the lights coming back on. Moments away from reality and our dreams turning to dust.

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I’d like to believe somewhere between the streets, that our souls are running through the sidewalks and in between the streets. That our souls found a way to be trapped in the night beneath the lights. Everything was darker and brighter with the street lights and the stars. Emotionally dimming in their own night settings. I’d give anything to return to that moment. Moments that seemed to last forever and trapped in a time and place. But as most things vanish, you did just the same. Just as the lights went out. Thats how life happens, bringing people to help you place the last fragments of your broken pieces into place. Its what you did and for that I could never feel anything more than I felt that night.

Before they turn the lights out.

9/6/2013

Girl on Fire.

If you cut my wings, I’ll only bleed. I will stay close to the ground in the ashes of the fire, that you burn before me. You will break my heart but I will not be broken. You cannot break me. I will not be weak for your affection nor attention. I will not be defeated. I’ll bleed in the aftermath of the fire but I will not burn. I refuse to burn for your amusement. I’ll bleed through your battles but will win the war. I have been down this road too many times before. The rivers will bleed in the bloods of my sorrow but my strength will see me through.

So bright, she can burn your eyes, Better look the other way

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Do not mistake my kindness for weakness. I will cry, I will break, but I refuse to burn. It’s the ashes of the fires that will see me through. You cannot hurt me for I will rise above this. Your words are your fists to plummet me to the ground, but you will not come up victorious. You use your words to break me but I will not be broken. I will break to bleed but you will not cut my wings. You cannot hurt my wounded soul with the words of your grief and sorrow. You will not hurt me no more. I may be black and blue but you will not defeat me. I will not be defeated.

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I will watch the flames you throw at me burn, but I am untouchable. For the flames turn to ashes that I will rise above. Through the ashes I will see this through. I am not afraid of you. I dust the ashes from my skin and watch myself overcome these wounds. My cuts they bleed and scab but soon they heal. I am on the mend from this bloody mess that you put me through. You cannot clip my wings. You cannot hurt this wounded vessel that once burned for you. Black and blue and bleeding through. Fighting fire with fire will only burn you. You will not hurt me anymore. I bind you in your misery and misfortune, you will not touch me. I refuse to let you hurt me. It’s my wings that I use to fly far from you. From this mess, this hurt, this pain. I will not burn. I will bleed, I will scab, but I will not burn. Not for you. Not for anyone. If you cut my wings, I’ll only bleed but you cannot defeat me.

I will not be defeated.

She’s just a girl, and she’s on fire

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Let’s Go Oakland.

This post is dedicated to two very important people in my life: Hilda Tateosian & Lillian Rankins. It is with your patience, passion and twisted sense of humor that rekindled my love of baseball. Never have I met two people with such great enthusiasm for the sport of baseball then these two remarkable ladies. Thank you for reminding me the true value of friendship and for opening my eyes to the wonderful world of baseball. ❤

Thank you to the Oakland Athletics for reminding me that the underdog eventually gets the win.

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“That’s baseball, and it’s my game. Y’ know, you take your worries to the game, and you leave ’em there. You yell like crazy for your guys. It’s good for your lungs, gives you a lift, and nobody calls the cops.”-Humphrey Bogart

Passion comes to you when you least expect it. When all hope is lost and the only thing you have left is your undying devotion to something bigger than yourself. When I told people 3 years ago that I wanted to get into baseball, people thought I was batshit crazy. Actually people thought the only thing I cared about at that point was spending money, unnecessary pop culture references, and a caffeine addiction to Starbucks. Of course I was crazy. Of course I find ways to become obsessed with something to the brink of insanity, but baseball? Really?

The only thing I ever knew about baseball was the countless films about the sport. From The Sandlot to Major League and even the recent Moneyball, how could you not be romantic about baseball? The films with their witty one-liners, dramatic scores and yes even dreamboat casting, made baseball one of the best sports on film. What the films don’t tell you is watching the sport live, you needed countless consumptions of alcohol. I’ll be brutally honest, 3 years ago baseball was boring. So boring that I needed alcohol to get through a few games of the sport. I just didn’t understand it, I didn’t have the patience for the it, and I just didn’t care. Of course I always had my favorite team but I couldn’t name a player to save my life. I couldn’t even tell you the starting line up for that current day. But if you wanted to know what I wore to the game I would tell you (American apparel hoodie, vans slip-ons, Marc Jacobs sunglasses). It just wasn’t for me.

Truth of the matter is I have been genetically programmed to love Bay Area sports. Maybe it’s my Dad’s deep alliance to the Coliseum but to him no other teams compared to the Oakland Athletics and the Oakland Raiders. Of course its the nostalgic value of his countless work of improving the Coliseum, his signature practically all over the stadium but to him at one point the Coliseum was a mecca of his work.  To hear him recount his stories of the Coliseum game days are just a who’s who of the 70’s and 80’s. It was a no brainer to know that my own alliance would also be Oakland rooted. While my Dad’s stance on Bay Area sports has changed over the years, I still can’t forget how proud he was about working there. Being in that atmosphere he never matched anywhere else.

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2012 was a game changer for me. I was physically and emotionally drained from work. I was surrounding myself with terrible people. I was just being absolutely hurtful to myself. It was just this never ending cycle of destruction, I couldn’t get out of. I was unhappy with myself, my surroundings and worse of all I was unhappy with life. I just couldn’t catch a break with anything I was doing. However a chance meeting with an old friend to do a stadium tour of AT&T Park, changed everything. For the first time in my life I was doing something without the judgment of other people. I was with good people that for once didn’t make me doubt anything I was doing. More importantly I was planting the seed of falling in love with a sport I only knew about through films and my diehard fanatic friends. Maybe I was crazy but at that point in my life I had nothing to lose.

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The thing about film is while beautifully cinematic, they don’t tell you everything. Sure they paint a beautiful portrait of a sport but they don’t tell you what it’s like to set foot in a ball park. They don’t prepare you for the thousands of screaming diehard fans. They don’t prepare you for how different your day changes from the moment you walk into the park to the moment you walk out. I had been to AT&T park before. I’ve probably even slurred my way down the stairs and to the parking lot. To walk the front gates of the beautiful ball park on an off season and roam the halls where people of all walks of life have walked is truly magical. I wanted to feel the feeling all over again. The feeling of security and warmth of life that you can only get from a ball park. I wanted that feeling for myself from my own favorite team. More importantly I wanted that feeling sober.

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You realize your life is about to change when things in your life happen in three’s. A little bit after that tour I ended a 25 year friendship, my job of over 3 years let me go, and on top of that I realized that my countless years of food problems made me develop an eating disorder. I needed something to get me out of this mess. Something to distract me from the bullshit of my life. With a pact I made with a new friend and endless amounts of free time, started my love of baseball.

Of course people ask me why Oakland? What is it about Oakland that does is it for you? Of course I could tell you it’s my deep alliance to all things Oakland. That it’s this huge nostalgic value for me, because it’s where my Dad worked and loved. I’d be lying. Truth is it was more deep rooted then that. They say you when you fall in love all you can ever see is the person you’re in love with. The whole world stops around you and the only thing that exists is you and this other being. When you walk back into life after a lifetime of being clouded with self doubt and misery you miss everything that’s surrounding you. The moment I walked back into the Coliseum, I felt the Coliseum. Something I never felt after countless drunken tailgates, after countless times I dragged my feet behind me to my seat. For the first time I walked in sober and into the heartbeat of that stadium. It was in that moment that I walked through Gate D that any self doubt I felt I left in the parking lot. The moment I took those steps into the Coliseum and started to see the hustle of people, it finally made sense. In that moment of walking up to the WELCOME sign, I knew for the first time I was home.
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It wasn’t just about the Coliseum that did it for me. It was the people. The atmosphere. Of course it was the team itself. A team of mismatched broken parts that somehow defied the odds against them. They weren’t a perfect team. They didn’t have any big name players that the Yankees or Red Sox have. They didn’t even have the payroll to pay for the big named players. They didn’t have anything except a undying love of the game and the mantra of proving people wrong. It didn’t matter how many games they won, they would constantly be bashed for the countless games they’ve lost. They were their own worst critics but the unconditional love of the game and countless support of their fans always reign supreme. That’s what made me fall in love with this team. They were an absolutely mental team that cared more about playing the game by their standards as a team then anything else.

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I could relate to that. A team that felt broken and just a complete joke to people. I could full heartedly relate to that. Mainly because people have shut the door in my face countless times. Because people have treated me as the misfit on numerous occasions. Because everyone cast me aside on numerous occasions. Time after time I have gotten myself out of dark situations to prove countless people wrong. It didn’t matter. No matter how many accomplishments I have its never good enough. I am never good enough. Finally it all made sense under the dark confides of concrete and the rush of a thousand chants. None of that mattered being in the ballpark. Every game just like every day was a chance to turn your fate around. With every loss comes a win, and with every win comes a few victories. Some more triumphant than others. That’s what made me fall in love with something bigger than I could ever imagine. With every game I went to nothing matched the love I felt going into the Coliseum. For every game I went to a piece of myself slowly came back together. It was bigger than hearing my favorite song sung by my favorite band. It was bigger than seeing my favorite film. It was seeing my life finally come together and banding together with other great people.

These past seasons have been nothing but a learning experience. I can’t help but soak it all in. The people, the places, and even all the things that happen. To the countless people I have dragged with me to the games that in turn learned to love my team just as I love them. I only want to show everyone what its like to feel exactly how I felt on my return to the Coliseum. That heartbeat, that passion and even that love that you only get from people that truly understand what you’re feeling. If I could show everyone what love is, it’s going out to the ball park and rooting for your favorite team. It’s bullshitting with the people in the crowds and knowing exactly how they are feeling. It’s leaving everything your feeling out of the gates of the stadium and walking out a different person.

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Baseball brought back a passion I thought I had forgotten. It brought back so many elements of hope that I didn’t think were possible. It finally gave me something to root for. Something to put my mind back at ease and something to love again. Something I never would have thought possible if I didn’t take that chance to rekindle a friendship with an old friend. Something I never thought possible if I didn’t take a chance on making new friends. It was through this twist of fate that made realize that at the end of the day there really are good people in this world. People you would have never imagined who could have impacted your life in so many ways.

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People are always going to judge you no matter what you do. It doesn’t matter how many accomplishments you make, your past will always haunt you. As with most things in life you have to learn to roll with the punches. Realize that at the end of every day there’s a day to turn it all around. Just as a season comes to an end there’s always the hope for the upcoming season to change it all around.

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People are always going to call me crazy for loving this team. For going into the broken mass of concrete that is the Coliseum. Maybe I am crazy. But you know what? So are all the fans that go into the Coliseum hoping for a miracle. We are as mental as the misfit team of broken parts that still believe there is magic in Oakland.  I could give a rats ass about what anyone has to say about that. This is my home, this is my team, and more importantly, I will never stop rooting for you Oakland.

LET’S GO OAKLAND

Broken.

This post has actually been a little hard to write into words. I’ve actually deleted, rewrote, deleted, and tried to wrap my head around everything. For a long time I felt broken, that no matter what I did nothing would take away that feeling. It was always about rearranging the pieces instead of putting them back together. Instead of finding ways to make myself better, I ended up just making things worse. When you’re broken you will do just about anything to make yourself whole. Even if it takes everything you have to make that emptiness you feel inside disappear. Without realizing it, I was attracting all the darkness because I believed that’s what I deserved. When you’ve reached rock bottom the only thing left to do is to wallow in the shadows until you’re strong enough to overcome it.

Being heartbroken is worse than any loneliness. I think that’s why so many of us stay in some fucked up relationships. Being sad and unhappy in a relationship is far better than ever being lonely. At least then you have a reason to be unhappy. When you’re alone, you’re left with your own failures. I never believed that would happen to me. The hopeless romantic that cried at the end of every love song, that believed that at the end of the day love will overcome everything. It’s weird to look back at the past and think “How could I have been so stupid”. That’s what I was. I was stupid, hopeless, and a complete fool for love. I believed that being unhappy would eventually lead to happiness. That for every dollar I spent, for every shopping bag full of stuff that I would feel better. Instead I felt more alone and miserable. In the mist of my own self absorbed sadness, he found me and I believed it would all disappear. It’s funny how people have a way of changing something inside of you. He didn’t make me feel better, he only made things worse.

Its weird how you can always remember the worst of people. After 5 years, I stopped remembering if he was ever a good person to begin with. 5 years ago he was my absolute world. I found everything about him just absolutely fascinating.  It was his manner of viewing the world and how he presented himself to everyone that made me believe for a long time that I loved him. The moment you make someone the center of your universe is the same moment they absolutely let you down. Just as the many people before him, he didn’t care about me. To him I was just someone that filled the void until something better came along, and for 5 years I allowed him to treat me that way. I allowed his own insecure nature manifest its vileness into my well being. Because of my lack of judgment and inability to see what was happening, I allowed him to treat me in the most horrible way. For years I allowed him to break my spirit all for the sake of believing that was love. For every time he cut me down, I hurt myself. For every time he told me I was worthless, I believed him. I believed him until my arms were raw and my stomach bled from the countless times I threw up my food to make myself what he wanted me to be. To him I was nothing, and to me he was everything. When you’re broken you want to believe that people want the absolute best for you. For the longest time I believed that’s what he wanted.

There were so many aspects of that “relationship” that were bad. So many things I hid from the world because no one would believe me. I was already an emotional person that even if I mentioned how bad it got people wouldn’t believe me. He had a way to switch on/off his flaws, I couldn’t do that. There were moments that would get so bad I honestly wished he would hit me. If he hit me it would mean that he truly hated me and it wouldn’t just be words that I kept inside. He never did but that never stopped his crusade of a venomous character. For every joke he told people, I lived with the consequences. I was never good enough, I was always too fat, too ugly, and I was a dead weight that was too large to carry in his lifetime. He never cared about how the words would affect me. He only cared about how much I would invest in what we were doing and how much he was gaining from it. As soon as his demands were met, only then could we honestly be together. I was a fool to believe him, but believing that being in a relationship would make the pain go away I did everything he said. I paid for every outing, paid for ever dinner, and took care of everything. In the course of those 5 years of an off and on friendship the only thing he ever gave me was a small soda and enough psychological damage to last a lifetime. For years I dealt with the consequences of that “relationship”. The countless of my friends that still remain friends with him, the times he contacted me when ever he felt broken, and yet I allowed it. I allowed this cycle of complete destruction stay because I deserved it. It was my insecurities that were driving a wedge between our friendship. It was all my unhappiness undoing our friendship and he was just trying to make everything better.

I believed that.

5 years was my expiration date. The first year I blamed myself. I thought without him I would die. That everything he said was right and because of that I blamed myself for everything. The second year I believed he would come back. By the third year I was finally coming to terms that I drove him away because he made no mistaken that it was everything I did that was wrong. By the fourth year, I was done. The fourth year was finally letting go of being broken. Finally realizing that I needed to let go of everyone and anyone that made me hurt. I was physically and emotionally exhausted from all my self destructive nature. I wanted nothing more but to finally feel free, to finally feel something instead of the complete emptiness I felt inside. For the first time I was able to hold my meals down without worrying about if people knew what I was doing. I was able to finally let the wounds heal and scar naturally. When you finally let go of all the wrong people, you finally allow yourself to heal properly.  Now at the fifth year I can breathe. I still have a lot of my insecurities but for the first time I don’t feel broken. I lost so much of myself searching for his level of perfection, I lost sight of who I was. When I finally let him go, I finally allowed all my broken pieces come back together.

You’re wondering what this has to do with my problems with debts. This had everything to do with it. I was so completely heartbroken that I found myself running from one problem to another. For every pound I lost I spent more money. For every time I didn’t want people to know about my well being, I invited people out and paid for everything. If I drew the attention away from what was really hurting, I wouldn’t have people worry about me. Because of my self destructive nature, I invited a variety of vile people into my life. I was ashamed to say I needed help and I was scared of people finding out what truly was happening. It was easy to pretend that behind every fabulous coat hid a tragic story. That every article of clothing I wore was a battle I was overcoming. I was hurting emotionally and physically and the only way to hide how I felt was buying everything. For every year he came in and out of my life, I found some way to try to make him stay. Every time he left, the cycle of self destruction would happen all over again. I couldn’t help the pain I was feeling so I had to find ways to deal with the sadness and failure of my life. I didn’t care how much it cost me, I just wanted a cheap fix for all my situations. I was wrong. I was wrong for so many reasons.

Our ending was the start of my new beginning. For the first time in years I stopped crying because he wasn’t in my life. While it’s taken everything I have to finally come to terms with what happened, I no longer break because of it. No amount of money I spend will ever bring anyone back. All of the sparkly things I buy is not going to make anyone stay. I know that now. If I could be honest about anything, is finally being honest with what happened. What we had wasn’t love. I was just so tired of being lonely that my desperation for love found the wrong person. For the risk of failing as I had with countless things in my life, I tried to make everything work even if that meant sacrificing my own happiness. To him he never saw my attempts as kindness, to him my kindness was my weakness that he used to his full advantage. I allowed him to do that. I allowed him to dictate my life the moment he said he only wanted what was best for me. I know better now, I know that people that vile will never hurt me again. As much as it all hurt, as many tears that I cried I know he was not the one for me. It’s funny how things change us. I am not the same person I was a year ago, let alone 5 years ago and I’m okay with that. Everything that once broke my heart doesn’t hold the same meaning as it once did. Its when you’ve lost everything that you finally regain the strength back in the light. I’ve stopped hurting, I’ve stopped blaming myself and best of all I can finally be honest with everything in my past to finally be free.

Through it all, I can live with that.