dating

It happened to me.

He says he’ll leave me if I cut my hair.
So I wear it longer on the days I see him.
When all I do is hide behind a curtain of hair to hide every scar I am feeling.

He doesn’t like it when I wear that color. It reminds him of her. So he bans me from wearing it in order to please him. I don’t hesitate. I don’t say no. I just do as I am told. To avoid an argument. To avoid the words that he holds still and strongly behind his tongue.

I am afraid to speak at times. The outcome outweighs the lasting effects of anything I could ever say. I don’t know myself at times. I was a smart girl. I was a strong girl. Now I am letting someone else dictate my thoughts and actions.

I don’t know who I am anymore, I tell myself.
I am not me without you, I say out loud.

It’s not the fists I am afraid of. It’s this unseen power a person can hold over you with the mountain of words that follow. How easy it is to say how you feel and mean what you say. How easy it is to cut down a person without giving it a second thought.

I found myself saying that I’d wish he’d hit me. Something to show the world of the vile person he was. Create the villain among the sinners. All they see is my reactions to every one of his actions. All they see is my skin burning red and my tongue lashing out at everyone that defies me. All they see is my anger and his calm demeanor. Because he was always too cool and too good of a person to hurt people. He was always the cool guy in his nice kicks. He couldn’t hurt a fly they’d tell me. How I wish he’d hit me just to prove them wrong. Just to show them that I was right and they were wrong. Then all these feelings would be real not under the surface.

People always say “That would never happen to me”. I hate that. As they see a girl cover her face or hear a story of a girl who just couldn’t take it anymore. They don’t know what it’s like. They don’t know what it’s like to hide from your friends and family. To pretend your okay when your whole world is falling apart. How it feels to cut your arm in places because the words were too big of a burden to keep to yourself. So you punish yourself for being the sad expectation of who he wanted.

I was the dead weight he refused to carry, he’d often said. If I was skin and bones he would love me more. Hold me tighter. I believed him. I was stupid and I believed him.

I used to say “It would never happen to me“. That I would be one of the lucky ones to fight until my hands were red and my throat was raw. They don’t know that sometimes when a man loves too much they just ignore you. Tell you how worthless you are. How every time they see you it makes them sick. They don’t know how sometimes it’s more than physical. That words have a way of leaving bruises and scars on every inch of your skin. But they’ll never see it. They’ll never know.

They’ll never know that the reason you stopped dating is that you hear his voice in the back of your mind. That nobody will want you after he has had you. That nobody will ever love you as much as he had loved you.

Nobody.

It would never happen to me, they’d say.

But it happened to me.

Tracy, CA. 2015
#ThisishowIletgo

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Tonight.

He was easy to talk too. Someone, I could come home too. Come home from a long day and talk about everything. He carried a charm about him, that I found myself enamored by things he would say. Every minute became easier to be around him.

Could he really be this charming? Or is it all the drinks I am consuming?

I didn’t love him. Maybe, if anything, I had tiny feelings for him. At this point, who don’t I have feelings for. I would have feelings for a lamp post, because it gave me light. But thats just who I am. I love people only to disappoint them in the end. If anything he just made me feel safe. Like I could be honest about everything without judgement. Some part of him would be familiar, as if I had felt these sentiments before. I just couldn’t pinpoint where.

“Stop looking at your phone. Everything you need is right here”

He didn’t mean it condescendingly. Some parts of it is a corny drunken slur. And yet, I believed him.

I don’t want to go home. As dark as it was at the Bar, I could have stayed here for hours. Maybe I did, I can’t remember. I found myself drinking this ache in my chest away. With every sip, I will cut you out of my heart.

Maybe not tonight.
Tonight, let’s just think of something else. Anything else.

With every sip of his beer, his words would slur into something more meaningful then the next.

I didn’t buy it at the time. At the time, I couldn’t think of anyone else but someone else. Someone I should have left in the dust of my memories. Someone I should never have brought with me in my new life here. The same person that made me check my phone dozens of times, instead of realizing “everything you need is right here”.

“That’s not what you’re looking for”
“What am I looking for then?”
“Me”

I could have kissed him right there. In my drunken haze, in this dimly lit bar. I could have.

But I didn’t.

No amount of drinks will rid the person that hurt you out of your heart. No matter how many boys you kiss, its not going to take the taste of his lips away. No matter how many times I cut myself, its never going to get him out from under my skin.

I feel stupid drowning out my sadness with someone else, thinking about someone else.

Everything I need is right here.

And I know better now.

Burbank, CA 2009

 

Thinkin bout you.

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I should have let you go a thousand days ago. Back to where you came from. Back to where you belong. If I close my eyes, I still see you. I still see the same episodes and replay these images as if they had happened yesterday.

Hit replay.
Hit pause.
Start it all over again.

I could never understand how a mind could become emotionally invested in something that isn’t there. Because you don’t see me, when all I do is see you. Why do we have to analyze everything? Why do we have to obsess over all the tiny details? Why do we care so much, when others care so little. If people are not meant to be in our lives, why do we obsess about them at all?

I can’t turn my mind off for the life of me. I replay these images and think about these thoughts, while thinking about you. I know I shouldn’t. It’s all a silly game our minds play that continue to play tricks on us. Because people in my mind are better then they really are in real life. These illusions we play with that pry on our vulnerabilities and existence. I give into it. I let it all go. Knowing very well I should have let you go a thousand days ago.

I am just another girl thinking about, all the insignificant consistencies of bullshit necessesites. I want to pretend that stupid signs mean everything. That everything means something. But it doesn’t. Instead I grow crazy just wondering if its all in my head.

It is.

But I can’t stop thinking about you. And I know I should have let you go a thousand days ago. I know I should have, but I didn’t. Now I drive myself crazy with these thoughts of you. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself. I know I should stop, but I can’t get my mind to stop.

Do you think about me still?

Do you?

What it feels like for a girl.

Don’t think about it.
Don’t think about it.
Whatever you do, do not think about it.

What do I do? Of course, I think about it. It’s in my nature to think of everything. Everything I am afraid of. Everything I am running away from. Everything I said I wouldn’t think about. The more you think about it, the more you won’t be able to let go of it. Here I am thinking of every single detail. Every single insignificant thing, that makes no difference weeks later. I don’t know why I do it, but it’s driving me insane. Replaying moments that happened yesterday and analyzing things to see why I continue to do this to myself.

Do I bring this out of people?
Is there something wrong with me?
Am I really that awkward?

Its these insecurities that get the best of me. I am driving myself insane by overanalyzing everything, I can’t get my mind to stop thinking about. Every single moment is an episode that I can’t help but replay, over and over again. Dissecting words, going over every minor detail, and thinking of new ways to make things seem better. Because every word that comes out is wrong. Every thing I do or say, is always wrong. I can’t help myself. Is it me? Is it you? Is it the whole universe?  Am I just driving myself crazy? How am I suppose to act when I feel like I am tearing everything apart. It’s been so long since I’ve had interaction with people, perhaps I am a little rusty. I find myself fidgeting more than normal and I can’t help but feel even more nervous than before. This is perfectly normally right?

Right?

I am not crazy, but I sure as hell feel crazy. I can’t stop my mind from asking myself:

Did I say something stupid?
Did I say too much, or nothing at all?
Did I do something to make you believe something else?

People have a way of making you feel completely differently than how you normally are. How can I be so guarded when all I want is to tell my stories to everyone? And yet, words comes out like word vomit and I am saying everything that I don’t normally say. I don’t know how to act when I am around you. Have I always been like this? Do I normally act like this? There is always a part of me that believes I will never be good enough. These stupid insecurities that eat a way at my self confidence and drive me absolutely insane. If I had wore something different. If I had said everything I wanted to say. If I had looked a certain way, maybe I would feel less crazy. This is what it feels like for a girl. At least for me, and it’s absolute madness.

NO.
Stop that. None of that matters.

People who want to know you will keep the conversation going. Life may seem like one big popularity contest, but the right people will always find you. No matter what you wear, say, or do. No matter what you do, these little crazy feelings will always follow. We can’t help ourselves. Sometimes things work out, often times they don’t. But when they do, they are worth every moment. You can drive yourself crazy or keep moving forward. I think I will keep moving forward.

 

4/12/2016

Love yourself.

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For all the times that you rain on my parade…

Years go by, and you find yourself still thinking things through. The tiny moments, the big moments, everything and in between. Maybe I never loved you as much as you loved you. That’s fine, I’m good. Thats the thing with memories, we pray to forget and find ourselves starving to remember. Thanks for the memories, but I am not holding on anymore.  Days go by and I realized you loved you, better than anyone else could.

Turn a new leaf, change. Speak about how much you changed because you’re only impressing yourself. You can preach all you want. You can tell every single soul, I was wrong. I don’t care anymore. I don’t. I was crazy. I was the weird one. I was everything you want to tell everyone. Tell them. Your words mean nothing to me. When you look in the mirror you’re gonna realize, you’re just as bad as I am. Maybe worse. At least I have the common decency to admit my faults.  I was wrong. I was stupid, but now I know.

..now I know. I’m better sleeping on my own. 

You’re perfect. You’re better than everyone else. You’re so fucking talented and everyone else is a fucking chump. Well, guess what? Maybe you’re right, but I’d like to think you’re wrong. Even perfect people have flaws and you have them all. Every word you told me will come back to haunt you. Or maybe it won’t. I couldn’t care less any more. I hope you know that one day, you’re gonna need somebody and they won’t be there. Even the people that love you can hurt you. “Sorry” doesn’t change the past, maybe you should know that.

When the song plays out and you’re all alone, I hope my words will find you. The only person you cared enough about was yourself. The only person you could truly love is yourself. That’s fine, that’s good, I’m cool. Now go on, love yourself.

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11/16/2010

What’s wrong baby?

Why are you single?
Why haven’t you dated anyone?
Why aren’t you dating?

So on and so forth.

If I had a nickel for every time I have been asked the above questions. People make it sound so easy. Falling down, dusting yourself off and then trying again. I know everyone means well. At the risk of sounding crazy, I just let people assume what they want to believe. Its easier for people to believe what they want about me, then having to tell them how I really feel. Because how I feel people seldom understand. I feel scared, I feel crazy, and most times I feel completely broken.

Broken in the sense that my past has broken me into a different person. Instead of shaping me into a better version of myself. I find it harder to trust people, because the past has a funny way of coming back to haunt me. When people have hurt you, it takes a while to come back from. I watch how easy it is for my peers to jump from relationship to relationship. Meanwhile, I watch myself still haunted by the past, with it’s broken words and promises. Hurt does that to you. It breaks and bleeds everything you touch. It claws at your insides, until the raw emotion eats at your soul. I was never like this before. I loved this illusion that love gave you. I loved the sappy love songs, the cliche films that remind you what love should look and feel like. I loved this idea of love and the beautiful orchestrated soundtrack it came with. Now I feel like a completely different person. This illusion of love has broken up my insides and rebuilt itself a different person.

How do you tell a stranger you feel broken? How do you describe it in a way that doesn’t scare off the other person? That pieces of you are slowly going back together again, but the pieces have left you shattered and cynical about love. When people ask you the same questions, how do answer truthfully without sounding tragic?

I don’t know where to start. I don’t know how to tell a complete stranger that someone broke me down completely. With words that are still tattooed on the inside of my heart and creep out onto my skin. The past is the past, but how can you be honest with someone, when you can’t be honest with yourself. Some days it hurts like hell and I want to claw every piece of flesh on my body. I want to scream out every obscenity until it doesn’t hurt anymore. Because thats what hurt feels like. Even after six years, the words don’t feel so vividly anymore, but they still haunt me. They’re faint insignificant words that still linger after the smoke has cleared. I know that not every one is like that. I know people won’t hurt me as bad as my past was. Still, it hurts and I can’t pretend that it doesn’t.

I feel as if these fingers continue to point at me, and I haven’t a clue what to say when people ask me why I don’t put myself out there. You might as well just state “What’s wrong with you?“. I don’t know how to answer those questions without being honest. Then at the same time, I have this need to keep guarded about my feelings. Trusting people is hard. Especially when your heart has been through a lot. I don’t know how to start a conversation with a stranger and not feel completely broken. People want the truth. People want you to be open and honest.  I know that. Deep down, I know that. I want to be open. I want to say everything I have in my heart. I want a level of trust to return, where I can feel open to be honest. It’s hard for me to be open. It’s hard for me to say how I feel, and instead I change the subject completely.

I am not asking for anyone to pick up my pieces. I just want people to understand that its not easy. It just takes some time to feel like myself again. If it takes me a day, a month, or a year, I know I will feel like myself again. Some days are easier than others. I am not sure if this answers anyones questions or judgments about me, but here it is. These are my cards on the table. Take it or leave it.

12/7/2015

This is where I leave you.

I leave you by the cracks in the pavement where we said our last goodbyes. When promises were nothing but spoken illusions under starlit skies. I have nothing against you, I just want nothing from you. Because everything you did merits no reply. Everything you said, were nothing but lies.

I watch nostalgia pick you apart. Take you down from your pedestal, piece by piece, and inch by inch. I have nothing left, aside from the memories I have packed for you to take at your will. I don’t need this anymore. I don’t need you anymore. Everything you did was never my fault, but how carelessly I believed otherwise. This is the last time, and this time I mean it.

How carelessly you held my heart, and dangled it in front of me from a string. I wasn’t good enough for my own heart and never good enough for you. I watched you go through your rolodexes of people and never paid no mind to me. And you wonder where this leaves us after all this time? You wonder if after all these years, would I still bother for your time?

I am done and this is my parting note.

This is where I leave you. I leave you with this goodbye.

11/5/2010

Closer.

Don’t come any closer.

Don’t treat me like the others. I know all the things you only tell girls in the dark. I know every single one of your deep dark secrets and everything you want us to believe. You’ll deny it. Tell me, I am the crazy one. I know you never mean it. Everything you say is just actions from your reactions. You never mean all the nasty things you say. A sorry from you are just words wasting space in my memory. “I’m sorry” sounds like a tragic song that has no ending. I want to believe you, believe me I do, because deep down you mean it. Its what you tell all the other girls. All the other girls that believe you when you cry and mean every word you say.

Don’t say another word.

I could recite your lines, word for word. These never ending monologues of right and wrong, saint and savior. Every single thing you tell girls in the dark. It would only be fair if I told everyone how you felt. Told them all your secrets and spilled out all your lies. All those things you only tell girls in the dark. Hurting you would show that maybe for once you could feel something other than nothing.  Something other than the hatred that you bring out of everyone.

Don’t touch me.

You crave the warmth of a body to lay beside you. It doesn’t matter who it is. Someone to fill the void of being alone with your thoughts and your cold black heart. You can never be alone. It paralyzes you to think of spending all these waking days alone. Keeping us under lock and key and heavy retainer. Break in case of emergency. Have I said too much? Or should I just keep going.

Telling all these secrets to people that think they know you. They’ll be next and what follows is someone after. There’s always someone else. Brighter, better, and stronger. Always someone else. A line of pretty girls that you only like in the dark. I won’t be one of them. Not tonight, not ever.

2/11/2007

 

Someone else.

We all want what we can’t have. People that don’t deserve us. People that we don’t deserve. Anyone, anything, and all of the above. If I could be anyone else, I would. Anyone then what you see before you. Even good people want to be bad. Good people want all the characteristics of a good time. Tracing our fingertips on the brink of madness. Wanting to take away all our sadness. Anything with anyone different then what we are used too.

I hear music when I should be hearing you. Listening to the sounds take over the words that come out of your mouth. Even if I see you, I always want someone else. Even if you give me everything I want, I want something more. And I don’t deserve any of it. I am pretending to be what you want me to be, because even you want something you can’t forget. I don’t want you, for I am always pretending you’re someone else. Someone that can take me away from this lonely sense of feeling. Become the music that drags me out of my body and beats into my soul. You’ll always be someone else, someone that I would rather see. Someone that I could spend all these lonely nights and take away this aching pain.

You’re the distraction that gives me what I want, when I want it. Even in the nights when I am reaching out to you, its someone else I am reaching out to touch. We all want what we can’t have. We all pretend to be people we want to who ever will see us. If you want me to pretend to be someone else, I will. Because being someone else is easier than being who I really am. Because deep down I am rotten, deep down I am broken but with you, I can be who ever you want me to be. You don’t see me, you only see what I want you to see. Someone else that makes you feel free. Someone that fills the space until you get everything you want, from everyone you want.

You don’t really want me. You want this illusion of me. This belief that one day you could learn to love me. Hear my words and fall in love all over again. It’s never me you want. That is never who I am. What you want and what you have, are never the same thing. Because I want someone and settle for you. I want something and pretend with you. But even I can play that game too. Everybody wants everybody else. You want me as much as I think I need you. I never need you. I’ll always be wanting someone else.

4/11/2011