emotional bullshit

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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Run away as fast as you can.

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Music has always been a huge factor in my life. For as long as I can remember. It’s the melody in the arrangements. The words that make up the lyrics in the song. Sometimes it’s the haunting storytelling that finds a way to tug at your heart strings. There’s always that one song. That one song that hits you in the gut and straight into your soul. The more you think you can hide from it, the more it keeps reappearing. That’s how I always felt about “Runaway”. It was always that song I tried to escape from. Its the lyrics that flow freely and become so vulnerable. The tiny glimpse of a soul that infiltrates your reality.

It starts within the first few seconds. The haunting echoing sounds of the keys. A backdrop of emptiness, that pierces through your chest. The more they repeat themselves the more it cuts you inside. One after the after. The same keys, then the drums crash and hit. It becomes this empty chaos. Just when the words start to come into play, you take it all back one last time.

And, I always find somethin’ wrong

The best way to explain situations is to formulate the words and say them yourself. I am not the best person. Some days I feel that I’m the villain in the film of life. I can’t shake that feeling. That desire to find the bad in everything. Just when I think I have it figured out, I can’t help but trash the whole system. I have that tendency to seek comfort in the demons of my life. Reaping the benefits of sorrow and blaming everyone in the process. I can’t help myself. Right when you think everything is okay, you find a way to bring everything down. I am so used to pretending I’m okay and in reality I’m not. Instead of letting wounds heal, I just pour more salt on the healing process. Always finding something wrong.

I’m so gifted at findin’ what I don’t like the most
When your spirit has been brought down so many times, how do you recover from that? How do you get the courage to seek good in bad situations? You build these walls that don’t allow anything to get through. You’re afraid of the emotion, you’re afraid of the consequences, you’re afraid of someone breaking down the walls. I let bad people into my life that have broken my spirit countless times. When you allow people to break you, you begin to break down the good people in your life. The people undeserving of your broken spirit. I can’t help but think of the monster I’ve become toward people. Saying things out of fear of my own demons. The same things that have haunted my life that come out through pure emotional withdraw. I think of all the people that put up with my bullshit and I continue to think of all the times I’ve let them down. Spilling out apologizes comes naturally to me, my only exception is that I actually mean it. Every time I say I will be better, I believe it. Every time I say “I’m sorry”, I believe it. I just don’t know anymore.
Words have a way of haunting you. Sometimes all you want to do is run away from them. Run away from all your problems, from all your emotional bullshit, everything. The revolving door of broken people will always be there. As much as I want to hide from my past, I can’t.  All I can ask is to take my apology and accept my forgiveness. I mean it this time. I mean it more than the first time. I mean it more than the last time. I just couldn’t help myself.
I’m sorry.
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