To My Future Forever Boy.

Wow, it’s crazy to think that I have spent years wishing that I could just meet you already.

Maybe I have, but maybe neither of us has realized we’re meant to be together yet.

I just want to say thank you in advance for putting up with my crazy self. I’m not easy to love, but I am most definitely worth it.

Like most people, I have been through a lot of things. I don’t open up or trust easily, so please patient with me.

I don’t mean to push you away, I’m just always scared of getting hurt. So many people have left me. These days, I sort of just suspect it.

Thank you for praying with me. This means so much that you’ll take the time out of your day and pray for my family, our lives, and everyone that needs help.

This is a big deal to me that my husband has similar beliefs to me. So thank you.

It’s crazy to think that maybe in two years or maybe in ten, we will be together, learning each other as the days go by.

 I am not trying to rush to find you, I am simply just excited for when that day comes.

I promise I will always love you and keep you close.

I will never purposely hurt you and I will never leave your side when things get rough. I won’t lie to you or treat you badly.

I will always make sure your happy, and do whatever it takes to cheer you up when you’re not. I promise to always be your best friend.

So thank you for being my person.

Advertisements

To My Grandfather.

I think about you constantly.

I wonder what life would be like if you were still here. I imagine all of the things you’d say. I imagine all of the different adventures we would have gone on.

I wonder who I would be if you were here. I wonder what we would all be like. I think about all of the different ways things would’ve turned out with you in our lives.

I miss you all the time. I miss you so much that my heart hurts. My heart literally clenches tightly when I think of you, as though it’s trying to hold itself together while my thoughts try and tear it apart.

Time is supposed to heal all wounds but, it seems as though time just provided me with a band-aid that gets old and falls off more often than not.

I know you’d hate it, but I still cry for you. I still sit up at night and wish that you were here. I still talk to you and ask you for advice.

I can’t help but want you here. Life has moved on but my heart and emotions haven’t. I can’t move on.

I have your picture everywhere. I think it’s because I’m afraid that one day I’ll forget your face.

God… I hope that never happens.

I still remember your voice. I remember things you said, but it’s been so long that your voice is starting to fade from memory.

I refuse to let you fade completely.

I won’t do that to myself. You are the memory that I cling to when things get bad. You are the hope I hold onto when things get dark.

I need you, and your memory is all I have left. So, I’ll keep it alive for you.

I will carry you in my heart wherever I go in life. I will petition God to have you as my guardian angel if that’s what it takes to keep you with me. 

I know that you are up there watching me. I know you look down and keep guard over me.

I can only hope that I’m making you proud. I can only hope that I’m what you imagined I’d be in life. I can only hope that you’re smiling at me and not up there shaking your head.

I won’t hope that you miss me as much as I miss you, because missing you is painful. Missing someone is too painful for Heaven to allow inside its gates. It’s too painful for me to wish on anyone, especially you.

I love you.

And I miss you more than you’ll ever realize.

I’m Sorry I acted Crazy While You Treated Me Like Shit.

Let me just start this by saying I am so sorry I acted so crazy; I don’t know what got into me. At first, I thought maybe it was because you treated me like shit all the time, but then I thought “No way! It’s gotta be me.” And I am so, so sorry for ever assuming otherwise.

It’s probably because I’m just a crazy girl with a crazy hormonal brain that processes information and reacts to it. Like remember that time when I asked you not to make comments about my appearance and then you did and I got super upset? That was so out of line of me to have a feeling and I should have a thicker skin. I was out of line and I really hope you’re able to forgive me for that.

And I should apologize for the time I really went off after I saw you flirting with those girls, you know, the ones you exchanged numbers with on Facebook and told them you were missing them? No, not that girl, the other girl. You know, the one who you said was prettier than me? How insane was I to be upset by you accidentally blatantly disrespecting me in front of my face? Obviously you weren’t doing anything wrong on purpose! Silly me, what a psycho! I’m genuinely surprised you haven’t locked me up on a funny farm yet the way I fly off the handle!

I have to reiterate that I am really sorry.

And remember that time I had a feeling about the way the things you did affected me?! That must’ve been so awful for you and I will try not to put you through it again. Please resume ignoring my concerns because, as we both know, they are ridiculous.

But by far, the craziest I get is when I want to be treated with respect. There must be a straightjacket somewhere with my name on it! Weeooo weeoo, that’s the sound of the ambulance that’s on its way to take me to my special padded room! I am sorry you had to deal with me!

So I guess what I’m trying to do is simply apologize. I hope that next time you treat me like a piece of street trash, you’re able to forgive me when I react like that’s a bad thing. There is no way you could’ve known I don’t like to be treated that way. How could you know?! Sorry, I can be so dramatic sometimes.

 

Oh and sorry for apologizing so many times!

I Don’t Know How Much Longer I Can Hold Back From Texting You.

I want to talk to you, but I refuse to be the only person that tries. I don’t want to give you any more power over me.

I’m not allowed to text you. I don’t allow myself to check your social media. I’m not allowed to look through our old conversations or imagine what would happen if we ran into each other.

But I break all my own rules.

I understand that I should be over you by now, but I can’t get used to the idea of referring to you in the past tense. I still want you in my future.

I keep dreaming about you, late at night and during long drives in my car. You’re lodged in the back of my mind.

Honestly, I don’t know how much longer I can hold myself back from texting you. I want to know how you’re doing. I want to know what you’ve been doing. Who you’ve been hanging around with.

Most of all, I want you to remember that I exist. I want you to see my name pop up on your phone screen, so I know that I actually crossed your mind that day. I want you to relive the memories that I live every damn night. I want you to miss me.

You must not, though. If you aren’t reaching out to me, then it means you’ve wiped me from your mind. You’ve forgotten how much fun we used to have. Or maybe I’m glorifying our past. Maybe you never liked me as much as I thought you did.

Either way, I know it’s only a matter of time until I crack and contact you. Until I break my streak of acting like you’re a stranger.

Of course, I don’t know what texting you is going to accomplish. It’s not going to change anything. It’s not going to magically make you care. I know that you don’t. You probably never did.

That’s why I keep telling myself to wait. Wait another day. Wait another week. Wait until next month, at least. Keep waiting until the waiting stops feeling painful — but it never stops.

I always wonder when you last checked my social media, which pictures you’ve seen. I wonder if there’s been a day when you wanted to talk to me, but thought better of it. I wonder if you regret letting me go or if you feel like you did the right thing.

I wonder what the hell you think of me, if you think of me at all.

It’s so hard to stop myself from texting you, because I miss you like mad. But I’m trying my hardest to make sure you never know that.

You Are My Hardest Goodbye.

The only goodbye that’s ever been difficult. This may be the closest to goodbye I’ll ever get.

Effacing you from my mind may not ever happen when the roots of hope had grasped so deep into my dreams. And how hopeful I was, and still am. The moment nostalgia touches your body, you only message me to ask for something. Something so utterly banal and meaningless. As if I were Siri. Some animated voice that reminded you of a past you no longer cared about. You wanted something. Not me.

Instead, the message should have read, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I broke your heart. I’m sorry this still hurts. You never deserved that.  I really love you, but I’m just too scared of all this. I’m sorry.

You weren’t strong enough for us. For the real thing.

Instead, you said – I don’t love you anymore. I can’t be with you. You’re too dependent, overbearing. When autonomy and self-confidence are my main personality traits, you gave me lies as reasons instead of the truth for peace of mind. So your words, naturally, clawed at my insides.

How can you live with yourself when the boy you love doesn’t want you? Your dream doesn’t want to be chased by you.

Weeks go by. You don’t want me. But, you miss talking. Miss joking with my mouth and mind. Miss this person you remembered inside this body.

Months go by. You told me you wanted me, you said we still have a chance to fix this. We just need time and space. You wanted this body of mine. But I thought you could never love me? I thought you didn’t want to hold these hips between your hands? Making my self-worth fall like sand, slipping between your fingers that couldn’t hold up my heart for more than a second. Despite that, I still chose to plant my life onto your fingertips.

In anticipation, of being the one and only, my mind built thorny dreams around my heart. Cutting down those lofty dreams meant being brutally damaged in the process.

You’ve got a lover now. How could my mind, heart, soul and body match up to the reality that you wanted someone else. I trained. Spoke. Wrote. Danced. Touched. Breathed. Laughed and Cried. I loved and loved and loved, praying for the world to love me back so that you might love me again. So I could finally put a crown onto my head before I fell asleep each night.

I can’t touch the reality. Can’t bring myself across this invisible wall between the memory of you loving me and the way things actually are. I still love you. If I’m here, and you won’t even speak to me, how can I come to terms with all of this?

If this isn’t love then why does my body ache for you and my heart just want to be wrapped up in all of you? I can’t erase the magic of your eyes on me, your mouth on mine. The image of you is so intoxicating I’d let myself drown in you.

Maybe it’s best we don’t meet. Maybe it’s best that you never lay your eyes on this body or listen to this mind again because it would fall from my lips like rain off a flower petal.

I love you. And I’ll love you till the end.

You’ve been running across my mind for so long I forgot which way was up or down. I don’t know what to feel anymore.

Maybe all I can hope for is to be a single petal floating in the wind – hoping to land on a kind stranger’s hand that lets me stay there for a while until we’re both ready to let go, as equals.

I Was Never Warned.

They never told me that falling in love would feel like falling off of a 24-story building, if it goes wrong, that you are always the heartbroken, never the heartbreaker. They never told me that “I love you” and “I’m lonely” are more often than not the same thing.

They don’t tell you that most nights you won’t sleep, and if you do, you’ll wake up screaming his name, or that you will stop eating, because you think maybe if you lost weight you’d be worthy of his love and attention.

They tell you that falling in love is special, and amazing, like nothing else you will ever experience, but how special and amazing is it when I’m lying on my bedroom floor, numbed by the pain he left in his wake, with blood stained wrists and the effects of alcohol clouding my thoughts?

They tell you the first time you fall in love, you won’t ever forget it, and maybe they’re right about that, because I don’t think I’ll ever forget the way his hands burned my skin when he touched me.