What, or who says, that I necessarily ever have to “get over it”? I will honor that love for a long, long time.
No matter how much I look back and you made me doubt everything, somehow I know….
(Maybe it was the way our heartbeats seemed to synchronize when we looked at each other, long, long ago)
Somehow, my heart, a force greater than my mind, knows. that I touched your heart too. And left you changed.
Some temporal distance has brought into view something more clear, and less distorted. That it was meaningful to the both of us, which has given my mind peace.
But at the same time, how could a meaningful experience shared between two individuals ever be replicated? And so it follows, how could it ever be forgotten?
I shouldn’t force myself to not think about it or feel bad about myself because I think about it still.
Some people carry around a few permanent scars. *shrug*. It’s what makes people human and interesting I guess. Just because your heart’s broken, doesn’t mean you are! I’m trying to continue to share my heart with others as much as possible, romantically/not. Life lives on…just making the best of what I have, which is all anyone can ever do.
Maybe I will find love again one day. Honestly, it’s a tall order…and I don’t expect much from anyone.
All I want is one day to maybe be strong enough to look you in the eyes and call you my friend again.
that I DO have higher levels of anxiety than probably most of the general population (as well as a more never-ending, over-thinking inner narrative). As well as hand-in-hand perfectionism, and periodic (self) “doubt waves” but I do NOT have an anxiety DISORDER. It negatively affects my life obviously, but I am still highly FUNCTIONING. And I sure as hell don’t have crippling social anxiety where I can’t make new friends.
I can still choose to control and practice relaxation techniques to keep it under control. I’m talking normal things like exercise or taking a bath or spending some time alone, walking my dog, and not having to resort to desperate vices like smoking. Really thankful in this moment to be finally realizing this and not racking anything up to more than it really is. Really thankful to own that this is my displacement with grace, and that its not my fault. It’s not weak that I need to time out. I was raised (and live) in a high stress, tumultuous family environment. My whole life is innately an identity crisis. Obviously this is how most people would be psychologically affected, inevitably….
Goals: If I get my sleep schedule on point this semester, maybe I can try mindfulness meditation without accidentally falling asleep. lol.
I need to document this strong physiological response right now.
Am I angry? am I sad? Am I both? whatever it is, I feel it pounding in my chest. Let me just record what I’m feeling today. I want to remember how fucking upset I am right now.
I drive to work [At a prestigious institution mind you, and in Baltimore City, mind you, which driving in is no joke] for the first time today. On the way home, I get groceries for the family, and all my schools supplies. I feel pretty accomplished and adult-like.
Instead of asking me how my first drive was, or patting me on the back or something my mom yells at me for getting off at the wrong exit on the way home. Like it was one mistake and didn’t affect you can you not be such a tit. then grumpily leaves when I tell her to be quiet…she feels entitled to be in a bad mood because she made dinner.
Then, my loving father comes in for the last 5 minutes of me eating. Thanks for being so considerate for joining the family for dinner when you were just fucking watching TV. Sits down and starts to have a real conversation with me lasting more than 2 minutes for the first time in literally, forever. I can’t remember the last time my dad sat down with me and talked to me. Literally. I can’t.
So he asks how my drive was and I’m like oh good, maybe things can not suck…wrong. Somehow, this quickly turns into a “Oh, I don’t think you can get into med school. Yeah don’t bother even applying. I think you’re more suitable to be a teacher, because you have “too many interests”. I do “too many clubs”.
You’re not like other pre med students I’ve met…your whole hearts not into it, I can tell. Med school is competitive, I won’t stand a chance.
WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. Can you seriously stop pooping on me for a SECOND of my life when I’m interacting with you? ??? like what the fuck does having other interests have to do with fucking anything and just like why the fuck wouldn’t you be supportive and try to sabotage me because you think it’s whats “best”. HONESTLY HOW MANY OTHER PRE MED STUDENTS DO YOU FUCKING KNOW. IM SO FUCKING DONE WITH BEING COMPARED TO OTHER KIDS. OKAY SO I DONT WANT TO GO TO HOPKINS LIKE THAT OTHER GIRL. FUCK. YOU. akjfnlskjfnskljfnskldjfnskljfnslkjfn .
this degenerated quickly and was needed to relieve angst. end of rant. Just whyyyyyyy. why do you exist to make my life hell
“Intimacy is not who you let touch your genitalia. Intimacy is who you text at 3am about your dreams and fears. Intimacy is giving someone your attention, when ten other people are asking for it. Intimacy is the person always in the back of your mind, no matter how distracted you are.”—this is amazing (via sick-paradise)