Back on the market... sort of.

I feel weird. That is all I can really say. He broke up with me and it wrecked me, a week later we got back together, then two strained weeks go by and last night we mutually made the decision to break up. I just feel weird about it, but I am a writer, so I’m sure there are far greater words to help me figure out what it is I’m feeling.

I went to my very first therapy session ever this week. I knew something was really off with me this past semester. I was experiencing much more anxiety than I had otherwise been conditioned to and accordingly was not well equipped with how to cope. After the break up I withdrew from nearly all my classes. I was failing them anyway and as far as I could see there was no amount of make up work that could save me. Amidst the disbelief and utter sadness I was in, I made an appointment with a therapist up at school. Even after he and I got back together I thought, why not keep the appointment? My life was stressful, just because one major event had passed, I saw that there were still things I needed to deal with.

I didn’t really know what I was going to talk about, but I found myself talking about my boyfriend for the entire session and it became rather apparent that a lot of my anxiety had to do with my relationship. I never really quite left the uncertainty phase. In my head I thought I trusted him, but my actions were pretty evident that I didn’t. Likewise I found that he didn’t really trust me that much either. His lack of trust lead him to reprimand me quite often whenever he felt I wasn’t doing something I should be doing or when I wasn’t saying something I should be saying. The way he could be so condescending lead me to feel rather unsafe and unable to express how I really felt and what I was going through… we both hid a lot of things from each other. It was my therapists advice that I should take some time off, no dating anyone really, and just kind of figure myself out. I need to trust myself more and trust that I really do know what’s best for me, too often I would trivialize my own feelings and push them aside because I didn’t want to hurt him, I didn’t want to upset him or scare him away.

I need to find myself again and stand up for myself. Its just hard because I’ve been so conditioned to men just leaving me, I seriously suffer from a fear of abandonment. In my head, I would rather make light of my insecurities and less than wanted emotions in order to avoid abandonment, but by hiding how I really feel is what leads to men leaving me.

I didn’t plan on ending things last night, but everything just happened so fast. It started out as another fight, but then we began talking about everything… I was finally brave and said something, and he was too. I feel kind of cheated almost, I got the impression that he was just with me for some time now because he wanted to spare me. Like he was doing me some sort of favor by staying with me… and maybe he was, I don’t really know.

I feel really unsettled and uncertain. I half way felt relieved last night because everything seemed to go so smoothly, it was like we were finally being open and honest and no ones feelings were getting hurt. It was a mutual realization. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of me by finally talking about all that stuff… but then we were over, just like that, and I had to get him to humor me and hold my hand till the end of the hall way.

Maybe my uneasiness comes from how alone I feel right now. I’ve all but abandoned all my girlfriends in the pursuit of this relationship and there really is a sense of shame to come crawling back to the old circle, tail between my legs, asking for their friendship when I have been absent for so long. I know that they would welcome me back in, I’ve had the other shoe on the foot many a times as I watched one of them take off with a boyfriend or two… but that doesn’t make this any easier.

Another part of me just wants to get back out into the dating world like a mad woman. This is pretty typical, I mean, I get a lot of validation from the attention that men give me. It makes me feel important and like I matter… like I’m a worthwhile person, and I certainly don’t feel very worthwhile right now. But that’s just what my therapist was getting at. I am using dating as a coping mechanism, which isn’t right and will likely land me in one bad relationship after another. I have to do this on my own, just right now I don’t know how I’m going to do it. If anything I see a lot of tv watching and video game laying in my near future, who knows, maybe I’ll pick up a new hobby like karate or something.

I’m really scared. I keep telling myself that this is the right thing for us, that it’s not just what I need but its what we both need right now, but I’m terrified he will go off and find another. it’s a very real possibility. Here I am taking time to work on myself and I stand the risk of losing him. I don’t like it because deep down I really do feel like he and I are good for each other. Maybe we aren’t good for each other as we are right now, but maybe after a little time, a little self reflection and a fresh start, the relationship can be everything it was meant to be… I’m just scared I wont get the opportunity to see us realize our potential.

Currently the theme song my life is swaying to is Fix You by Coldplay.

“When you try your best but you don’t succeed. When you get what you want but not what you need. When you feel so tired but you can’t sleep, stuck in reverse.

And the tears come streaming down your face, when you lose something you can’t replace. When you love someone but it goes to waste, could it be worse?

Lights will guide home, and ignite your bones, and I will try to fix you…

And high above or down below, when you’re too in love to let it go. But if you never try you’ll never know, just what you’re worth.

Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones, and I will try to fix you…

Tears steam down your face, when you lose something you cannot replace.
Tears stream down your face and I….
Tears steam down your face, I promise you I will learn from my mistakes.
Tears stream down your face and I….

Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones, and I will to fix you.”

Day 5

Day five... he came back.

Day 4

Day 4

Today I woke up feeling hopeful. Don’t be confused, this hopeful has nothing to do with the ever allusive stage of grief known as acceptance. No, I have a feeling I’m slipping back into denial. And why not? Freud theorized a number of defense mechanisms, denial being one of them. Sometimes life’s stresses are much too painful for our psyche to properly deal with. Why the hell not? Why not just stuff it all away and pretend like its not really happening?

Regardless of why I’m feeling hopeful, I’m embracing it. If anything it might give me the courage to do something about it. I’ve been contemplating all morning contacting him. I broke down and text him last night, then hurried and text him about a minute later and told him to ignore my text. This morning?… I don’t know… I just feel like if he really loves me, that doesn’t just go away… you don’t just stop loving someone even though you might be completely angry with them and have a hard time trusting them, you don’t just stop loving them… that being said, I feel like I have to let him know that I’ll do anything it takes to get him back. I’ve never been one to just roll over, so why start now.

The only problem is I see this going one of two ways. He could respond to me. I don’t know how he could respond, I guess there are “sub” ways of this going depending on how responds if he does. He could get frustrated that I’m texting him (yet again) even after I promised him I wouldn’t and lash out, telling me not to contact him and give him the space he needs. Or he could be indifferent. Or he could be glad I’m texting, that he misses me and does really want to talk to me (that is the outcome I’m dying for). Lastly, he could not respond at all and just ignore me.

The troublesome thing here is that nearly every plausible response (or no response) he could give me, will shoot me right out of this hopeful state and right back into the dark isolation of my bedroom, and yet there is only one response that will make me happy… the odds are stacked against me, but after everything that has happened and after everything that I’ve done, I figure, what have I got to lose? I owe it to him to show him how much I really love him and how much he really means to me, even if he chooses to do nothing with it and I continue hurting like I am… at least I’ll know I did something.

Day 3

Day 3

I’m really tired, probably because I just woke up. I think I’m starting to develop a cough which I am not happy about, but it stands to reason. I’m pretty good at physically punishing my body when it comes to the gym but nothing damages my immune system more then when my heart is broken. Its like adding insult to injury but I suppose its normal.

I can say I haven’t cried yet today, which isn’t THAT much of an accomplishment, seeing as I woke up about a half an hour ago, but I will hold onto it. I do believe I am getting better with the crying. Day one I was highly edgy and likely to cry at anyone or anything. I found myself in the bathroom at work on 10 different occasions trying to pull myself together. Country music is not ideal for healing a broken heart, if anything it just exacerbates the situation.

Yesterday I experienced some anger over the breakup and I believe at some point I began to blame him for everything, where as before I was blaming myself for everything and was utterly miserable at the bleak existence I saw before me. What are the five stages of grief?

Denial: He told me we were done. I wouldn’t get out of his car because I refused to acknowledge or accept that very sentence. It couldn’t be true, there was no way. He loved me and I loved him, people who love each other don’t break up? I’ve never had someone love me break up with me.. Its always the ones that don’t love me that break my heart… he can’t be breaking up with me.

Anger: Which I experience yesterday. I began to blame him. This is his fault that this happened. It is his inexperience in relationships and his hypocrisy regarding forgiveness that have lead to our demise. He’s not perfect, but I forgave him for it, why can’t he forgive me for being imperfect and making a mistake?

Bargaining: I did make a deal or two with God on this one, the deals I made had more to do with relieving me of the pain then of bringing him back to me. No matter how much I am drowning in my sorrows I can’t expect God to dismiss the free agency of another human being. I know God wants to see me happy, but making that boy come back to me is just something He wont do. Instead I made bargains in order to get me out of this hellish nightmare sooner, rather than later.

Depression: Oh yes, I was in this one for about 48 hours straight it felt like. It felt like I couldn’t breath, like I couldn’t open my eyes without a steady flow of tears falling out. Sometimes, so exhausted from crying, I just laid there numb while I played everything over and over again in my head. I still feel depressed… I still feel helpless because there is nothing I can do. I no longer have control, I’m just chained to my sadness that I drag with me where ever I go…

Acceptance:.. I don’t know that I’ve reached this yet. Maybe I have. I have begun to smile again. Part of me wonders if I shouldn’t be doing that. If I should just be wallowing in all my heartache. Its as if I believe that I need to continue being sad for just long enough in order for him to see how much I really love him, and maybe then he’ll take me back… Does accepting this mean I’m ready to go out and face the world once more? Because I don’t really feel ready to do that. I can handle strangers, but people I know? What do I tell them? Do I tell them anything? Dear God what if they ask about him? Do I tell them what happened? I don’t know that I’ve met acceptance yet…

I have had a few friends contact me via text and I’ve relayed to them what happened. Each of them have told me that he didn’t really love me and that he was looking for a way out, and I presented him with a decent enough reason to drop me… but if he really loved me then he’d find a way to forgive me.

Is paranoia one of the stages of grief and loss?

Day 3- Continued

The not crying didn’t last long. I skipped school today, somehow got out of work, and I’m still in bed. I saw some new pictures of him on facebook, some pictures a friend posted. I deleted him because I knew I would just torture myself by looking at his profile, but I didn’t account for my friend posting pictures of him. These pictures were taken yesterday… he is smiling and happy… he is just fine and its killing me.

I’d rather be angry… I’d rather be mad at him because at least then I feel like I might survive this. Like I might be okay… I miss him so much. I just want him back. I don’t know why this is happening. Word to the wise, don’t ever text your ex, it will never be received well. I don’t think I cheated. I know what I did was wrong, but in my heart of hearts I know I didn’t cheat, if ever I had the opportunity to cheat, I wouldn’t have taken it… I just text the guy and now my life is ruined… I never thought this would happen again. I don’t this to ever happen again. I’m just going to be alone because I can’t do this. I am going to fail all my classes…. I’m a terrible student, the worst excuse for a girlfriend that ever existed, and a pitiful human being… I just don’t want to hurt anymore

Day 2

Day 2

Today I don’t feel like dying, granted I did go work out this morning and then I came home, slept, didn’t turn in my homework assignment and didn’t go to class, but I feel alright. I’m thinking this is probably due in part to the fact that I got the opportunity to talk to him last night.

I felt as though I needed to rid myself of any objects, pictures, or things that reminded me of him. My initial plan was to drop the things off at his apartment, but it turned out he was at his mom’s house. How do I know? Because he called…. The absolute horror that crept into my heart when my phone rang in my apron and I checked it to see it was him. What could he want? Is he torturing me some more? Or has he had a turn around and wants to forgive me, maybe even take me back? I couldn’t handle the endless number of possible options, I needed to get off work fast. Upon calling him I learned the information he was at his mom’s and was fine with me dropping some things off.

I planned on just leaving the things on the porch and then driving away, but he didn’t allow me that option, he wanted to see me…. So we talked… and talked… and talked… I learned is that I wasn’t forgiven, and any hope I’d had was wasteful. The least comforting thing to hear is, “You’re going to be fine, you’ll find another guy.”… thanks. I don’t want another guy, but I’m just oh so super grateful for the confidence you have in just throwing me away to the next unsuspecting fool, feels great.

The next bomb he dropped was that we could still be friends… immediately I refused. That is a long road of absolute pain, lined with the hope and promise of a brighter tomorrow, but no guarantee that it will happen.

While I was driving home I couldn’t take it, I told him that I would be friends, that I would do whatever it took to earn back his trust… but I’m terrified… I’m afraid that what is going to happen is I’m going to sit back and watch him date other girls and have to keep a happy face, no matter how much its killing me inside. I’m afraid that I’m going to do everything I can to make him trust me, even if it means eliminating my social life and just going to school or working… I’m afraid that when is all said and done I will be awarded nothing but a thank you and a heartfelt goodbye while he runs off with another girl, and once more I will be left picking up the pieces.

I am in limbo. I’m torn between the hope that just maybe, just maybe this could work, and I can have him back, and the terror that this could just hurt me twice as bad as it did originally… I’m worried I may have made a serious mistake in agreeing to be friends, but at the very least I can say I haven’t cried today.

Day 1

Day 1- 12 hours after the break up

The pain always seems worse, as though there is no recollection from past experiences as to just how much it really hurts. My head ache is incessant and tears always seem to be welling up, just waiting for an excuse to escape the corners of my eyes. I feel hungry sometimes, but nothing really sounds good. The idea of eating anything just makes me kind of nauseous. When I woke up this morning and after I finally came to my senses, I realized last night wasn’t a horrible dream, it was a reality, my heart began to race and I felt sick… I still feel sick.

I’ve been watching a lot of tv or sleeping. The more I allow myself to think about it, the more I find myself in an inconsolable fit. My body already hurts all over and the sobbing does nothing for my head ache. I would rather just sit here, in the dark, watching Forrest Gump.

No contact has been made for about 10 hours. I want to call, but I don’t need to add crazy or stalker to my repertoire. I am a mess and miserable beyond any comprehension of the word, but that is no excuse to behave like a crazy person… so the silence must continue, more so out of respect for him.

I haven’t done much to try and get work off for today. Working is not really an option. I can’t really keep it together. I asked a co-worker… a good friend, if he could help me get my shift covered, but to no avail. My only option now is calling in sick, which isn’t necessarily a lie… I feel very sick.

I’m not sure how I’m going to get my school work done. Part of me is beginning to wonder if I can go talk to a counselor at school and just write this semester off as a bust. I’ve had friends go to the psychologists at school and be allowed to withdraw halfway through the semester due to anxiety or stress.

I’m feeling large amounts of humiliation. I don’t really want to leave the confines of my room. I didn’t go to church today because I don’t want anyone to see me. Everyone is so friendly, I just know that I would be greeted with a smile, and asked how I was doing, which undoubtedly would lead to a complete melt down… I cannot allow myself to detract from the spirit everyone else is feeling by crying like that…

I am grateful for my mom and my sister. Who sat with me last night into the wee hours, trying to calm me down. It hurts me that they have to see me this way, wallowing in despair. No matter how helpless they felt, the continued to sit with me and talk to me. My mom downplayed the mistakes I made, reminding me that I’m not the first person in the world to have ever made a mistake while my sister rubbed my aching neck and head. They offered words of comfort and support. I don’t know what I would have done without them. I love them and I feel blessed to have two such wonderful women in my life to take care of me when my mistakes land me in such heart wrenching predicaments.

I have only told one friend, my co-worker, but I feel blessed to have him as a friend. I’m not really close enough with any of my co-workers to ask for such a favor during such a vulnerable time, but he and I have been friends for some time now, and this isn’t the first time he’s seen me reduced to such a pitiful state.

This is just the first day. My past experiences have taught me that the first day is one of the worst days, but will also have to get even worse then this before it can get better. I need to rely on others because I can’t do this alone… I just can’t do it.

Please tell me that I'm bad

Please tell me that I’m bad
Remind me when I’m weak
Announce my imperfections
Paint the picture stark and bleak

I’m not one for tactfulness
And I’m known for being blunt
My words cut like a razor
A sharp, well witted stunt

Emotions get the best of me
I act before I think
Always say what’s on my mind
I’m viscous while I speak

My opinion is always known
Whether asked of me or not
And if you don’t agree with me
My temper can grow hot

I can give a single look
A warning if you will
That if you provoke me
A hurt you’ll begin to feel

I’m not one to forgive others
Especially when I’m hurt
I’ll hold onto that grudge for long
Until the bridge is burnt

I’m too sensitive to function
I throw pity parties for fun
No one else is invited
There’s room for only one

I indulge in self loathing
I’m the last one I’ll forgive
My stupidity entraps me
And never lets me live

Please tell me that I’m bad
End my dreaming of
That happily ever after
I’m just too flawed to ever love

10/14/2011

Hit me with your best shot

Hey universe, its me, Noelle. You know, that girl you’ve been using as an outhouse for the past week? I’ve got something for you, in fact, two somethings. Two middle fingers held high and a big F-U sounding from my lips. Go ahead. Keep dumping on me, I don’t care. I don’t care that I’m sleeping on an air mattress in a room with no floor and an echo bouncing off every wall. I don’t care that I’m between houses and I can’t find any of my things, and that my life is in complete disarray. I don’t care that people around me are making decisions that dramatically effect my life and limit my decisions… I DON’T CARE. Throw whatever you want at me, I mean you can’t kill my cat, you already did that last September. So go a-freaking-head. Shit away. Because you know what? I can handle it. I might not be able to rely on many people, usually my problems in the first place are a result of relying on people who can’t be trusted. But I know one person I can always trust to have my back no matter what and that is God.

Bad things are happening universe. Completely stupid, inexcusable, unexplainable, and unfair things are happening, at the hands of others no less. I know you’re trying to teach me not to be a good person universe, you’re trying to teach me not to trust people because they will let me down. You’re trying to teach me that doing nice things and reaching out to help people and be kind to them will ultimately come back to haunt me in the worst way, so don’t help. You’re trying to get me to give up hope, that it all just sucks and there isn’t a point. But I have a point. I have a purpose and I’m going to keep being me and doing what I believe is right in spite of whatever asinine lesson you’re trying to teach me.

Heavenly Father loves me and is going to help me through all this. I might just be a tiny, insignificance in your eyes universe. Just a speck in the fabric of your endless folds, but to Him I am special, I am loved. And you know what universe? He created you. As big and grand as you are, you are nothing. Do your worst, but I am not alone, so suck it.

A friend indeed...

I’ve grown up with the belief that people are generally good. That born so deep in our being is this intuitive nature to be good to others, be honest, and look out for each other, and why shouldn’t? We’re all in this life together, helping each other out and making each others burdens light should be a priority, it is through each other that prayers can be answered.

Maybe its this idealistic belief about mankind that has me so bewildered as to why people can be so cruel to one another. Beyond the realm of coexisting with humans is that bond between friends or kindred spirits that I hold sacred in my heart but have found to be a title of no worth to others.

What does it really mean to be a friend? Are my values of honesty and integrity so far out of reach that I’m really holding a standard no one calling themselves my friend can meet?

I like to think that I am a good friend, but the only way my mind can make sense of the betrayal I’ve met is to wager that maybe I am not that good of a friend, maybe I deserve being lied to and taken advantage of.
Regardless of why this is happening, at the end of the day I really only have myself to blame. Either I am a terrible person who deserves to be treated terribly, or I am just simply a fool for trusting people who are untrustworthy.

My heart hurts. I feel betrayed. I feel foolish. I feel stupid. I feel insignificant. I feel like a complete moron for those moments I ever sat on my knees and expressed gratitude for the people in my life, because I don’t need people like that in my life.

The only solace I can find is that at least I can say I learned something. I will try and be the best kind of friend I can be to others and then hope its enough to have similar behaviors reciprocated… I guess at the end of the day integrity does not beget integrity.

Adieu

Tonight is the last night that I will be sleeping in this room, in this house that I have called home for sixteen years. I’m tired, but I find myself not wanting to sleep. Its like I’m trying to make each second last as long as possible, while I’m still here. Every picture frame has come down and all that is left on my walls are the holes left behind from the nails and screws, an empty reminder of the memories that once hung there. I can’t believe this day is already here…

An era is ending for me and I’m finding it to be bittersweet. It is the realization that I really cannot stay young forever. At some point, all kids have to grow up.

I have reservations. I am worried that I will fall flat on my face and I will struggle to make ends meat. I’m fearful that I will be homesick and crave the days of just lounging around the house with my family. Jarring with my dad, banter with my sister, and long talks with my mom. Its so funny how these moments are so often taken for granted, and now faced with the reality that I wont be able to experience these moments as often has my heart in mourning. Perhaps all my apprehension is just fear of the unknown, or fear of change.

Another part of me is excited. While I sacrifice the security of living with my family and the unconditional love and support, there is one thing I will be gaining in return by moving out… and that is freedom. The freedom to not only come and go as I please, or to stay out late, but the freedom to make mistakes and learn from them. There are a lot of things I will have to learn how to do on my own which I am excited about.

I bid a sorrowful, yet hopeful goodbye to this room, to this house, to this home. To every tear cried, song sung, and awkward joke cracked by the mouth of my dad… I will miss you…. And I’ll see you every Sunday for family dinner.

Love is a Battle Field: Part 1

My mind is screaming and spitting out the bitterness as my heart weeps, let’s see how everything unfolds…

“You should have known this was going to happen. You’re always throwing yourself at whoever flashes you a smile or tells you that you’re pretty, but do you take the time to figure out if he even wants you?”

“Shut up! I thought this one was different… I felt like he would never do this to me…” Heart shutters.

“That’s just you’re problem heart, you don’t think! You just feel all these feelings and you think that’s what makes the world go round. You need to get your facts straight.”

“I don’t know where I went wrong… I just… I don’t know what happened… I thought you had this all under control. Why did you let me do this again?”

“Oh you want to pin this on me do you? Its always my fault huh? I tried to warn you. I gave you every reason in the world not to trust this one, and what did you do?”

“I trusted him…”

“Exactly! Because that’s you’re problem heart, you don’t think, you just feel. You either feel great or you feel miserable, and you know what? This misery crap is pissing me off! The second you start aching and crying guess what happens to me? Just guess.”

“Stop it, haven’t I gone through enough?”

“No, because no matter how many times you put yourself through this hell you never seem to learn anything! What’s worse is you’re not the only one hurting!”

Then the eyes chime in…
“Yeah you big idiot! Look what your carelessness has done to us! We’re red, sore, and swollen, all we want to do is rest but nooooo, you have to go on hurting and so must we!”

Mind isn’t about to let the eyes get away so easily..
“Not so fast there fellas, you’re the one that spotted the creep. You two are to blame for poor heart even melting for that ridiculous smile in the first place!” The eyes cower away, they can never win and argument with my mind.

“What about us?” Piped in the legs. “Every time heart gets all mopey and love sick for some shmuck, we can’t even function. Our knees get all week and each foot takes on ten extra pounds. How are we supposed to lug the rest of you around when we feel this way? And its all heart’s fault!”

Seems like stomach can empathize with heart, it knows the pains all too well…
“I understand you’ve been hurt again poor dear, but listen to me, every time you put yourself out there with someone less than worthy, I don’t get fed. I’m really hungry you see, but ever since you became so sad I haven’t been fed properly. Every time you get excited and hopeful about a new boy, I do too. I feel those butterflies for you. Oh how I wish you would just cheer up so I could be full once again, I’m so hungry…”

Mind has had enough of this nonsense.
“See what you’re doing heart? See how you’re affecting everyone else here? Even I can’t stand for you to be in this much pain. When those wimpy eyes start crying…”

“Hey!”

“Shut up you two. When they start crying I get this awful ache all around me, then neck starts to bitch at me and you know how neck is.. Yeah, pain in the neck. So listen, I know you’re feeling bad now. You’re probably feeling foolish, embarrassed, and betrayed, but try and remember, it always gets better. Maybe not right now, five minutes from now, or even five weeks from now, but at some point in time you know you’ll feel better.” Eyes were rolling back, mind was just a jackass as far as they were concerned.

“Yeah… I guess you’re right.. I mean you must be, you’re the brain of this whole operation,” heart chocked out a laugh.

“Exactly.” Mind could only sigh, heart was calm for now… but when would the cycle end? Sure, in the future another careless punk would happen upon her, flash her a grin, she would throw herself at him, then when she least suspected it, he would crush her… just like they always do. Then everyone else, eyes, legs, stomach and mind would be right back here at square one… so how much longer would everyone else have to endure heart's suffering… when will the dreaming end?

Tisk tisk, poor heart. She’s got some real growing up to do. Tune in next time…

Happenstance

I am doing my very best
To be as strong as I can
To pretend that I am happy
And not let you see my hand

I make believe I’m selfless
That I can put my needs aside
It’s the righteous thing to do
My true feelings I will hide

I will wear a smile
And others will believe
I’ve dusted myself off again
That I’m back to being me

Any inkling that I’m suffering
To others I’ll dismiss
You and them will never know
That anything’s amiss

I’ll wish you every happiness
While I writhe inside
Begging mercy from my maker
To let me leave this life

I’ll dream of those three words
So carelessly you spoke
While I stuff away the heartache
And every sob I choke

In daylight I will mask the pain
The waking world will not see
The misery that suffocates
And steals the air from me

Once in the sanctuary of my room
Covers pulled up nice and tight
I’ll relinquish all control
And surrender to the fight

The tremors devouring strength
Self loathing will consume
Every ounce of will I’ve left
To never burden you

A fool I’m left to drown
In the tears of happenstance
It was but a silly dream
To think I stood with Chance…

Sad, crushed, humiliated, and miserable

I am sad… no wait. I am crushed. I am humiliated and miserable. I have been doing so good about being so positive lately. Amidst all the chaos that has been surrounding my life as of late I have still somehow managed to find a silver lining and make the best of a bad situation. I’m sure I could do that right now. I’m sure if I looked really hard I could find a way to be okay with this… but that just takes too damn much energy and frankly, I am plum out of it.

Its as if the life force has been sucked out of me. I worry that I am gambling away years of my life expectancy in hopes that just once one of these poor souls I so helplessly fall in love with, will love me back. I feel weak, like I just ran a marathon. My limbs are too heavy to lift… or maybe its because I just don’t care to move them. Its like my brain can’t make my body move. The message is there, “move… get up and move,” but the nerves are not receiving it. Even the slight and delicate key strokes necessary to write this have been troublesome…

I can’t stand that everyone in the world feels the need to text me write now, because for a second I get to think it could be him. It could be him calling out to me to tell me he is sorry and has changed his mind. That I am something special to him and I’m worth holding onto. It’s a torture I inflict on myself every time my stupid phone sounds off and I let myself believe the unbelievable.
I’m so exhausted… this dream has fluttered into my life so many times. These boys just casually saunter in and for this tiny insignificant fraction of time I can loosen the ties to my heart. For the escape of one tired breath I can relax and surrender to the dream that maybe, just maybe I have finally found my one and only someone. Which is why I am sad, crushed, humiliated and miserable, because for a split second, I thought I was done searching.

I feel lied to, like a travesty has occurred and there is not enough justice in this world to right the wrong that has been committed. I feel as though I have sat myself down, put on my running shoes, tied them all up nice and tight, only to find that the race was yesterday… I am too late… it doesn’t matter that I can out run any person on the track, because I’m too late and the first place ribbon has already been given away.
I wonder how many more years of my life I will sacrifice at the expense of finding someone special… someone who can love me forever.

Thrashed, beaten, torn and bruised
So desperate for love, so often abused

Mercy please for this tattered heart
There is no room for one more scar

Another break, it might never heal
Cease to beat and no longer feel

What’s one more tear, a fraying rent
What’s one more year of life having spent?

The carnage that is this broken heart
Is but a wasteland that all do impart
　
　

Good Riddence

Fallen snow
So fresh and clean
A grace on Christmas morn

In the spring
A shame to see
Flowers wilt and torn

I banish thee
To leave me be
I crave the humble warmth

Of summer days
And sunny rays
And flip flops to be worn

Fluffy white
I wave goodbye
I promise to cherish and remember

I ask so nice
This gentle ice
Please don’t return until December

How to build a palace

A talk was given in church a week or so ago that was all about perspective, which of course made me introspective. I realized that while I like to pretend I am an optimist, I am much more often dancing around on the darker side of pessimism. Our speaker painted a couple pictures to help illustrate the lesson but one in particular stood out to me, that was the painting of the palace and the prison. He explained that oftentimes we have choices, but sometimes there are four walls of circumstance that cage us in beyond our choice and beyond our control.

For the pessimist we see a prison. The walls are foreboding. The room is dark and dank, and a lonely cage in which to dwell. Visitors beware as they are not welcomed by the rain cloud that is circling as it rains or strikes anyone who dares to bring any attitude opposing that of misery.

For an optimists we see a palace. The same four walls of circumstance in which this person cannot leave, they make the best of. Walls are painted, pictures are hung, and visitors are welcomed in to this warm and inviting room. In fact, guests are often visiting because of the sunny disposition of this particular individual.
I find myself habitually trapped in rooms of circumstance, sometimes by the hands of others but most often as a result of my own imprudence. It is when I land myself within the confines of these walls with the knowledge that I myself, am the very villain that trapped me there… it is then that I struggle the most to find that silver silhouette encasing the cloud that is pouring down on me. But it was during that talk that I was finally able to really comprehend just how much gratitude plays into optimism.

Sure, I can paint a picture of this bleak existence on the walls that surround me, as so often I do. I’ve had my heart broken multiple times and tend to dwell on it. I venture out on these fruitless quests to discover where I went wrong fueled by a hope that if I find an answer, maybe it will change everything… but it never does and so the misery continues. Yet I know there is much to be grateful for.

It is an absolute blessing to have had my heart broken as many times as I have. I have been fortunate to encounter some really extraordinary men, each worthy of falling in love with. While none of these relationships stood the test of time, I learned much from each of them for the short periods of time I spent with them. Each relationship taught me things about myself and what I want out of a future partner, things I might have otherwise had to just guess on. I have a long history of fond memories and experiences I wouldn’t trade for the world. I know that not everyone dates or loves as often or frequently as I do, so that truly is something to be grateful for. Someday all these experiences are going to help me be a successful partner to my future spouse. Sometimes I am impatient and I want things to happen right now, but it will happen for me when its suppose to.

It took me a long time, but I realize now that the more grateful I can be for the things that hurt me most, the better I will be at building a palace and the happier I will be.

It

Run it in the ground
Trip and stumble down
Dust it off and shrug it
Tighten grip and love it

Hate it, fade it
Let it go and wade it
Through the muck and make it
Banish and forsake it

Wave goodbye and free it
Don’t look behind, just leave it
Move forward and forgive it
For once, let it live and live it

No news is good news

I had someone ask me recently, “you’re such a happy person, why don’t you write happy things?” I don’t know that I completely agree that I am all that happy of a person, me thinks he just doesn’t know me well enough. To answer the question however, is a simple answer. I write as a form of therapy. It’s a way for me to express that which I might not otherwise be able to, either due to cowardice or social impropriety.

When I am genuinely happy, I don’t see a need for therapy or a reason to escape. Oftentimes when I find myself amidst the elusive emotion known as joy, I am too encapsulated by the bliss to ever bother to sit down and write about it. If anything I am far too busy trying to enjoy the fleeting feeling for as long as I can before it wanes and once more I find a need to write. As short as these moments might be, I cherish them and revel in them as they happen. Often I hold on to them long after they’ve passed and try to recreate them, always lacking the original luster… but I remember enough that in order to appease some who might believe my writing to be all depressive in nature, I will now recall of a time when I was happy beyond any ounce of measure. This was after I was baptized.

There is an array of mushy details leading up to my actual baptism itself. To know my background and what I grew up with, my getting baptized was pretty much the first sign that hell was freezing over. It was a long road to baptism for me with my biggest obstacle being my own pride. I had so many fears about what getting baptized would mean. I would be living to a new standard and I wasn’t certain if I could live up to it… did I want to feel guilty all the time? I wasn’t certain if was ready to turn my back on the person I was. After all, all the experiences I had prior to that point had made me into who I was… how could I just ignore all of that?

There was a moment when I remember just letting go of everything. I was sitting in the passenger seat of my friend’s car. We were driving on our way home from attending the Spring General Conference in 2009. I’d had this thought in my head for a while but finally just sitting there, enjoying the quiet hum of the freeway beneath the tires, I was brave enough to say it out loud. “I think I’m supposed to get baptized.”
From that moment on I had found a sense of courage and strength that I never knew I’d had. I felt like I could take on the world and that no matter what trial came my way, there was this peace in knowing I didn’t have to face anything alone anymore.

I had so much gratitude for the people in my life and the experiences I’d had. I was even grateful to have had my heart ripped out and stomped on because I knew that without that story, without that suffering, I would have never been humbled enough to fully embrace the love the gospel had to offer me.

I haven’t been so happy as that day I was sat down on a chair on May 9, of 2009 and was confirmed a member to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. This isn’t to say my testimony has been diminished, this isn’t to say that I haven’t experienced spiritual moments that filled my heart, but I am saying that I can’t remember being as happy as I was then prior to that moment or since that moment.

I know that these heart breaks and pitfalls I’ve encountered since then will merely be speed bumps in the grand scheme of things. While they seem inescapable now and utterly devastating, these minor afflictions and heart aches will be nothing compared to the happiness I’m sure to feel when I find that special someone. A mere trifle to my wedding day or the birth of each of my future children. My life isn’t all doom and gloom, but until I have met with these joys, it helps me to write about the trivial little cracks in my heart.

Crazy is as crazy does

I have officially diagnosed myself as crazy. I am not a diagnostician nor do I have any credibility, merit, or degree to my diagnosis, but I still believe it to be true. I sit there in my classes like abnormal psychology, theories of personality, families in stress, and I can’t help but wonder how on earth I am still alive for one thing, or why I’ve yet to be committed. I suppose as far as crazy goes, I could be much worse, after all I’m not having conversations with auditory hallucinations and I’m not hauled up in my bed living in my filth… yet.

“So Noelle, how are you crazy?” You might be wondering. I am crazy in many things and I realize it more as of late than I have before. Its crazy that for so long I thought of myself as normal and mellow, which I am anything but. I am analytical to a fault. Thinking things through might seem a fruitful and acceptable attribute, however I find more often then not that I spend so much time thinking about what might happen, that I forget to let myself enjoy what is currently happening. This over analyzing has caused much more misery than it has saved me from, which is somewhat ironic. I am neurotic and paranoid, often believing that any suffering is warranted by some universal crime or another that I have inadvertently committed. Also I have tendencies to feel things in a heightened sense and then turn around and express those feelings with even more intensity than desired. More or less I am a walking basket case.

The more important question is not how I am crazy, but why I am crazy. I remember as a kid my older brother used to be really mean to me, which is pretty typical. Older brothers tease their little sisters, at least that’s how I knew it. There are two problems with this equation in regards to my situation, however.
The first problem is I was (and still am) a tender hearted person. As much as I wish my heart was this impenetrable force to which nothing could gain access, it is quite the opposite. It is like a sponge that just soaks up everything that is thrown at it, be it love and kindness or disapproval and rejection. Being teased by my older brother was not something my young little heart was capable of enduring. Most of the time I had it in my head that he was a mean, nasty boy, but the fact remained that he was still my older brother… I think I sought his approval, much like any younger sibling would and the way he teased me had me believing that I was just this appalling human being.

The second problem of this equation is that my older brother was some what relentless when it came to his tormenting of me, which was something my mom was not capable of controlling, to which her solution was always the same. My older brother was mean to me about something, I cried, and then I was sent to my room… at 24 I understand why this had to happen. My mom wanted to send him to his room, but it never panned out. I’m sure Nanny Joe would have a solution to that but Nanny Joe wasn’t around when I was a kid. My mom was just trying to protect me. I understand that now, but at 5? At 8? At 13? I didn’t really understand what was happening. I just wanted to get a snack in the kitchen, and here I was being punished… then the thinking began… why was he being mean to me? Did I do something wrong? Did I look at him the wrong way? Did I say something wrong? Was it because I didn’t say anything? I MUST have done something wrong because now I’m in my room…

So intrigued by my self diagnosis, you might also be curious to know more. Let’s see… along with this innate core fear of rejection that pervasively dictates my life, I’ve also stumbled upon some rather ineffective life long appraisals and coping mechanisms. In some senses they are circular causal in that my poor cognitions and attributions land me in situations where I need a coping mechanism, but then my ineffective coping mechanism fuels even more negative self loathing thoughts.

Oh what’s this? You’d like an example of said poor coping mechanism? Possibly mentioned in previous blogs it is learned that I am one to beat a situation to death until I feel as though I’ve exhausted every possible option. This is to say a situation where things haven’t necessarily gone the way I would have liked. Just for the sake of explaining things, we’ll say I liked a boy that didn’t like me. Instead of accepting the situation as “it is what it is,” (because let’s face it, that would be far too mellow of a reaction for someone as neurotic and overly analytical as myself) I need to know why. I MUST know why. I need to know why he doesn’t he like me. Is there another girl he likes more? If so, why does he like her more? Does it have anything to do with my physical appearance? Was I too clingy? Was I not clingy enough? Maybe he thought I wasn’t interested? Maybe I wasn’t clear on my intentions? What could I have done differently that could have made him like me? And the list goes on of about 100 more completely whacked out questions as to why this fictional boy could possibly not like me. But methodically asking myself the questions isn’t enough, at some point I’ll usually start to pester the poor guy until I can squeeze some sort of justification out of him as well. This is poor coping because while I might get some sort of answer, it doesn’t leave me feeling satisfied. The answer as to why isn’t a cure all to future potential run-ins with similar problems. The pain or the stressor is not alleviated, and beyond that in my quest for answers I have also damaged what could have been a good friendship.

Clearly I’m not stupid. With hindsight I am able to retrace my actions and see where they have lead me. I can look all the way back to when I was a kid and see why that might have a profound effect on me today. I’ve studied my coping strategies (or lack there of) and evaluated their efficiency. I am not stupid because I am aware of what is happening… but I am crazy because I do nothing to stop it.

The skies are crying with me

Its 2:07 in the morning and its raining… its been cold all day, snowed last week. But right now in this very moment, it is raining… I am a crier. But I am a crier in the most shameful of senses. I will never cry where anyone can see me nor will I ever cry loud enough for anyone to hear. I never want to draw attention to myself when I can’t keep it together. For me it is bad enough to be suffering a heightened enough emotion to make me want to cry, but to have to meet and surrender to this in front of others? Never. It is my burden to bare.

Its not that crying is a sense of weakness. In fact, I’ll gladly admit to anyone that I get choked up when I watch Disney movies. But it’s the tears that spill because of my own careless stupidity… those are the ones I don’t want others to feel they have to clean up. My mom has heard enough of my sobbing over throwing my heart at some boy who didn’t want it, why make her hear that one more time?
Instead I’ll lay in my bed, face my wall, and swim in my thoughts until I fall asleep on my tear soaked pillow or until I simply grow too tired of crying…. That’s really embarrassing. The only people that should be tired of crying are those grieving over a lost love one at a funeral. To think I’ve let more then one tear leave the corner of my eye over a boy is pitiful.

As pitiful as me putting myself in this predicament? Sure, sounds about even. What’s worse is I lay here craving a connection with anyone. It’s a dreadful and unfulfilling wish for there to be someone that can sense when I am in need. The irony is that I am so damn prideful that if perchance such an individual were actually to exist, I would likely turn their services away, claiming I deserve to suffer.

Maybe that’s what it all comes down to… I deserve this. I either did something or not enough of something, or maybe this is just one of those punishing good deeds or misinterpreted intentions. Either way, I am here, I am crying, and I feel like I deserve to be sad, miserable, and alone… but I’m not alone. The skies are crying with me tonight.

Call me a dreamer

I took a 1010 college English course when I was back in high school. One of our very first assignments we were asked to write a paper about a word that typically had one definition, but had a completely different meaning as defined by our own lives. I chose the word hope. For most people this word is synonymous with strength, optimism, or courage. My life experiences had taught me that hope lies more on an equal ground with foolishness and stupidity. It was a word that blindly led me into precarious and harmful situations because I was imprudent enough to believe that things could be different.

I learned pretty early in life that you can’t get your hopes up if you have no hope to begin with. For a long time I had this childish sense of idealism that had me believing that if I worked hard enough, I could achieve the things I wanted. It took some pitfalls for me to understand that while I can control my actions and the effort I put forth, I cannot control the outcome.

Needless to say I got an A on the paper, as my definition of the word hope so greatly varied the more renowned and accepted definition. These were my thoughts at the young age of 18, so what do I believe now six years later, at the ripened age of 24?

I think that there are two kinds of hope. There is the hope that motivates each of us to wake in the morning, a sort of innate belief that getting out of bed is going to be worth it. This hope is a reminder that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, that on the other end of going to school is a good career and a better life. There is the prospect that even though this relationship didn’t work out, that there will be one that eventually does. This hope is a perseverance that helps each of us make it through the darker days and push forward in search for a brighter tomorrow.

Then there is the other hope… It is the hope keeps me holding onto something that has long since died. It is a delusional dream that patience will pay off, that if I keep quiet and wait long enough, my time will come, and things will change. Or it is a hope that has me beating a situation to death like some sort of control freak, trying to squeeze some sort of different response out of it, abusing this entity from every possible angle until I’ve achieved what I most desire… or until I have failed beyond any reason of doubt and all efforts are exhausted.

I’ve experienced both the dark and light side that hope has to offer. The paradox being that while the one hope has hurled me into the toughest times of my life, I rely completely on the other hope to pull me back out from the depths of darkness. With all the darker side of hope has taught you would think steer clear of it on a regular basis verses falling pray to it all too often. To this some might call me sentimental or a romantic, but I just know that no matter what I’ll always be a dreamer.

Thought journal: February 14th, 2011

7:02 AM
Is it that time already alarm clock. I could get out of bed right now. I probably should. I need a shower. If I were to get up now I could grab a shower and get ready, maybe looking nice will help today not suck.

7:03 AM
Nope, laying here feels too good, I’m going to school looking like a bum.

8:14
Man I messed up. I should have someone to spend today with. I can’t really blame anyone but myself for this. Why do I say the things I say? I wish he would text me back. Something, even if it was really mean, at least I would know he got my text. No, I’m not going to dwell on this, I have to get to school.

8:33 AM
I’m glad I made it to class, that test is going to suck on Wednesday, hopefully this review will help me know what to study. This test seems pretty daunting.

9:41 AM
Am I really having a bloody nose right now? What am I, 5 years old again? This bathroom smells awful. I really wish my nose wasn’t bleeding so I wouldn’t have to be in here. He still hasn’t text me. I know he’s busy. That’s why he’s not texting me… but what if its because of the awful things I said? I don’t really deserve anyone’s kindness right now.

9:45 AM
That girl was really nice to let me share her notes, too bad her hand writing reminds me of chicken scratch and I have no idea what she has written down. Muddling through these notes and adlibbing will have to do.

10:30 AM
Wow, note to self: never miss statistics class again.

10:35 AM
He’s still writing that equation on the board. Where did those numbers come from? What does that all mean? Is being able to do this stuff ever going to be useful? Oh no, he’s using the back up board. Should I be writing all this down? There isn’t enough room on my paper for this. Okay, look up instructions on how to use calculator, got it.

11:21 AM
Thank God school is over, I can’t wait to get home and back into bed, maybe I’ll pick up some food. Still no word. I shouldn’t let this bother me. Plenty of people are single, I’m not the only one. I don’t need anything special from anyone today, even if the lady in front of me has a bouquet of flowers and balloons, I don’t need that crap.

11:33 AM
I love Hug Hess, but I think their prices went up since I last came here. Oh well, its worth it. Maybe this will make my day better.

11:39 AM
Almost home. I can’t take the silence. I’ll just turn my phone off, at least then the nothing I hear will be on my terms.

12:15 PM
Mmmmm

12:25 PM
Maybe something is happening on facebook that can distract me from all this.

12:26 PM
Thanks facebook… for nothing.

12:28 PM
Man my face is broken out. I don’t usually have this many blemishes on my face but wow, maybe it isn’t such a bad thing that I’m single and hiding under the covers today, no make up could cover this mess.

12:30 PM
Really glad Spongebob is on, a nap sounds good right about now. I’ll just sleep this off.
Somewhere between 12:30 and 2:59 PM
Really weird dreams were happening. In one dream my dad was taking Chelsea and I to see a movie, if that wasn’t weird enough she was driving us through a snow storm in her little Hyundai and my dad was having us follow him. He went up ahead to park his truck, get out and direct traffic so we could safely make a left turn through the intersection. What does Chelsea do? She guns it.

On the snowy road we lost control and as the car was moving at high speeds toward the curb, I could feel us in the air, and flipping. We both went silent as I wait for the roof of the car to make contact with the ground, luckily it didn’t and we rolled at a high enough speed we landed back on our tires. But we were still on icy roads so we slid down this parking lot and toward a snow bank where the car finally came to a rest. I asked her if she was okay and she said yes, she had her seat belt on and so did I. I told her to put the car in park and not to move. My dad came running up and opened her door. He sounded really frustrated like he was going to scream at us but then he began complimenting my sister on her driving… weird. Then she asked if he was going to give her a kiss. He said, “no.”.. normal. But then he gave her a small kiss on the cheek… weird.

Somehow I wound up in a Chinese restaurant. Evidently I had left my drink there and I wanted to retrieve it. I guess we had eaten there earlier. I found some fortune cookies some guests had left behind so I ate some and read the fortunes… all the fortunes were foretelling of bad things to come. I began to wonder if that could explain why Chelsea and I were in that horrendous car accident. She was still back at the movie theater (I guess they had gone on without me?) so I set out in the snow storm for the movies to find out if she had kept the misfortune cookie and what it said.

In a later dream I dreamt that he finally contacted me… he called me and left me a voicemail telling me he wanted to explain to me his side of the story and why he felt like things happened the way they did. I was distraught that I had missed his call and was trying to call him back as quickly as possible, but he wouldn’t answer…

3:05
Its too hot. Stupid Valentine’s Spongebob. I don’t want to watch any Valentine’s crap today… Hey Toy Story is on.

3:33
I am so weak. I could never go a whole day without my cell phone. Moment of truth though, I wonder if anyone has anything to say. One text about shooting a commercial for my friend. My friend Chuck text me to let me know he got a new number… at least know he wants me to contact him. Oh wow, a phone call.

4:02
That was nice. At least one boy wanted to talk to me today. Oh wait, another text… a boy misses me. Too bad he lives in California… Two hey tell’s and a voicemail. He called. Well at least he called right? I really want to talk to him, but I don’t want it to just be a phone conversation. In text you lose the vocal tone and inflection, on the phone you lose facial expression and body language… I don’t know what to do.

4:09
Snack time.

4:19
Really? I walk downstairs and that’s when he calls? I was away from my phone for like 10 seconds! Now he wont answer. I swear I didn’t miss his call by that much… is it good that he’s calling? He probably just wants to get this over with so I’ll stop bugging him…

4:22 PM
I bet he does just want to get this out of the way. He obviously didn’t have time to talk when he called me a minute ago, if he had time to talk he would have answered … he’s calling.

4:39 PM
It was nice talking. Suspicions confirmed, I scared him away. He told me to remember that there are others that have it a lot worse off than I do and that I shouldn’t be moping. He’s probably right… maybe I’ll go to the gym. That might make me feel better.

4:45 PM
I’m going to the movies. This day doesn’t have to suck and I don’t have to spend it alone just because I’m single.

4:55 PM
How fated for this to be the first song that plays when my Ipod is on shuffle…
“Hoping I can run today and get away faster than ever from here.
Another night and who can say if leaving is better than living in fear?

Here’s to all the broken hearts tonight
Here’s to all the fall aparts tonight
Here’s to every girl and boy,
Who lost their joy
They let it get away!

You know its never too late
Get up and start all over again
You know its never too late
There’s gotta be a better way
Don’t settle for the cold and rain
Its not to late to start again
Find a way to smile
And never let it get away!”

5:58 PM
Ahh! Get ready faster!

7:03 PM
I’m late, I’m late, I’m late!!!

7:05 PM
Why on earth is the line so long???
Unknown time probably around 8:30
No not Minion! He can’t die!!!

8:40 PM
That was nice, I have good friends.

8:55 PM
Who does this guy think he is? It’s a green arrow, go you weiner!

9:12 PM
Hmm, Hug Hess sounds good.

9:34 PM
I forgot it was Monday, this is awesome, both my favorite shows are on.

10:09 PM
Feels good to shut my brain up.

10:51 PM
Back to the silence.

11:00 PM
What was I thinking texting him again. I should’ve known he wouldn’t respond… no, I can’t let this bring me down.

11:18 PM
Finicky phone. That’s all this is. No, he owes me nothing. That’s what this is. He doesn’t owe me a phone call. He said he would call me later, but maybe he was just saying it to say it… probably. I shouldn’t be sad. I wont be sad. I deserve this.

11:37 PM
Maybe I should be sad that tv makes me so happy.

11:45 PM
Narf, ha ha, that’s what Pinky used to say.

11:55 PM
I’m not going to hear from him tonight. I wish he would call like he said he would. I didn’t wash my face or change, I think I was hoping I would get to see him. What was I thinking.

11:59 PM
Day finally over… I survived.

Proclamation to the boys...

To every guy who has ever held my heart, carelessly crushed it, and made me to believe I am anything less than I am, I say this… you will regret it.

I know that I am not graceful. I am not one who will stand poised and demure with a flawless elegance. Nor will I shyly smile or politely bat my eyes. I am not reserved or speak only when spoken to. I wont skirt around subjects or act as though I’ve no wit about me. I will not dote. I will not fawn. I will not swoon. I’m not one to lie in order to save face and at times my honesty can appear downright brutal. I’m not dainty or petite. My mannerisms are not refined, nor have I ever once been considered prim or proper. The only thing polished about me are my toe nails, this week I painted them purple.

There are many things I am not, but I will tell you what I am. I am loyal to those I care about, and have known to sacrifice my own happiness if only for the joy of a friend. I am loud and opinionated. There is rarely a subject matter I haven’t made my stance clear on. I am passionate and animated. In my eyes even the most insignificant matters of this world deserve a flamboyant hand gesture or two. I am low maintenance and prefer sweat pants to my skinny jeans any day. I wear my heart on my sleeve, its easy to know if I’m happy or not. I can be cynical, although I try to remain positive. I am honest and will tell it like it is because I believe that any harm caused from the truth is far less a harm suffered then that caused by a lie. I am smart and I will never play dumb because I pride myself far too much on any ounce of knowledge I have acquired. I am witty and love to jar with best of them, if I can make you laugh, I will love you forever. I am competitive, I am aggressive, I am boisterous, and like all things in my life, I go all in or not at all.

… but I am also insecure and I just want to know, that beyond all the things that I am not, and considering all the things that I am… I just want to know that its okay. That I am still good enough anyway.

I am worth something. I am something special. I am someone worth spending time with. I will always be more then good enough…

So to every guy who has ever given me cause to believe I am anything less than I am, know this… if you don’t like it, you can shove it.

A Chance at Happiness

A glint and a shimmer
As a freshly fallen snow
An opportunity gleams
A low and humble glow

A chance at happiness
Has just walked in the door
Played tag with my eyes
Then left me wanting more

Fun and games lost their luster
Gravity has set in
This ones the real deal
Time to play for the win

Play it cool like a cat
Stay aloof and at ease
Can’t let him see me sweat
Or my mind under seize

A-game at all times
Be gentle and coy
It wont be as easy
To win over this boy

Like a sweater unraveling
A tug on a string
I’ve lost all control
And smothered this thing

He wants to flee
I would do the same
If I couldn’t breath
With someone dousing my flame

Needy and clingy
Words I detest to no end
Describe me so perfect
And have become my best friends

My excitement uncontained
Here I broke my new toy
I’ve suffocated happiness
Then chased away joy

To dream for someone special
Then scare them away from me
Me efforts all for naught
For I’m my own worst enemy

Surrender to the butterflies

Always present is this creature stalking her prey, seeking a substance worth sinking her teeth into. Much like everyone around I am scraping this earth, crawling and fighting to find someone special. I want to find that certain someone that fits into the mold that has been born from failed relationship after failed relationship. Each ex taught me some things I do want in a relationship and out of a partner, but they also taught me even more things that I don’t want. Even after a creature stumbles into my life and has made it through customs and checking, I find myself seeking one final detail… does he give me butterflies? A hastening heart rate, fluttering in the abdomen, who would have thought that such an insignificant physiological reaction would carry such gravity?

The reality is that to find such a specimen who is capable of causing such a physical reaction and also meets my specific needs, is a rarity. The sadness is that as rare as it is for me to find such a guy, I am much more likely to invest myself in someone who falls just short of my every want and desire. It is the guy who gives me butterflies that can crush me. The dainty flutters in my tummy are a far cry from excitement, but more a warning sign to turn and run.

There is a sense of control and empowerment when I settle with someone. At anytime I can choose to walk away from this guy and think that I’m not missing out on anything because he wasn’t everything I wanted anyway. But when I have someone who elicits that feeling deep in my abdomen every time I see its him calling, I have lost that much more control and surrendered to the butterflies. Accompanied with this loss of control is the helplessness that there is nothing that can be done to stop it. An ominous feeling looms ahead foretelling that when this is over, I will not be walking away shrugging my shoulders, but rather left in a heap hugging my knees and begging why I ever dared to dream of a different outcome.

With every time I have found myself left in this pitiful stupor, I still continue to hope that maybe, just maybe one of them wont walk away. Maybe just once I wont turn and run from someone who could be my everything. Maybe this time it will be okay to surrender to the butterflies…