Life is a race, I’m not sure what we are racing to, whether its death or something beyond that. All I know is we are all racing towards a final destination. We are given a path to follow the day we are born; some of us stay on the yellow brick road, most of us don’t.
During our journey to wherever it is that we are going we meet people, people we want to punch in the face and people we want to cuddle up with. I remember when I first met you, running towards the end of adolescents, you made promises you never kept. You walked with me towards the very end and when you left I couldn’t manage to go on without you. I couldn’t see myself continuing without you beside me holding my hand and whispering sweet nothings into my ear to keep me going when I felt like giving up. So I fell down right where I last saw you and dug a hole of ‘safety’.
I filled my escape with memory’s and fears. It took months to find out that just because I was standing still didn’t mean everybody else was. I had mistaken the sound of footsteps above me for friendly voices. The day I realized people were moving and living and continuing their lives while I hid away hoping the hollow ground would keep me safe was when I realized I was hurting myself more than your last words to me ever did.
So don’t stand still. Don’t dig a hole and hide away with fears and memory’s. Keep going, I know its different and a lot more scary once they are gone and I cant promise, you will ever feel the same way again but I can promise you this; hiding away and stopping your life to grieve for somebody who doesn’t even care to be in your life anymore is not a sufficient way to live.
People are always getting mad at me for telling them “You don’t understand.”
You get so used to me being a dumb bottle blonde whose hair is a little too damaged, to realize that my hair isn’t the only part of me damaged. You start to listen to me, read what I write and look into my eyes when I speak. You cant understand how the girl making you question every life decision you’ve ever made is the same girl who asked what Obama’s’ last name was.
I don’t expect people to pay attention to me. I’m sorry for making you think and for lying about how smart I really am. I’ll let you in on something big; I’ve never wanted to be this way. I write down my thoughts for you hoping to pass them on let them escape and leave me alone. Day and night I lay awake pondering life. Wondering why he left. How did I fall for her lies. Why am I so stupid. Wishing I didn’t get away with everything. Hoping to get caught so I can be stopped. I promise, I don’t want to live this life but when the life you think I’m living is chasing me away I have no where else to go because you locked me out and now my escape plan has been ruined so I run around spilling drinks, catching fire to curtains and crying loudly hoping that you hear.
I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for hurting myself. I never realized you cared. I never realize anybody cares. and maybe in the high of the night I can convince myself you meant it last time you told me you loved me, but I always wake up knowing that your love has no meaning towards me. So next time I speak to you listen closer and read between the lines because before you label me as stupid try to remember some people hide between the black and white boundary’s of their story.
Afraid of love and death and scars
And I’ve come to this crazy conclusion that none of it will ever sum up the full potential of my life, and no matter how many beautiful boys break my heart, no matter how much grief I’ve gone through, no matter how many thin lined scars cover me from head to toe it will not make me anymore meaningful than I already am. But the sad truth is that the truth is just something you wished was a lie even though you sat there beside me crying Saturday night begging me to tell you. We both know you weren’t ready to hear it, and maybe that’s why it’s called the sad truth because it’s the bitter sweet taste of knowing you don’t have to doubt anymore but also realizing that you can’t change the truth or tweak it. It’s almost like those 20 second ads on YouTube they are too long to listen to but too short to skip and it almost makes you wonder if anybody else feels meaningful or if that’s something you accomplish seconds before inhaling your last breathe. Could it really be just you that feels this way? Is it possible for a world with billions of people to all at once feel alone even though we all know we are not the only ones alive thriving and surviving in this weird gravitational sphere filled with dirt and water they call earth and beg us to take care of and treat kindly which we can’t even do considering the amount of garbage we pour out onto the streets daily.
But really how could they expect us to take care of a big dirt ball when half of us refuse to take care of our own flesh and skin?
Submission. I believe I’m smart. I lack in productivity but makeup for it in diction, in short; I’m smart but too lazy to show it. Along with being lazy, and smart I’m also trusting. I trust everybody with everything; if a man on the streets gave me a pill I would take it without question. Like I said; I’m smart.
Now to think if I could trust a stranger that much, I must really trust the people I actually know. Now trusting people is both a curse and a gift. With my curse, I have fell through many relationships and been hurt by many ‘close friends’. With my gift, I have built strong, long lasting friendships. After years of being lied to, let down, and simply taken advantage of I have formed a fear. A fear that I feed and let grow in hope of it curing my curse but only ending up with constant … well fear. When faced with a similar situation our brain quickly runs through its most recent decisions, it prods at thoughts and wearily reaches to open new doors to new opportunities. We go through all the mistakes we made last time and try to sweep them up and recycle them into a beautiful masterpiece only to find there are always faults in thoughts, and decisions.
Multiple times I have been faced with the same situation; trust. I have decided nobody is upfront. Nobody comes to you for the first time, completely themselves. So now all we can do is hope they want something we have. And if not, then
be submissive and trust yourself out of fear.
“Sometimes you lose a battle. But mischief always wins the war” –John Green
Even as a young child I was mischievous, whether I was prank calling the entire P.T.A or spying in on my parents conversations, I was constantly getting in trouble and still am. I’ve found that being reckless and mischievous comes with its own problems and countless amounts of lost battles.
I used to be afraid that fear ruled my life. As if I was avoiding doing things I wanted to but was too afraid, so one day I told myself no more being afraid or scared. I will do what I want when I want. I’ve come to the conclusion this thought and or decision was a bad one. After making a handful or two handfuls of terrible decisions such as stealing my mom’s car at 3am to go see a really cute boy even though I had never before been behind a steering wheel, I decided this; fear is scary, scary is not always bad. We fear things for a reason; we fear spiders because they bite and hurt and could kill. We fear death because it ends us. Your fears are there for a reason do not starve them, because they will bite harder than a spider and ultimately become your demise.
At a certain age we all begin to wonder who we really are. I remember the first time I found myself alone, lost and completely forgotten. My best friends all started ignoring me on the same day and didn’t talk to me for years. My cousins who I was closer to then the sun is to the moon were sent away to a behavioral corrections ranch which would leave them severely traumatized for the rest of their life’s. I got scared before anything else; I had no idea how to be alone. I had lived my entire life surrounded by these people who were now taken away from me with no warning. My best friends since first grade deciding to ignore me for no reason left me questioning who I was and if the person people saw me as was really worth being. And with my cousins gone I had nobody to talk to about this dilemma. So I found comfort in the girl who I rode the bus with, Olivia. She found comfort in escaping. The first day I skipped school with her was not her first time skipping school, it was a new way for me to escape my problems and avoid my fears. We walked to target, the streets still iced over from the week before and it was really cold outside. I took a big red blanket and a book called ‘looking for Alaska’ We walked to her house and fell asleep on the couch after eating every snack we could find in her pantry which wasn’t much. That same day I came home and laying on my bed was a suitcase. My dad sat me down & explained that he was splitting up with my mom and going to stay at my aunts. At the time I didn’t know he hadn’t spoken to my mom or my siblings before talking to me. He gave me the choice, Him or my mom. My childhood home had been the victim of neglect, the carpets were full of pet hair & smelled of pee. I was 14 sharing a room with my slightly abusive little sister. It wasn’t a choice between my mom or dad it was a choice between that environment or a new one. There were too many memories and fears built up around that home. I left with my dad. When we got to my aunts I went upstairs and cried into my new red blanket. I cried because I wanted to go home. I cried because I wanted to talk to my friends. I cried because I wanted to see my cousins.
It took a few days for me to calm down and to let my parents’ problems fade in with my own. I started reading my book and I had never felt so understood. I kept skipping school and I kept stealing from target. Every night I would go to my aunts and lay under my big red blanket and my problems would become somebody else’s because I felt safe with Alaska and with my blanket and the comforting memory that the girl who rode my bus would always be there for me. After staying at my aunts for four months I was told we were going home so my parents could work it out. I was forced to move somewhere and here I had become comfortable and I began to feel safe again. but now I had to go back home and live under the roof which collapsed with fear and abandonment. I couldn’t understand it anymore; I didn’t want to be here. So I swallowed 52 aspirin hoping to fall asleep and wake up on a cloud without my family and everybody else that made me feel worse than I already did. But instead I felt crazy and more alone by the minute. I went into my brothers room and told him, he sat up, said “what?” and then laid back down when I didn’t respond. I decided to tell my mom, her & my dad fought for 30 minutes before finally taking me to the hospital.
Four months later I had a new best friend. One of my cousins had come home and we all kept up hope that the other one would come home soon. Never in my life had I been so grateful to be told I had meaning and to finally recognize this meaning. I’m not allowed to talk to Olivia anymore. Truth be told I never felt more important than when I was with her, I can forgive all of my friends who ignored me whether we are friends again or not. And now I can see my cousins when they come back. We are all meaningful and important and we all have a girl who rides our bus and we all have friends that will drop us and we all have cousins who disappear and we all have new best friends who mean more to us then the sun does to the moon, and we all have four more months. So don’t give up, don’t forget who you are and where you stand because one day all of this will matter and every choice you make is one more step closer to your next four months. Tonight Ill fall asleep after reading ‘looking for Alaska’ again for the sixth time under my big red blanket and wake up with a smile and hope that these next four months will only be another step towards becoming me.