I wish I was the type of person who could smoke weed and enjoy it.
I wish I was the type of person who believed in God.
I wish I was the type of person who loved going out partying.
I wish I was the type of person who loved to try different make up styles.
I wish I was the type of person who could eat whatever they wanted without getting sick.
I wish I was the type of person who didn’t secretly care what people thought.
I wish I was the type of person who people couldn’t live without.
I wish I was different.
But I’m not. I’m me.
I’m the type of person who gets so absorbed in books that the world melts away.
I’m the type of person who slouches when I sit.
I’m the type of person that loves old coffee shops.
I’m the type of person who prefers my own company.
Mixing paint colours is satisfying to me, as is writing poems and reading unpublished fiction.
I like rainbows and rainy days and splashing in puddles and laughing my worries away.
So what, if I’m not, everything I wished I could be. I am me, and that’s okay.
They tell you that you need to open yourself up to it. Experience it for exactly what it is. Trust in it and let it consume you. Let it take over every ounce of your skin and force your mind into the darkness. Just breathe, and feel. And when it’s all over, and trust me when I say that it will be over soon, it won’t last for forever. When it’s all over, you’ll stand up and wipe away your frustrated tears for the last time. Your self-worth will be so obvious, you’ll wonder how you ever let them treat you that way. Once it’s done, your soul will shine and radiate peace. Once you’re over them, you’ll be free. But here’s the catch, you can’t be free or at peace until you’ve felt it. So here’s your sign. Open yourself up to the bitter consequence of love and let the pain consume you.
Vibrant, green and full of life is nature all around. Petals grow and wilt, and fall to lifelessly the ground. Leaves turn golden before they’re brown, and red in the fall. The weather gets warmer before its colder, but this isn’t new to us all.
For the world will change and sometimes it’s hard. And things will grow and occasionally fall apart. But that’s what happens in the world we see. Change is sometimes scary, but always necessary. So embrace your change and pay attention to what you have. For what you have might become what you had and you might not even notice.
And you’re stuck in a rut and you’re wondering what the point in all of this is. What’s the point of pain? Why would anyone put themselves through this agony? Because eventually they might find someone? Why would anyone let their heart break over and over and over again. What’s the point? And you’ll scream through the tears as you drink from a half empty vodka bottle and I’ll never know the answer. I’ll never know the right thing to say. I’ll just hold your hand and smooth down your hair and I’ll wait for you to fall asleep. Where the pain subsides and the peace takes over, if only for a little while. And I’ll wait, and wait, and wait. I’ll wait for your heart to mend, for the damage to fade and for your happiness to reappear. I’ll make you smile and I’ll make you laugh and I’ll wait. And when you’re ready. When we’re both ready. I’ll look so deeply into your eyes that I’ll be able to speak to your soul and I’ll tell you what I have been dying to confess since the beginning. What I’ve held back and bit my tongue over a thousand times. I’ll tell you that I love you. That I always have. And that I always will. And I’ll wait. I’ll wait for your response. And I’ll be scared, damn. I’ll be fucking petrified but I’ll tell you anyway. I’ll tell you because at the end of the day, I’d rather let it out, than let my secrets destroy me. And I’ll hope, that you’ll be able to see how good I would be. How loyal, honest and adoring. I’ll hope you’ll smile and wrap your arms around my neck and we’ll be happy. I hope, I hope, I hope. But until then. Until we’re both ready. I’ll sit by your side, and hold your hand while you cry. I’ll tell you that it will be okay, because it simply has to be. We have to be.
Or else, what’s the point?
She was used to nervous behaviour, by then it was a large part of who she was. She carried her anxiety around with her everyday, in a little box inside of her heart. And it didn’t matter how hard she worked to open it, to set it free and be okay again, the seal was impenetrable.
Until one day, she went to the beach.
It was the first time she had seen you alone. The first time she had danced in the sand to the sound of the waves. The first time she had watched the stars from the comfort of a blanket. And the wind grew stronger and forced her hair to fly. But you lay with her, protecting yourselves from the elements and listened to the waves. And for the first time, in what she thought to be a very long time, she put the box down. She didn’t try to open it, didn’t try to break it, she just let it be. And the sound of the waves that crashed into the sand, rid her of the fear that clouded her mind. Rinsed her of the anxiety, for just long enough, that she was able to breathe. And she looked at you, with a smile on her face, only to see you already watching her. And she asked if you wanted to leave as the wind acted violently, but she hoped you’d decline. Which of course you did, as if reading her mind. You said it needed to be perfect and she questioned it, but you just smiled at that was enough. And under the moonlight with stars for company, you both lay in the sand and listened to the waves crash, and you had your first kiss of many. Despite being a writer, she could never truly describe how if felt, and get it right. But when you drove her home and tucked some hair behind her ear, you kissed her goodnight and that was it. She lay in bed that evening thinking of you, and forgot to remember the little box inside of her. She didn’t notice then, but her little box full of anxiety and sorrow, had the smallest of gaps. Down where the edges once met, now showed space for hope. The box, was beginning to open.
And if there was nothing else in this world she should thank you for, she thanks you for that.
Liking someone new is hard. You’re not quite used to his manners, the way his eyes light up when he’s looking at you, or how he always grabs the check. It takes your breath away when he’s selfless and doesn’t ask for anything, just to make you happy. But you’re not used to it and the whole time you’re wondering what his end game is. Wondering why he’s being so good to you. And if he does anything even slightly unpredictable, your guard is there, reminding you of the pain you’ve felt before. It convinces you that you don’t really like him anyway, that he’s not that special. Except when you’re with him, then he’s perfect. But it’s still there, the doubt. And you question everything, because honestly why would anyone ever treat you so well? Past relationships have taught you that you’re not worth it, so why even consider it? Your walls are up and they’re built so high. They’re built to keep everything away, the pain, the heartbreak and unfortunately, love.