The memories are
strong, and my heart is so weak.
Say you love me, please?
The memories are
strong, and my heart is so weak.
Say you love me, please?
I am strong, beautiful, and worthy. I am independent, confident, and whole. There is no one who can take these things away from me because they are so ingrained into who I am.
I wasn’t always this way, but that’s okay. It takes time to grow into yourself. Then it takes more time to grow into your next self. I relish in this process. It’s painful sometimes, but it’s necessary. If you reject these changes, you remain stagnant. And if you ask me, that’s unacceptable.
I change from the old me to the new me when I have to, but I always try to settle into the current version as fully as possible. It’s important; I am who I am in this moment for a reason. I have things to learn, people to affect. And I never know when the next change is coming, so I always make the most of these seasons. Or I try to, at least.
I don’t want to be a liquid. I want to be solid.
I refuse to fill the role available. I will make my own role, and you will make the space for me to fit.
I feel weird. I want to be more specific, but I am at a loss.
I feel…on edge. Like, in a precarious place, perhaps… no, not the edge of a cliff. It’s more like… I’m trapped in a car stuck on train tracks. I don’t know when the train is coming, but I have to get out of here.
Okay, so description done, but why the hell do I feel this way? What is this a metaphor for?
My little cousin had her sweet 16 this past Saturday. It was a really nice party, and she looked beautiful. My mom made all the decorations by hand, and they came out stunningly. Everything was great until the very end, when dramatic events occurred. It could’ve been an episode in some novela.
I don’t know that everyone has reconciled yet–no one has updated me on anything. Maybe that’s why I’m on edge.
Or maybe it’s because I’m going a whole month without seeing Barlow since she’s on vacation. It’s easier staying on the outside of the depression bubble when I know I’ve got a therapy session every 14 days. It’s just two weeks–sometimes it’s difficult, but I always manage. Now, though, I’ve gotta wait 30 days. Thirty.
I have to deal with everything that happens in my life by myself until August 16th.
I’m sure I’ll be fine. I just… I know that I’ll need backup at some point, and there is currently no one to fill that role.
My singleness hasn’t really bothered me as much as it has in the past, but it is a bit difficult when I think about this time last year. Beau and I had just started dating, and it was like I was seeing the world more vividly. I was so happy, and excited about life.
Now, it feels like all the excitement lies in my future. Now, it feels like all I have is the work I must do to achieve my goals. And sure, I have fun, I go out with my friends, and those relationships are good ones, but… it’s not the same. There is an undeniable void.
I’m pretty good at ignoring it, though. So, I think that’s what I’ll continue to do while I do what I gotta do. That’s all I can do, right?
But also this:
I didn’t go to church yesterday. Bible study is off for the month of July. I have been neglecting to read my bible everyday. Basically, I’m slacking on my Christian duties, and it’s because I haven’t felt very godly recently.
My decisions for the past month were not of Him, and while I know I have grace, I still didn’t feel worthy to come before the Lord. Despite my lapse in Christian behavior, a small, desperate part of me continued to pray.
I called out to the Lord multiple times over the last four weeks, “Lord, please close the doors you do not wish me to walk through, and may the ones you do swing wide open.” Now, I said these words, but the larger, selfish part of me hoped He wouldn’t listen. I wanted to do what I wanted!
Thankfully, my prayer was answered anyway this past weekend. Sure, it took one last bad decision to convince me the Lord has more in store for me. Plus a conversation with my best friend to realize I was selling myself short. But, I am capable of so much more than I have been doing, so why was I defying both my logic and values to do what feels good in the moment?
The honest answer is that I’m human. I’m weak, selfish, and confused. However, if I take the time to empty myself of toxic thoughts and worldly desires, I can be filled with the light of the Lord.
He loves me.
I break His heart a million times over, but he still loves me. Except for my mom, I know I will never find another love like His. And all I can do to repay Him is try to honor Him in all that I do, and love others as He loves me.
God closed a door this weekend–two, as a matter of fact. And while I’m not quite sure where the next open one is, I know it exists, and I’m excited to go through it. Prayer works, y’all. You just have to keep your eyes and heart open to receive the message the Lord is sending you.
Until next time,
Words have been pushing
against the inside of my lips,
dying to dive from the depths
of my soul.
I can’t say them out loud,
so instead I let them flow
from my fingertips.
“Why not?” he whined.
“Come on,” I sighed, ” you know why not.”
“We don’t have to do anything, we can just talk.” I stared at him.
“And why can’t we do that here?”
“It’s just more private there!” He was frustrated now, a scowl on his face. “Fine!” he said, his voice raised.
“What do you want me to do?” I pleaded. He just shook his head, suddenly calm.
“Nothing, never mind,” he said simply. I got up from the couch an went upstairs. Janie’s room was open and empty, so I went in and sat on the bed.
What are you doing? I asked myself for the second time that night. You know you want to. Just do it, no one will ever know–his girlfriend sure won’t. Besides, he obviously likes you more than her, otherwise he wouldn’t be doing this.
I took out my phone and sent him a message, “Come upstairs.” I waited three minutes with no response. I checked downstairs and he was sitting on the couch, still cradling his beer. I went and tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned I told him to check his phone. He said he hadn’t gotten anything, so I whispered for him to meet me upstairs in five minutes. He said he had to go soon because his brother was waiting for him. Taken aback, I told him it was fine, just go. He didn’t move and I went back upstairs.
Sitting on the bed I was really nervous. Then a thought occurred to me. This isn’t my room. Silly, I know since it was so obvious, but I had forgotten. Technically, it wasn’t Janie’s either, she was just staying there. I went out to find the owner and ask to use it. She said, “Sure!” and showed me how to lock the door. She pulled out a futon for me so we didn’t have to use her bed. I wasn’t planning on going that far regardless. She left.
*Knock knock knock*
I got up to open the door, and there he was. I let him in and the shut the door behind him. I sat on the futon.
“So what’s up?” he asked
“What’s up?” He looked at me expectantly, eyebrows raised. “What do you think?” I was the exasperated one now.
“I don’t know, I thought maybe you wanted to talk?”
“You think I brought you to a room upstairs at a party to talk,” I repeated in a monotone.
“No,” he shook his head slightly, finally realizing what I wanted. He sat on the futon and I straddled him. I leaned in to kiss him and closed my eyes. I felt him grow harder as I bit his bottom lip before sticking my tongue in his mouth.
This kiss felt different, wrong. His mouth was too wet, we were sloppy. He stopped me. “How far is this going?” He was searching my eyes in my silence.
I slowly unbuttoned my shirt. Once it was off I got anxious. He spanked me, snapping me out of my thoughts. I pulled away from him.
“What, you don’t like that anymore?”
“I never really did, to be honest.” He looked confused.
“Okay… well, what do you like?” he asked.
“Pull my hair,” I said simply. He grabbed a hand full of my curls and yanked my head back. My heart sped up and I kissed him again, more aggressively this time. He unbuttoned my shorts and I took off his shirt.
His body was just as I remembered it, and the familiarity of it pushed the guilt out of mind. “Do you have a condom?”
The party was happening all around us, but we sat quietly on the couch. I watched as one guy tried to teach my friend Sweetie, a small Asian girl, how to dance bachata. She would have been awkward normally, but with the alcohol in her system she was determined to learn and followed him closely.
“Want a cupcake?” he asked me. I looked to my left and there he was: dark curly hair, perfect lips, brown eyes, and the longest eyelashes I’d ever seen. He held his Corona with both hands.
“Sure,” I replied. We jumped over the back of Janie’s couch and took three steps into the kitchen. He grabbed one of the vanilla frosted chocolate cupcakes Janie, Sweetie, and I had made for Harold’s birthday. We just stood there for a second, people walking back and forth between us. He let me take the first bite.
With the cupcake half finished we went back to the couch. I sat to his right and looked at my lap. What are you doing? I asked myself. He still has a girlfriend!
You’re not doing anything! I argued back. It’s just a cupcake!
“Here”, he said, snapping me out of my internal argument. He held his hand out, a bit of frosting on his extended index finger. I looked at him blankly. “Here,” he repeated, bringing his finger closer to me. I looked at him and covered the tip with my mouth, careful not to use my tongue, like that mattered. I looked away and swallowed, cursing myself for going along with his obvious flirting.
“Here,” I heard again. Without a second thought I wrapped my lips around his finger again. Dammit, Severn!
“You’re not going to give me any?” he asked, not meeting my eyes. I carefully scooped a bit of frosting with my index finger and offered it to him. I held my breath as he grabbed my hand and put his mouth on my finger. His eyes focused on my arm, but my eyes were glued to his. His mouth was warm and wet, his tongue soft. He extracted my finger slowly, sucking slightly until the frosting was gone. My heart hammered in my chest and I was tingling between my legs when I finally exhaled.
“Last one,” he said, his frosting covered finger three inches from his face. I leaned in closer to lick it off, and as soon as I finished he kissed me. It was a slow, soft kiss, the kind that started at my lips but spread warmth through my entire body. When he stopped my face was hot. He came in for another, but I turned my head.
“No,” I said.
“Come on, let’s go to my car,” he murmured into my neck.
“No!” I repeated, shoving him off, angry at such an offensive suggestion.
TO BE CONTINUED
Guys. I joined Bumble.
Full disclosure: I don’t actually know that I’m ready to date again yet. As a matter of fact, now that I think about it, I’ve never been “just dating”. I’m either in a relationship, single and lonely, or single and slutty. (Note to self: talk to therapist about this.)
Beau and I have only been broken up for about 5 weeks, BUT in perspective… That’s almost half the length of our relationship.
Yes, I thought I was going to marry the dude (you just know, right?), but the other person kind of has to be on the same page in order for that to happen. (._.)
So yeah. I’m not exactly ready to start dating; I don’t exactly know what dating entails, but I joined Bumble. It’s a fun time-waster, and I get a little ego-boost every time I match with a hot guy (even if I let the match expire by not actually saying anything to them).
I also think part of the reason I joined is control. I like having it, and recently I’ve felt like I’ve lost it. Bumble let’s me have all the control I want. Swipe whichever way I want, talk to matches or don’t–it’s all up to me!
Don’t get me wrong–I know there are lots of other arenas in which I can claim control, but hear me out here: This is the only one that attacked me and left my heart broken. So I feel that even if buzzing on Bumble (I just made that up) leads to absolutely nothing (which I’m sure it will), I can at least be assured that it was my decision.
#FakeAdulting for the win. Woo!
Oh, and best case scenario I meet someone and fall in love, but I’m not counting on it, haha.
“Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.”
Marley sent this verse to me yesterday. She told me I should lift this up to God in prayer and ask him to help me guard my heart, and to help me decide when a person is deserving of my love.
If you guys, even if you don’t know me, could do the same I would really appreciate it.
Because Marley is right. When I love, I love with everything I have, with my entire heart. It doesn’t matter if the relationship is platonic, familial, or romantic. If I love you, know that it is a fierce, all-encompassing love.
But I guess that makes me vulneralble, how could it not? And so asking God to help me figure out who I can and should give my heart to is necessary. It is so painful to love that fiercly and not receive the same in return. Sometimes the person just isn’t capable of it, sometimes they’re just not capable of it with me. Regardless, I can’t give my heart to just anybody. They have to be worthy, they have to be willing reciprocate.
I get it now, I have to slow down. Even if my feelings are painfully strong and obvious– like with Beau–I have to slow down.
When Beau and I went out that first time, I felt like God was with me, like he orchestrated the whole thing and was telling me, “Yes, this one. You are supposed to be with him.” His presence that night was just so strong. But even if that is what God was telling me, that didn’t mean, “Okay now plan the rest of your life together.”
I have to remember that being with someone, loving them, accepting them, and expecting them to do the same takes TIME. I’ve always been an impatient person… Now that I’m alone I suppose I have more time to work on that.
Guard my heart. Once upon a time I wrote a story about a dragon who guards my heart. When someone tries to get close the dragon roars his breath of fire, hardening the castle that is my heart even more, but the water from the moat around it (to keep people out of course) would splash and soothe the burns because I crave intimacy.
The thing is, when I wrote that story, I wasn’t thinking about how I actually behave in romantic relationships. As I said, in that case I’m all in–dragon be damned. I jump, eyes wide open to watch myself fall–first in love, then to my demise.
Seems silly now that I have a visual. Why would I bring that on myself?
Part of me knew something like this would happen. Every time I would thank God for sending me Beau, I would also make sure to tell Him that I was SO appreciative and PLEASE don’t take him away. Why would I even mention that if I didn’t know on some level it wasn’t going to last. We went wrong somewhere along the way.
It’s okay, though. I know God has a plan for me. Part of me still really believes Beau and I belong together, but I know I can’t just make that decision on my own. All I can do is pray that he sees it, too, that he sees just how perfect with and for each other we are, and pray that we find our way back to each other in that way when the timing is better. When we both know who we are and what we want. We can be friends again if nothing else (eventually). He said he doesn’t want to lose me, and I believe him. And more importantly I don’t want to lose him either. I know that he cares for me deeply, and we need as many people in our lives to love us as possible.
Also, I have to pray for God to reveal his plan to me when I need guidance. Because maybe I’m not supposed to be with Beau. Maybe God has other things in store for me. What I have to do now is focus on me, building my life, pursuing my passion and goals, and becoming the best, most complete me I can be.
Or at least I can try.
It’s unfair how quickly our worlds can change. It’s unfair that we have no say in some things.
Beau and I broke up. I’ve typed the words about 5 times already, letting some close friends know, but it still feels like a dagger is piercing my heart every time I read them to myself.
It all happened so fast. Basically Beau isn’t in love with me. He loves me, but he’s not in love with me.
I’m in love with him.
I was talking to my mom about it yesterday after it happened and I was trying to figure out how he could have missed the falling part. For me, it happened early, after a few deep, long talks and then the feeling grew stronger as time passed. I guess he needed more than a few deep, long talks.
It feels like he’s not giving us a chance. Not everyone is me. Some people take longer than even three and half months to fall in love with someone, especially if they don’t let themselves be vulnerable. It’s hard to be sure of something like that.
But I guess it’s easy to be sure you’re not in love with them.
He wants time to be selfish, to work on the things he wants to work on without worrying about taking a step back in our relationship to do the “vetting” we sort of rushed through in the beginning. If he was in love with me, figuring out how to do both would obviously be the way to go, but he’s not. But at the same time, I think that step we seemingly skipped is where he would have fallen. Not even trying now is what hurts the most.
He said that after he figures all his other stuff out he can go back and figure out if a relationship is what he wants. But fuck just any relationship, I want him to want me.
We talked so much about the future. About growing together and lifting each other up. Helping each other become the people we want to be, build the lives we want to have. We talked about our wedding day and company holiday parties and the new fitness program we were going to sign up for at New Year’s.
I thought we were doing great. Just last week we were talking about how happy we were and date ideas and coming up with a handshake. And then Friday there was a spat of sorts, Saturday the end seemed eminent, and yesterday it happened. Yesterday I lost one of the most important things I felt I had.
And that’s really it, I feel like I’ve lost him. He wants to be friends, but I told him I need space. Part of that is also the fact that he didn’t seem like he was hurting at all. I could barely talk with how hard I was crying, and he was just watching me, stoic, guarded. Does he not feel like he lost something, too? Do I really matter that much less than the other things he’s chosen over me? How can he be so emotionally removed from all of this?
I know that this isn’t my fault. I know that I’m fucking awesome, and I told him that, too. But that doesn’t change the fact that time and time again I am in this situation where the person I choose to give my entire heart to can’t seem to do the same. I’m tired of not being loved back in the same way.
I’m sick of being heartbroken.
I’m tired of not being the girl the guy falls in love with.
I DESERVE to be that girl.
Objectively I know this is the right thing to do. It sucks and it hurts, but I can’t sit here and wait for him. Even if our relationship isn’t his top priority it should at least be top 3! And if he can’t do that, we shouldn’t be together. I know I deserve better, and he knows it, too.
I just wish my heart would stop hurting. I just wish I didn’t have to go on this journey of finding my passion and figuring myself out alone. I was so set to do it with Beau by my side. And I was so ready to invest in him doing all the same things as well.
My heart is big enough to do all those things. It’s been broken three or four times before, but it’s STILL capable of all that.
But again, everyone is not me.
That’s just the reality of the world.