Thursday, December 27, 2012

Friday, December 21, 2012

If two past lovers remain friends, they are either still in love, or never were.

What is being in love? Being in love is when you continue to love somebody even when there is no chance of that love ever being returned.

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

The Unparalleled Discipline of Letting Go

"Let it go."
My favorite sentence and the hardest advice for me to follow.

I cannot tell you how many times I've tried.
I cannot tell you how many times I thought I learned my lesson and was ready to move on.
Maybe this time is the end, or maybe not.

Often times, I get caught up in ridiculous hopes and go over perfect memories again and again and again.
I'll "allow" myself to feel bad for a day... then that day turns into a week which turns into two weeks and eventually the knot in my heart reaches Gordian sizes and I feel like all progress has been lost.

Honestly, the only way to truly let it go is to turn to the Savior.
As many times as it takes.
As many times as you forget.
Trust me.
He'll be there every time.

But for me, letting go takes extreme discipline.
I cannot listen to remotely sad or reminiscent music.
(This cuts out basically almost every female singer I listen to. Sara Bareilles, Ingrid Michelson, Christina Perri)

I cannot open my old journals.
I cannot look at pictures on facebook.
I cannot tell every story I want to.

Honestly, this discipline makes me so much happier. Truly. You want to be full of joy? Turn to the Lord. Not once, not every little while, but always.

It takes work.
It's easy to give up and daydream again.

But letting go means taking control.
Read that sentence again.

Letting go means taking control.
Taking control means growing up.
Growing up (contrary to popular belief) means finding greater joy.

Happiness happens inside of you.
It's not always getting what you want, and it's not waiting for a little bit and then getting what you want.
Happiness is when what you have is what you want, because you know it's what you need.

Take control of your human heart. Let it go. Turn to the Lord. Find true joy.

It's well worth the discipline.

Once you've truly moved on, you can pull out that Taylor Swift CD again. You can think of your stories and laugh instead of wanting to relive them. That's when you know you've truly let it go.

Friday, December 14, 2012

I stared at the ceiling in my room, unable to even fathom sleep. During the day I could sometimes ignore it, sometimes shove it aside--distract myself with other things. But when the lights were out and I was alone, the thoughts came and I couldn't stop them.

Thursday, December 13, 2012

An Open Letter to My Favorite Douchebag

 Dear Favorite Douchebag,

I am writing to you to end our little FWB relationship. It was fun until you turned into a douchebag. Here are some reasons why you’re my favorite douchebag:
You’re such a good liar. Or that’s what you seem to think. You and your “sorry I didn’t have my phone on me” texts can’t fool me anymore. I’m a girl and I have FBI-level cyber stalking skills. I saw you tweet (via mobile) those dumb lyrics to a song you were listening to. I saw on my Instagram activity feed how you liked that bimbo’s photo. The new photo you just filtered the shit out of even popped up on my Instagram news feed.
Telling me you can’t meet up because you “have an early meeting tomorrow” is also a big pile of steaming crap because you never wake up before 1 in the afternoon. 
Yeah I’ll admit the sex was pretty good. Okay, really good. But get that thing away from me.
Mind games
The biggest reason you’re a douchebag is because you play mind games with me. Don’t you dare text me at 2 am asking “whats up” and then tell me you’re “too tired” to hook up. What was the point of that? I’m pretty sure I’m already borderline crazy but you bring out the Alanis Morissette crazy in me. We are supposed to be FRIENDS with benefits. You can’t just treat me like shit and expect me to come crawling back (even though I do).
Even though I hate your guts right now, I want to say thank you.
Thank you for making me hate myself so much for crawling back to you every time.
Thank you for turning me into a mega stalker.
Thank you for transforming me into a crazy, jealous, bitter bitch.
But mostly, thank you for showing me I deserve more.
Your (Former) Friend with Benefits.
Ps. Your dick’s so small, you could screw a pasta strainer.

Saturday, December 8, 2012

Because it's important.

Self harm is serious. Five cuts or a hundred, scratched or deep wounds, barely visible or scars for life. The pain that a person feels who takes that blade to their skin is not determined by the seriousness of their scars. They all kill their pain with pain. Every cut tells a story, and behind every single one of them lays more pain than someone from the outside could ever begin to understand. The smallest scratch could hold hours of tears and hatred; the frustration and hopelessness can't be measured in blood. They will all see their reflection in the mirror and every day be reminded of what they have done to themselves. They will all make excuses for wearing long sleeves, or not going for a swim. They will all know both the reliefs and the regrets of this brutal addiction. Self harm is a disease of the mind, and the amount of scars on the outside does not show the amount of suffering on the inside. 

Wednesday, December 5, 2012


My unsaid words are weighing me down.
I've been trying to let things go, to not worry about anything.

I thought my troubles would float away like balloons.
But they don't.

They stick to my skin and create this crust and are cutting off my air supply.

It's true that not everything has to be said, but I'm not saying anything. My throat is clogged with the feelings I swallow.

I used to be so open. I used to be transparent. But glass is vulnerable; glass is flimsy. That's what I thought, anyway.

People often describe me as brave. Courageous. I jump off bridges and eat strange food and  kill spiders, but that doesn't make me courageous.

The word "courageous" comes from the Latin word "cor" which means "heart". Being courageous involves putting your heart on the line even if it terrifies you. Courageous means following what your heart tells you. Courageous means not hiding or being ashamed of your feelings.

I'm trying so hard to not be dramatic that I'm losing my courage. I fear to say what's in my heart because I'm trying to be un-childish. Un-emotional. Un-whateverIwas.

The word "vulnerable" comes from the Latin word "vulner" which means "wound". Being vulnerable means showing your wounds, exposing your Achilles Heel. Allowing your enemies and your demons to see your soft spot.

So often we look at vulnerability as a bad thing. As something to avoid. We see vulnerability as a weakness.

But if we build our walls so thick that our enemies can't get in, neither can our friends. If we build our walls so thick that nothing can hurt us, then we can never escape ourselves.

I've been trying so hard to block up every crack in my wall of invulnerability that I've sacrificed my courage in the process.

I'm going crazy in my self-made citadel with only myself for company.
I'm trying so hard not to care, not to sweat anything, not to feel any sadness.
I'm drowning in the feelings I've locked in.
I built a submarine to keep myself safe, but I'm running out of air and I feel a drip drip drip from the ceiling.

I've buried myself in Green Gables and Downton so that I don't have to feel my own feelings.

I've lost my vulnerability, but I've also lost my courage.

It's hard to find anything more terrifying than the loneliness that comes when I'm on my knees crying and sobbing and I discover that I've lost the ability to be honest with myself.