Hey guys, so this one isn’t that great or profound or anything really but I just can’t sleep and I’m wondering about this. I’ll try to upload something for you to read either today or tomorrow. Sorry I haven’t posted. Things have just been crazy.
They say its time to deck the halls
It’s the time of year Santa calls
But for me it’s the same story
One that’s usually pretty gory
It involves a missing Mother Mary
And a Joseph that’s not so merry
With empty boxes under a tree
And no mindset full of glee
Watching the others open their gifts
As my gaze would slowly shift
To all their smiling faces
Receiving warm embraces
Caring mothers and doting fathers
Meanwhile mine couldn’t be bothered
A season of togetherness turned sad
Reminding me of all I’ve never had
Missing parents, missing presents, missing love
Put a check mark beside all of the above
Basing your worth off the amount received
Taking everything you have not to leave
Fake it till you make it, put on a smile
Be a good girl, you have to stay awhile
Even if your hands and heart are empty
It’s not like you really needed that many
I’ll think of Nester the long eared donkey
And watch the show just like a zombie
The poor creature alone and cast aside
Sounding so similar to my own alibi
Haunting child’s eyes holding back tears
But it’ll be okay, it’s just another year
Still, at night there’s no milk and cookies
Cause fair is fair, so Santa won’t get goodies
Sooooooo, I’m sorry I haven’t updated as much as I would like. I’m just going through some stuff which is normal for me but anyways I’ll try and upload more. I’ve just been trying to get this new job
I have worked out plus class stuff and personal life drama rama. I’m going to say sorry in advance though if some of the stuff in the next few weeks seems well, gloomy. But hey, most of the stuff on here is gloomy anyway right? Here you go though.
You’re not in love with me and I have actions to prove it
For you look at me with dead eyes and a solemn face
And I’m at the bottom, the very last on your list
And not once for me have you wasted a wish.
You’re not in love with me and I have the words to prove it
For you say “I love you” but not that you want or need me
And there’s broken promises like shards of glass on the floor;
A deep feeling within my heart saying I’m not the one adored.
You’re not in love with me and I have the exchanges to prove it.
Cause I can tell I’m not your favorite anything
And our conversations are dull and far too quick
They’re only skin-deep, spoken from closed lips.
You’re not in love with me and I have the questions to prove it
Because I lay awake at night wondering if I’m enough
Overanalyzing, critiquing and doubting myself
While you sleep peacefully not knowing I’m in hell.
You’re not in love with me and I have the loneliness to prove it
Since you can be standing next to me and feel a million miles away
Somehow in the moment but still completely disconnected
While the unfinished foundation just sits neglected.
Yes, you’re not in love with me and I have all this to prove it.
I’m not in love with you and I have the sadden heart to prove it.
Friendly reminder for those of you struggling to help someone who is weighing you down. Please don’t let them drown you right along with them.
He hears her scoff for the second time as she files her papers and looks out the window across the main street courtyard. “What?” he finally asks.
She just shakes her head, tearing her gaze away from the window and stacking more files.
He looks out the window again and spots it now; a random couple engaged in way too much PDA on a bench outside. He chuckles, “That time of the month for you?”
She slams some of the files down on the floor, sitting up straight and shooting daggers in his direction. Again he chuckles and backs away from her desk, arms raised in defeat. “When you wanna talk about it, you know where to find me,” he says while taking a seat at his desk.
She slams a file drawer and ignores him. For a moment she thinks about quitting. She hates this pre-wedding season for the paper. Nothing but random wannabe cupids come in and request event coverage for their proposals. Still aggravated with the benchwarmers outside, she gets up and goes to the window, pulling the blinds down quickly. “Seriously, can’t they maul each other elsewhere?”
She sits back down at her desk while he gets up and pulls the blinds back up. “If you close those now, people are going to think we’re closed.”
“They can read the sign on the door.”
He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, “Really?”
She just shrugs and goes back to busying herself with her paper work.
“I think they’re kinda cute,” he observes while looking out the window.
“I give them another month; then we’ll probably see one of them with someone new on the exact same bench.” She remarks, not looking up from her papers.
“You know your relationships might last longer if you quit betting against others’.” He suggests.
She shoots another warning glance his way before picking up another file and looking through it.
“How was your Valentine’s weekend with what’s his face?” he steps forward asking, a slight smirk on his face as he waited expectantly for his response.
“Don’t act like you don’t know his name,” she replies without looking up, “And it was just like any other weekend.”
“You guys didn’t do anything?”
“You mean something other than Netflix and chill? No.” she answers irritation rising in her voice. “Didn’t you have an interview to go do today or something?”
“Nope,” he replies and takes a seat in his swivel chair, spinning it around before bringing it closer to her desk. He props his feet up on the edge and looks at her expectantly.
“Can I help you?” she asks.
“What’s eating you up Noob?”
“First of all, I’m not a noob,” she replies, “If you remember correctly I graduated with honors when you didn’t. And I think you’ve known me long enough to know its me just being my normal ‘bitter bitch’ self. That’s all.”
“You’ve been a bitter bitch since high school. I’m asking what’s up with today.”
She sighs and leans back in her chair, tossing her pen and glasses onto the desk. “I’m just sick of it ya know? Of the boring and mundane. I sure as hell never intended to end up here, but I thought maybe if I had a decent relationship that didn’t make me feel so small and insignificant……. I don’t know, I thought it would make up for that. Look can we just drop it?”
“Why? I thought we were making progress.”
“How about because it’s dumb? Seriously it’s a pointless conversation. Stuff like that doesn’t happen for girls like me.”
“What stuff?”
She laughs half-heartedly, “Romantic shit, I guess. Look it’s an illusion okay? It’s something they shove down the throats of young girls at an early age in preparation for the literal dick that is bound to be shoved down their throat later in life.”
“I can see the title now,” he mocks, “Dicks Down Daughters’ Throats.”
“Don’t be a smartass.”
“It’s catchy.”
She looks at him defeated. She considers arguing her point but instead picks up her glasses and begins working again.
“You know, all the years we’ve known each other, you’ve never told me why you have such dramatic issues with this stuff. I mean,” he sat up continuing, “You mocked every couple you saw in high school. You even mocked me and my girlfriends. Openly, I might add.”
“You nearly broke your damn neck asking a girl to homecoming, remember? I think I had a right to mock that.”
“Noted,” he agrees, “but what about the other stuff?”
She sighs, setting her pen down again. “As long as I’ve been alive I’ve never seen my parents exchange gifts with each other ‘just because’ or hold hands in public. I never heard them compliment each other; just always tear the other down. Love was supposed to be this great thing that brought them together but it just lead to me growing up in a broken home. You seriously expect me to have faith in romantic notions despite these facts?”
“Maybe you’ve just been with the wrong guys,” he suggests, “They can’t all be like that. How long have you been with this new guy now?”
“Couple months, why?”
“Why stay with him if you don’t believe in the ‘romantic shit’?” he asks in return.
“Weren’t you just listening? That’s the whole point I stay. I don’t believe in it. Which means that I don’t expect him to do anything, which means I don’t set myself up for disappointment. We live out the same boring routine day after day, week after week because that’s how this really works. They call them fairy tales for a reason you know? They’re all tall tales; they don’t really happen.”
“Not to girls like you,” he adds, circling back to her initial point and angering her slightly.
He didn’t have to rub it in her face she thought quietly. He would never understand. He grew up in the perfect home environment with the perfect family where his mother received pearls for every anniversary and diamonds for every Valentine’s day and random gifts in between ‘just because.’ It made being friends with his mom on social media unbearable to the point she had to practically block her as she watched her upload at least one cute photo of what her husband had done for her week after week. Or whatever she was doing for him. His parents had understood the importance of working together to build an empire, which was why their prodigal son already had his student loans paid off while she was still struggling to get hers under control.
“Why don’t you just suggest to Frank that he be more romantic?”
“So you do remember his name,” she replies.
“Don’t dodge questions.”
“Don’t ask stupid ones.”
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“Telling him to do that stuff defies the point doesn’t it. If he doesn’t want to do it on his own then I don’t want him to do it. There’s no sense in making myself out to be some needy bitch on top of being bitter. Like I said, it’s just easier to keep quiet and not expect anything. The day he does something on his own, I’ll probably die of shock if you want to know the truth.”
“Well you see, there’s a problem with your theory,” he begins, pulling his chair closer to hers, then turning her to face him, “if you really meant all this; you wouldn’t be so worked up about it. You obviously expected more. And as your friend I believe you deserve more but the real question is……..are you going to settle or do something about it?”
Being silent
Asking questions
In my head
Without direction.
Getting closer
Power to hurt
Widening distance
Making it worse.
Fear and doubt
Cationic hearts
Being rebuilt
Falling apart.
Trust and hope
Idle hands
Slowly healing
Please understand.
Taking it slow
Being cautious
Guards and cages
Breakable promise.
Sparks and embers
Dying flames
Begins the struggle
Keep it ablaze.
Keeping calm
Invisible fighting
Never before seen
Read the writing.
Gut instincts
Blindly follow
Never intended
To feel hallow.
Sleepless nights
Darker days
Riding it out
Choosing to stay.
Skin to skin
Brand new journey
Ignoring statistics
Despite the blurry.
“Hey,” he calls out, “nightmares again?”
She doesn’t answer, simply nods while keeping her eyes on the corner of the room. She’s pulled her knees up to her chest and has been sitting there hugging them for what feels like awhile now. She’s not sure how long exactly. She didn’t want to wake him. She never really had that issue before. Everyone else around her had always been heavy sleepers, never noticing when she got up to stare blankly into the darkness.
“How bad this time?” he asks, sitting up and rubbing the sand out of his eye.
She shrugs. For a split second she considers telling him. After all, it’s not like she doesn’t remember it. On the contrary she remembers everything. She remembers the beast, and its menacing gaze. She can recall its breath on the nape of her neck and its hungry growl. How it sniffed her out so easily, how it sniffed him out so easily too. The blood curdling scream as it devoured him and he himself became one too, and how then there were suddenly two of them chasing after her.
“You can tell me.” He tries to assure her while pulling her close. She lets herself breathe him in, a reminder that he’s real, that he’s not a monster, that he doesn’t smell like sulfur and ash like the beast from Hell.
Deep down she knows she can, but it just seems so damn unfair. It’s bad enough that she’s being punished by the past. Why should she bring him down with her?
He rubs her back, massaging her tense shoulders gently in an effort to soothe her. She lets him hold her but wonders if he can really shield her, if she can even shield him. That’s the whole issue here, isn’t it? He can kiss her, but can he heal her? He can love you but can he save her?
It doesn’t matter. It’s not his job to. He didn’t sign up for this, it shouldn’t be his problem she reminds herself.
Besides, that isn’t the issue, that isn’t the root of the problem. The problem is there’s a beast that was once an innocent little creature she tried to save that ended up biting the hand that fed it. And even after she managed to find the strength to put it down and pull the trigger, it still found a way to torment her.
He presses his lips to her temple as she finally tears her gaze from the shadowed walls. The seasons had long since changed since the living nightmare, but yet her own walls were still partially up. Though she had let them down for the most part, she was still struggling to let them continue their fall.
She rationalized it in her head; that she was protecting herself, that she was even protecting him. There were parts of herself that she still didn’t show; there were parts of him that she still didn’t know. This seemed like all the reason in the world to keep it up. She already knew from past experiences that she was capable of handling anything, but what about him? What if he couldn’t handle it? Handle her? Handle the details of the nightmares? Here lately they involved him more and more, and they usually consisted of him turning too.
“Are you okay at least?” He finally asks.
She thinks about lying, about saying she’s fine and leaving it at that. Considers faking a smile and pulling away from him just to lay down and pretend to go back to sleep. It would be so easy but she can’t bring herself to do it. After fighting this war alone for so long, she couldn’t help but get lost in his comfort, taking it in like a drug.
So instead she lets another piece of the wall fall down, in bits and pieces like it had been since day one, and shakes her head no, allowing him to lay back and pull her down with him so she can rest her head against the calm of his heartbeat and maybe, just maybe, it’ll play her the right type of lullaby so that she can finally sleep all the way till morning peacefully.
Hey Heathens soooo I thought I was gonna have some “ohmygsoh look at me” type news today but eh. The powers that be and all that are up to some twists of fate. Anyways, I just want to be nice and stuff since you’re all fellow bloggers too and stuff and I would hate for you guys to get suckered so here we go.
Yesterday I got this thing in the mail yesterday right? It was from the National Association of Professional Women. The letter is congratulating me on my hard work on the site and making me all warm and fuzzy saying I can go online and have a free 2015 membership. I was all happy and go-lucky thinking “hey, I’m finally getting noticed!” Then it kind of dawned on me that the way it was worded made it sound like I myself had applied for it which of course I didn’t. Then I thought about it more and was like: how did you guys even get my address???
I told a few close friends about it until finally one said it sounded fishy. Did some research and ha wouldn’t you know it? He was right. This woman told her story and she went even further than I did, to the point where she almost gave them about $700 bucks. I’m not sure if any other bloggers here at WordPress have been contacted by them or not so I figured I’d share with you guys as a warning. Stay safe and avoid scams guys. We work too hard on this stuff to give it up without a fight.
Think Existence 