even on the days I swear I’m over this, I still feel. denial, anger, denial, bargaining, anger, bargaining, depression, anger again. I’m getting closer. the next day I pull back. I think I’m there. then I’m not. in and out. back and forth.

that was always the allure of this for me. the rage, and then infatuation, vulnerability bonding me to you in trauma, and then the gnawing of the pull away. the rage. infatuation. vulnerability. feeling my feelings. that’s what I considered it, anyway. I loved acting on emotion. the instant gratification. that was what you were for me.

and that’s why I struggle with grief. it’s too irregular. erratic. takes too long to know if it’s working, the way instant gratification doesn’t.

but the truth is, so many nights, when I was with you, all I could think about is when I could get away from you. my anxiety would siren. I was scared of you. I was scared of this. I was scared of being let in, and letting you in, and so I didn’t.

I’d leave, go home, and I’d think. I’d process, dissect, pick apart what you said, remember because when you said it, I couldn’t process it then. go through social media to try to figure out who you are because I didn’t know how to ask you. couldn’t process shit quick enough in person. couldn’t be cowardly enough to bring it up through text. couldn’t see past my emotions. didn’t know what I wanted. I was afraid you weren’t going to live up to the expectations in my head.

and you wouldn’t have. I thought if I lived in my feelings, I wouldn’t have to face the fact that you couldn’t give me what I wanted. I wanted to live in my own reality, rather than in the reality of what this really was, and what this really is. the gray area. nothing truly black and white enough to evoke the rage, infatuation, vulnerability, trauma bond, gnawing that I felt.

but I’ve found that if you love feeling your feelings, you create feelings to feel. I buried you in emotions because I know they root deeper than facts. it was sick, but I loved it. the way you were based more on soul than what we did in real life.

I still feel crazy for that some days. I feel crazy for still thinking about you, like you were special, when I made you up in my head. I feel crazy when I still talk about you. but you know, some days, I really fucking like talking about you. muting your stories, then unmuting them during difficult moments even though I know I shouldn’t - that’s what I need those days. I needed the lessons I taught myself through you. I’m still learning them. that’s why I still go back to them some days.

but then I breathe. click out. it’s not a spiral anymore. my emotions don’t always have to overpower me.

I used to think I loved feeling my feelings. but acting on feelings isn’t really feeling them, is it? it’s the opposite, really. to get rid of the feeling, I gave it what it wanted. ran back for infatuation. that’s on me.

but the moments without you and my feelings controlling me are getting longer now. they turn into minutes and suddenly, it’s months later, and I’ve never felt further away.

i keep thinking about what i’d do if he ever came back and i know that, of course, i would be there with open arms for him. i still want to be the kind of person who would thank him for opening up in a way he never has before, because i know how hard it is to open up to those who don’t deserve what you put them through. it’s harder when you don’t have a reason. harder when you know i am here thinking i should have cared more. should have showed him more love. should have been there as if in a second, he could have been gone. i miss him. think that if i did all of this shit for him, maybe he would have liked me. think if i told him that i valued him, it would change things. but also,

i thought about putting words to this, about telling you how i feel, but it’s too much of a feeling. a knowing. a tingling. the words never sound right. not enough happened for me to feel this strongly. but the truth is, you could do anything and i would still be in love with your energy. it’s not logical, but i don’t fall in love with character traits. i don’t fall in love with people. i fall in love with the very first way they made me feel. that very first day.

and i’ve been thinking a lot about manifesting lately. about the energy i put out. the way being needy, even internally, has the power to turn people off. i’ve been thinking about the universe. about wavelengths. about the power of positive talk. when bad things happen externally that upset you, it’s so easy to harbor them internally and then put them back out. it can be an endless cycle of negativity. the way anxiety triggers anxiety triggers anxiety. the way, “i’ve been super chill - why don’t they like me?” is really radiating bad energy, because the universe doesn’t ever reward you for pretending. and people can feel how you really feel in less obvious ways.

i’ve been here before. i feel like i’m forcing something. last time it ended badly and i had to use you to teach me something. i want to let go. and not in the way that i want to get rid of this. like, if you texted me right now, of course i’d answer. be kinder. i feel it’s only right after all of this. i value the time i spent with you, the avenue of dramatics i went down with you; you taught me that i deserved better than what i had. i don’t usually believe in fantasy things, but i believe you came into my life at exactly the moment i needed you to, and you taught me something. maybe you served your purpose and i don’t need the lesson anymore. maybe you’ll come back to me. but now i want to be calm. i want to be as calm as i pretended to be.

so i’m working on my energy again instead of my character traits. i’m working on letting go instead of being so controlling. getting out into nature again. staying up writing at 2 am. i’m remembering that i was made for whatever is meant for me. feeling a connection with someone is not an excuse to ignore their qualities. missing the way you felt when with someone isn’t an excuse to settle for less. i’m gnawing the cord off with my teeth. laughing at all of the times i’ve thought - i can’t believe i let myself go through something that bad for me just to write a poem i’ll end up being embarrassed of.

I still hate being hopeful because when the glimmer is gone, it feels hopeless. but I'm not afraid to say this hurts because it deserves to. I don’t care if it’s crazy that I really liked you, or that I still do. the nagging thoughts still ask me what I could have done to make you stay. what did I do to make you feel this way. and how can I make it better. how can I make you realize that you can come to me for whatever. just tell me what’s wrong. what’s going on. I won’t mind, I promise. I'll swallow all of my pride, my emotions, for your comfort. and though sweet, that’s truly the part of me that’s craziest, and I am tired of being walked all over.

I know I did nothing wrong in this. I know the aftermath of instant gratification hurts more than the feeling of what could have been. I know that if someone ignores you, it’s because they don’t want to talk to you. that’s it. reaching out to you would only cause more turmoil at the end of this. if it was something I said, I can’t take it back. and if it’s because of something I am, I am better for it. is it another girl? I know I'd go through every one of her photos and compare myself to her. if you just need space, I’d have nothing to respond to. too busy with work? okay, I know texting only takes a second. I convince myself it doesn’t matter, I just want to be friends, that’s all, but I know that’s a lie because I’m not ready for it yet.

I’m trying to be in touch with myself again, but I've gotten so used to pretending, even I act shocked when someone asks me how I am. instead of answering, I'm apologizing for not pretending efficiently enough this week. instead of answering, I’m trying to divert the focus anywhere other than me. I’m trying to act normal, be normal, be the person everyone wants me to be. I’m trying to be grateful and stop hurting over nothing.

I've spent so much time with my unconscious mind that way. burying and burying until my thoughts spill over to my consciousness. when I was younger, I wasn’t as efficient at being silent, but picking my battles has made me quiet. there are only so many times you can spill your thoughts to the wrong person before they use it against you. and it hurts. it really does. so I shut up, stand tall, and try to be positive regardless of my mind and others trying to hurt me over little things. I know I am strong and I know I am not wrong and my conscious mind knows I shouldn’t even be hurt over people who don’t know anything.

so I shake my head and shrug it off. I’m not as good at that as I pretend to be. sometimes I can take my conscious mind off of my thoughts but they’re replicating underneath.

they say intuition is based on that, you know. why I can look at a person and just have this feeling they’re lying is based on the lies I've been told. that bad feeling in my stomach that I just can’t put my finger on about a person. and the way I know something bad is going to happen. I try to stay optimistic but it always fucking happens the way I think it will.

and so many times it feels like me against the world. so many times I try to rely on people and I end up getting let down. how do I become someone who stops being let down? how do I become positive without burying?

when you’re alone all that’s left is the chains around your neck. do you ever wish for once they’d be strong enough to keep you in. do you ever wish for once you could know what it’s like to be dead. do you ever wish for once you wouldn’t confuse this pain with it.

some people just make your life worth living. some people are the reason i’m still here. some people are the reason i rot like a flesh wound. some people feel like veins flowing like a river. it’s the contribution and dehumanization of people that make or ruin this.

you touch me and it doesn’t feel the same. when you’re so used to your feelings not mattering you really start to believe it. i don’t know how to make someone else feel how it feels to feel worthless if they’ve never felt it. i wish i could scream that it feels like this.

one scar for each way we don’t get each other in the way i once thought we would. some people you can wear your heart on your sleeve with and they’ll still say they didn’t know you had a heart. a scar for not special. a scar for not important. a scar for every time your life became a barrier you had to break through.

people don’t like thinking like me. people don’t like different. like maybe because someone else wouldn’t feel the way i’m feeling that means i shouldn’t be feeling it. maybe if i were anyone else i wouldn’t still be collapsing over this. maybe i love harder than anyone you’ve ever met. maybe i just have a more difficult time showing it.

isn’t it crazy. how i get offended when people don’t want me when i don’t want anyone. how i let you treat me well even on the days i want nothing to do with you. how i’ve turned into the villain in this story and i don’t know how to thank you.

and i’m used to it by this point, people blaming me for being stupid in a way they don’t blame you. but i don’t think i’m stupid. i still think it’s you.

and i don’t take it personally anymore. i’m happy those people have never been as lonely as i have been. i’m happy they don’t have to lie awake with our insecurities eating each other alive at night.

but there’s a difference, i think, between knowing you’re good enough and feeling it. between wondering why nobody wants you and people actually trying to get to know you. body counts. asking you out. the competition feels so real.

and i don’t expect people to know how it feels to hook up with someone who has cheated on you, either. to feel good enough. to feel good enough. god. it’s crazy. but i only feel good enough when i’m with you.

so i guess the truth is, this isn’t about you anymore. i’m not crying because i’m without you; i’m crying because without you, i have nothing in my future to look forward to. it’s easier to pretend i’d be happy with you than it is to imagine me with anyone else. being single for years does that to you, you know. i’m watching everyone around me settle down and wishing i was settling down with you only because i want to settle down too.

because when it comes between choosing you and being alone, i am always going to choose you.

but the truth is, i’m tired of being talked out of suicide by the same people who made me contemplate it. of always having to rip open my scars because you don’t know how to be honest. but i also know i was born more sensitive than the average person. that somebody’s harmless can make me fall on the floor again. i’m truly starting to believe my bones are made of glass. and it’s nobody’s fault, in the end. and no one knows how to make it better because we know it’s hopeless.

they say when you experience trauma, you’re supposed to let it out of you. that it’s the only way to make things better. but i’ve talked about it. and talked about it. and talked about it. and at this point, i am begging to forget it. because the more i talk about it, the more i realize it’s never going to change. that it’s been years now and i’m still in the same place i’ve always been in.