Staying Strong

Go into the arts. I’m not kidding. The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow , for heaven’s sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.

“I didn’t see it coming,” she admitted. “I talked about it a lot. I said it wouldn’t be a big deal, that it wouldn’t bother me as much as everyone thought it would. But I wasn’t ready for it when it happened.” She closed her eyes, remembering the moment as if it were a movie projected on the back of her eyelids. “The text my best friend sent me. It was simple, asking if I followed some random girl on Instagram. I thought it was something else—anything else. But then she said it. ‘I think he’s dating her.’” She opened them to look at me. “I wasn’t ready for it. You need to be ready for it, okay? Because if you’re not…. it will destroy you, like it did me.”

EIGHT THINGS THAT KEEP ME UP AT NIGHT i.) How many times can you fall for the wrong person before you give up on finding the right one? ii.) My mother and father are only together because of their children. If love is founded on consideration for others, I want to be selfish. I want to love because I do, not because I have to. Does that make me a bad person? iii.) The last time we talked, I told you to never call me again. You cried and then you told me I had used you. It hurt me to think that it was only my fault as if you had never been the one to ruin me. iv.) My friend is in love with someone who abuses him. He doesn’t see it but I do. I know the abuser and they are not a bad person. v.) Physical scars heal faster than emotional ones. A cut on my leg is jagged and bloody, a crevice stitched into my skin. Imagine if I could examine my heart. vi.) What if I never should have left her? vii.) I haven’t been with anyone since the breakup. I don’t know if it’s because I don’t want to or if it’s because I can’t. It’s hard to tell what you’re feeling when you’ve made yourself numb.  viii.) It scares me to think about loving again.

I always used to think that missing someone is the worst kind of pain a person could possibly feel. But it was 7 months after you left that i realized, missing some hurts, but knowing you’re not being missed by someone you can’t breathe without, kills you.

I firmly believe in small gestures: pay for their coffee, hold the door for strangers, over tip, smile or try to be kind even when you don’t feel like it, pay compliments, chase the kid’s runaway ball down the sidewalk and throw it back to him, try to be larger than you are— particularly when it’s difficult. People do notice, people appreciate. I appreciate it when it’s done to (for) me. Small gestures can be an effort, or actually go against our grain (“I’m not a big one for paying compliments…”), but the irony is that almost every time you make them, you feel better about yourself. For a moment life suddenly feels lighter, a bit more Gene Kelly dancing in the rain.

Lush Giveaway! 😊🌻

you should never find yourself having to convince or beg someone to treat you the way you deserve to be treated.

And I hope you realize just how rare she was. And I hope you still think about her from time to time with a mixture of regret and nostalgia. She was worth it, you know. But she’s not going to chase you. A girl like that moves at her own pace.

“I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve that.” “No…I kinda did.” He looked at her, puzzled. “I…dont’ think I understand.” “I knew he was hurting me,” she continued. “I knew he wasn’t treating me right. I knew I deserved better…but I stayed anyways. Sometimes you love someone, you love them so much, that you let them hurt you. I wanted him to touch me, even if it made me bleed. I wanted those seconds of happiness even if it meant a night of tear stained pillows. In my gut, I knew it wasn’t right, but I’d spend hours making excuses just to try to feel it was. I put myself second to put him first…and I thought…hey…maybe one day he’ll do the same for me.”

There will always be a date, a movie, a smell, a place or a song, that reminds you of them.