welcome to my confessional

I've never felt this alone before. And it hurts. It hurts physically. And I can't tell them that because its selfish to put that burden on them. But they make me feel calm and excited and happy. Their presence is enough. And I mean this all platonically for I know they would not love me as I know I could love them. And that is okay. Because to lose them would be rattling to the core. And I know that it is silly to be so reliant on another person but I cannot help it. Perhaps it is my fear talking. I am not afraid of being alone, but I am terrified of being lonely because I know what a horribly empty feeling it is. I don’t understand how one person can make such a dramatic difference. I don’t feel this way with any of my other friends, so how has this one person fucked everything up so horribly so quickly. I met them less than a month ago and yet I am stuck here wishing I could know them for eternity.

if someone were to ask me what im passionate about, i suppose they would expect an answer like 'art' or 'reading,' and i would probably lie and say just that. the truth is, while i enjoy both of those things immensely, i am not passionate about them. when i say passionate i mean that when you think of that thing, it makes you so happy you cannot help but smile... it fills your whole soul with excitement and you look forward to doing that thing or seeing it or simply being around it. sometimes i will answer honestly and say 'music,' but then they want to know why, and i cannot adequately explain how music makes me feel because it goes beyond any words i could conjure up that won't sound ridiculous. I could say that it makes my heart happy, or that it gives me serotonin, but those are only echoes of the truth. i have often thought of it as a physical sensation - it makes my hands tingle and my breath catch and my chest fill with some invisible force. to be in that moment is infinite and precious, completely fulfilling. but i have never tried to explain this for fear of them not understanding, so i usually say some line like 'just because' or 'i don't know' and then shoot their question back at them because there is no way to say these things out loud in a way that won't sound completely stupid.

i envy those who can say their thoughts out loud and have them make sense. i always feel as though i am only confusing those around me. perhaps this is why i choose to keep my feelings to myself. it is far more dangerous to risk your feelings being misunderstood than your thoughts. 10.29.21

people used to think that being diagnosed with a heart disease caused depression, but recently it’s been proven that depression also causes heart disease. And I think that’s so interesting because it really says a lot about the importance of taking care of our mental health. And I can’t help but imagine our brains being like ‘hey, i don’t feel so good right now, please send help,’ but another part of us is just ignores it and so it gets madder and makes us feel all sad and numb and whatever you feel when you’re in a pit of depression, and yet we still don’t listen and we don’t take the steps to make ourselves better, so our brain gets even madder and it tries to get our attention by causing physical problems as well as emotional ones. it’s trying so hard to get us to be better but sometimes we just CANT, so we’re stuck in this spiral of needing to help ourselves not be depressed but being incapable because we’re depressed.

Sonnet XVII by Pablo Neruda

i have tried to be unaffected by the plethora of emotions around me. but when i see her cry, it makes me cry. when i feel her radiate anger, it makes me scared, not of what she could do to me, but whether it was my fault. when she falls into depression, i feel it in every corner of the house. how i wish there for an  escape from this god awful empathy.

when the wave of obligations threatens to drown me, the thing i crave most is to fall deep into a downward spiral. i wish i had it in me to give up. just for a little while i wish that i could completely self destruct and be absolutely guilt-free about it. but i cant. so i wont. instead, i will continue on this barely survivable path that i have chosen for myself. until i find it in me to change for the better or finally fall.

love is more than just flowers on valentines day and anniversary dinners. love is not the big gestures, but rather the simple, everyday acts of consideration of another. love is smiling when they smile, and understanding that smiling is just too hard sometimes. love is being supportive when those non-smiles turn to tears. love is feeling like you are living life to the fullest even when you aren’t doing anything particularly extraordinary because being with them is an adventure in itself. love is always being able to make conversation and being comfortable in the silence when words are no longer necessary. love is bonding over similarities and learning from differences. love is treasuring each day with them and each moment in the moment. love is in the consistency of how we treat each other, not the grandeur of trying to prove that love exists.

#for the artists, dreamers, and change-makers

Paint it with good habits, and food that makes you strong, and people that you know you belong with. These are the primary colours of life.