stephi

“Everybody has a chapter they don’t read out loud”

You have to get to the point where your mood doesn’t shift based on the insignificant actions of someone else.

Here we go again, with your mixed signals, and my overthinking.

Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.

Then it hits you suddenly; you’re 20 years old and you didn’t think you’d make it to 18. Those days have passed and now you appreciate life and you love a boy who loves you and you’re not thinking about the past but instead about the future you’d like with him.

I’ve got a question: How do you stop grieving over time that has passed?

You make lists in your head about what you want in a lover, like brown hair and a sweet voice. A sharp mind and a soft heart, a sense of humor that actually makes you laugh like you mean it. This and that. And it’s all bullshit. Because people aren’t lists. And I’ve always wanted to be the person who made someone realize that. I want to come across someone with a list in their head that is nothing like the person I am, and I want to show them what they didn’t even know they were looking for. People who think they know what they want are fooling themselves. Nobody really knows what they want. Not until it’s right in front of them.

The pain I felt while I loved you was beauty beyond any other. It’s unexplainable. It’s like you love someone who will never be yours again, and your heart aches a million miles a minute. But you get through it. You get over it. Then you look back and realize it was truly a miracle to have ever overcome just heartache. It’s beautiful. It’s beautiful to recover from such pain.

I’m over you. It was a process. At first, I had to forgive you even though I wanted nothing else but to hate every piece of your being. That was probably the hardest part. Forgiving someone who’s knowingly hurt you when you believed they would never do such a thing is next to impossible. Then, I had to accept that you care more about her than you ever cared about me. I still don’t think that you two are cute. I probably never will. But you’re together and you’re happy, so I guess that’s all that really matters. My opinion is completely irrelevant. She probably hates me anyway so it wouldn’t matter. Then I had to let it go. I didn’t stop caring; I just stopped worshipping the ground that you walked on. I put you down on the same level that we’re all on; the one where we’re all shitty people with good intentions. We screw up a lot. You screwed up with me. I wasn’t so great either. That’s okay. I forgive you. I hope you forgive me, too. But I knew I was okay again when I listened to “Over You” by Daughtry and fully believe every word of that song this morning. I woke up thinking of a boy with eyes like a storm instead of you and yours that are like a calm sea. (I like ferocious storms of people more than calm and predictable ones anyway.) I listened to “Begin Again” by Taylor Swift and imagined starting over with someone new. I’m over you. I’m okay again. It’s beautiful.

I’m fucking gold, but you prefer silver and that’s okay.