wholehearted words

“When I realized it’s a cop out to ‘not care’, I saw it as a challenge to actually give a shit. When I realized my vulnerability is a gift, I started to embrace it. I’m embarrassed to look back at times in my teenage years where I picked ‘cool’ over sincere, when I masked my insecurities because I thought talking about them made them real, when I mistook being openhearted for being weak. It’s amazing the connections you can make with people when you decide to be open and transparent. It’s amazing the stories people will tell you after you tell them yours. To be honest, I don’t really know anything, I have a lot to learn, but I plan to do it candidly, organically, and honestly.”

I wake up covered in blankets on a farm that is covered in snow. The eight hour commute up to my in-laws’ house was worth it. I crack a window and instantly regret it. It’s cold out there. Ok, cold in comparison to what I’m used to. I have nothing to do. When was the last time you could say that? I haven’t even dreamed of saying recently. So I guess it’s a dream come true that I never even knew I had.

I roll over to see a sleepy face planted into the mattress, pillow fell on the ground I suppose. He looks so stupidly lovable despite the little puddle of drool and the fact that he stole all of the blankets last night. A thief. My thief. Lucky me.

This is temporary but isn’t everything, anyways? I’m going on an eight hour bus ride back to reality next week but I refuse to even think eight minutes into the future right now. 

The coffee is on. Paradise.

Your now-lover will rip your heart up into so many pieces, I promise you will not be able to distinguish it from the shards of glass he smashed over your head that late night when you were fighting so loud and you will try to pick up the pieces but you will bleed so deep, the ocean will look up to you and he will abandon you when you need him most, just like he did the last time and the time before that and Girl, you will put your cigarettes out on photos of him and damn, it will feel so good until you get a call from your once-friend in regret because she exposed her naked body to him in the moonlight and you will not be able to wipe away the thought, like the tears that keep on coming back because you can just imagine his soft tongue circling, and circling around hers just like it did yours and you will be so angry Girl, but oh that’s when it gets good That’s when it gets so sweet, you could lick it up off the floor And you will fight dirty, and you will fuck dirty and you will hate the world but Girl, you will love yourself when you look in the mirror and picture daggers at the ends of your fingertips and you will hate the world, but you have never been so loveable

But Girl, I wrote this for you - not to break your heart but let you know, that while you are searching for yourself in what ever was left behind You will find galaxies upon galaxies of magic within your soul and You will remember when he abandoned you when you needed him the most just to realize you never needed him in the first place

Today marks the two week countdown until Christmas. This holiday season, I picked up a second job as Santa’s photographer at the mall. It sounded like a cute and funny idea at the time until I actually had to do it.

I’ve been working 3-4 shifts a week on top of my full time job, which turns those 3-4 days a week into 12 hour work days. Once again, I find myself testing my own threshold. I’m realizing that it’s not as high as I thought it was.

Usually, I try to find time to write and self-reflect at least once a day. Lately, I’ve been pushing that aside. Luckily, this is only a five-week commitment and it will be all finished soon.

I’ve decided to write down a little list of reminders that will keep me going as I push through the craziness, and here they are:

Money is not more important than your personal relationships

Life is what you make of it. And you are a maker. So make.

Daydreaming is your talent. Don’t kick yourself when you catch yourself doing it.

Everything is temporary, including feelings. So feel and feel and feel. Even when it hurts. 

Rain on me Shower me with your words Drench me with your touch I don’t need a jacket to protect me from the natural disasters of your past

Breathe with me I will inhale your exhales I may be small but I can take it I have been here for a while and I don’t want to push through a single day without you

Here they are: the grey months. The sun sets at 4:01 PM nowadays, although it hardly seemed as though it was in the sky to begin with. Welcome, the months of chapped lips. Here it comes. If this year is anything like last year, then every night I will take a “short” nap after work just to sleep too long, and wake up at two o’clock in the morning, fully dressed, restless, with a craving for macaroni & cheese. Hello, rainy season. The morning doesn’t greet me with a smiling sun anymore. Instead, a mediocre “hey” painted on a neutral grey palette. Not happy, not sad even, just there.

Like many others, I find I do my best writing when I am an absolute wreck. It’s a blessing and a curse to feel this darkness so deeply. What the heck do non-writers do for five months of complete misery?

I guess that was rhetorical. I don’t really care. I welcome it.

Last night, a favourite artist of mine passed away. This has been the first time that a death of a celebrity has affected me both emotionally and physically.

As odd as it may sound to some, Lil Peep has been a massive part of my relationship. There were countless nights that my boyfriend and I stayed up, playing his music on repeat, singing to each other, falling asleep and falling in love. It was after we saw Peep live in May that I told Nick I was falling for him for the first time. I dyed my hair to match Lil Peep’s split-dyed look, bought his merchandise, and loved him like he was a friend. He has been so important to us, and his vulnerability allowed us to feel vulnerable with each other. His music was the ignition for so many of our late night conversations, some being the best conversations I’ve ever had.

Artists are amazing people, and he was a true artist. He put himself out there to the world, created and mastered a new genre of music, and loved his fans. He created a community where his fans could understand they are not alone, talk about their mental health, party, get fucked up, and channel our inner “early 2000’s emo”.

So thank you, Lil Peep. We will miss you.

My heart breaks for his family and friends.

My heart breaks for the fans he was keeping alive.

My heart breaks for the people who feel like it is all over now.

It’s not.

“Cry babies" will live on.

Myself included.

I write so much about love that I’m starting to accept that’s just what I do. Write love poems. OK.

I’ve had some single friends tell me that they’re jealous of the deep love they’ve read about in my poetry, but in all honesty, my love story with my boyfriend was really quite simple. In fact, when people ask us how we met, we usually tell them it’s complicated or just say nothing at all. I used to tell the truth, but I’ve realized that “he was my ex boyfriend’s roommate” had more shock value than I intended, and was usually followed by a conversation I wasn’t willing to have. No, I didn’t cheat. No, there was no ‘secret romance’. No, I didn’t know this would happen.

I wanted to write something about the simplicity of our love but I just couldn’t put it in verses. So here’s a little something I wrote that I wish I could word more elegantly: “The truth is, our love was never a fairy tale. It was never “I saw him and I knew”. And although he was my best friend, we were never even those “will you two just fucking date?” friends. Our love was drunken nights and a four a.m. conversation about absolutely nothing. Our love was cigarettes. Our love was watching him play video games and a shared guilty pleasure for chick flicks. It was never knowing which one to watch on Netflix because we had both seen them all. Our love was dating other people. His love was witness to me in happy relationship, and my love was witness to him in one hundred terrible ones. Our love was sushi and finding the cheapest places to eat in the city. It was having little money and spending it anyway. It was a series of belly laughs and awful jokes and ordering pizza. I was always the one to order the pizza. Our love was my first phone call after I had my heart broken. Our love was a long talk on a park bench followed by an ‘accidental’ hook up that somewhere, somehow, brought us to this. I’m still not sure if there was ever a “what if” in our love but there definitely isn’t one anymore. And you know what, I’m happy our love was never a fairy tale – because our love was always there. I just get to feel it more now.”

I’ve been at home sick for the past two days and I’ve realized a couple of things about myself:

1. This happens to me pretty often

2. I am terrible at relaxing

Let’s stop at number two. I am terrible at relaxing. Laying in bed does nothing for me other than cause me to oversleep and worse, overthink. It got so bad yesterday that I actually said out loud to Nick, “why am I the way that I am?”. I can’t just be sick without feeling like I’m not getting anything done, stressing about how little our apartment is, reevaluating all of my relationships, questioning my entire existence.

I think so far into the future that I can’t even allow myself to just be sick - and can’t we all agree that being sick is your body’s way of telling you, “okay - no more”, “take a minute”, “stop!!”?!

Now, how do I simplify my thoughts? (because now it just seems like I’m overthinking my overthinking)

Here is a list I’ve created to get my mind to shut the fuck up:

1. Breathe. In, out, whatever. The right way, the wrong way, just do it.

2. Drink water. You are on this earth therefore you need it. As much as you feel like an alien, you are a human, so act like one and take another sip.

3. Write. Bullshit like this works too. Write everything down until there isn’t anything anymore. Write until your wrists hurt and your mind doesn’t anymore.

4. Give your loved ones a hug. They love you unconditionally so remind them that it’s mutual. You need them, so don’t fuck it up. I know for a fact that my boyfriend and my mom could both use one.

5. Sleep. If you have any unhealthy habits that help you do this, do them. Tonight’s not the night to overcome those. Take a Xanax or knock back the rest of that vinegary wine, just get some rest.

& STOP DRINKING COFFEE. It’s ruining your life!!!!! (I’ll work on this one again tomorrow)