📝

You cannot judge her for trying to kill her demons. For drowning her sadness in liquor. For burning her lungs or floating too far above the clouds. You cannot judge her for trying to feel. She’s simply just trying to heal.

When I say I want to know you it does not mean I want to know your favorite color. Or the what food you like to eat. Or what your shoe size is. I want to know who your first love was, who your first heartbreak was and if they were the same person. I want to read through your memories like my favorite book. Turn the pages of your heart and be able to recite every word. I want to know why you’re afraid of the dark. And letting people get too close. I do not want to know the trivial things.

A flower doesn’t bloom over night and you will not wake up one morning and become the butterfly. Change takes time but healing takes longer and sometimes it isn’t just about the wounds we learn to tend to, but the strength we learn we have on the way.

I’m 5’6”. My favorite color is purple. I eat way too much cheese ravioli and I love people too hard. I’m needy. I call everyone back because I can’t fathom the idea of someone needing me and I’m not there. I’ve seen every episode of Gilmore girls. Twice. My favorite subject is science. I think that’s why I don’t like gray areas. I don’t like the uncertainty of knowing if she loves me tonight or not. I know she loves me. I thought she loved me. I work. And I work hard. I tell my mom everything. I don’t wear make up. I don’t like when things are artificial. And she doesn’t need it. She is art on her own she doesn’t need to be touched up. I like driving in the rain. I take long showers. I have a problem with authority. I am mine before I am anyone else’s and no one will tame the fire burning inside of me. I’m not a morning person. Unless my mornings are well spent with her. I like to read. I can play the guitar. Not always well, but I can play. I’m afraid of horses. I think it’s because I’m afraid of things that can overpower me and it stems from my need to be in control. I thought she loved me.

I cannot imagine how we forgive ourselves for all the things we did not say until it was too late. Or how we let go of all of the things we did not become. But just because you didn’t start sooner, doesn’t mean you can’t start now.

I hope the next thing you're addicted to is loving yourself.

I was looking at her.

I watched my mother spill wine into her coffee and swallow it down with pieces of her broken heart and I bit down on the straw dipping into my dr. pepper and snow kisses the ground and kills all the plants and fuck I don't think we were ever in love but it hurt so bad when it ended, I don't know what else it could've been because high school crushes can't kill you but god I'm so sedated and my mother switched to vodka and I was the girl who wasn't afraid of anything I was the girl walking in the middle of the street and kissing boys without getting dizzy and now I'm terrified to breathe because the air around me is laced with you and Jesus fucking Christ I think I'm dying and I've been drinking vodka too and I swear to god when I grow up and I have a daughter I'll never let her anywhere near boys like you, boys who make you fall in love with the bottom of liquor bottles and put you to sleep just to wake you up and break you all over again and I'll never let her see me spiking my coffee with alcohol or let her notice the teardrops staining my pillow case because I thought this was love but we were never fucking I'm love. Love isn't supposed to feel like earth quakes in your chest or tsunamis in your throat but it does oh god it does.

The thing about broken clocks is you can always tell exactly when they stopped ticking. With people it isn't so easy and sometimes you can't even tell they're broken.

They told me to pour my heart into everything I do. So that's what I did, I poured and poured and poured. Now they ask me why I'm so empty.

There are two types of love. There's the kind that you find in good morning texts and shy smiles. The kind that comes with butterflies and stolen glances. The kind where you laugh for no reason and a smile is forever glued to your face. Sweet, simple, honest, pure. And then there's the kind that finds you in 2am phone calls and the tears on your pillow. The kind that does with a war between your brain and your heart. The kind where nothing makes you happier and nothing makes you sadder. Passionate, overwhelming, intense, daring. And when it all comes crashing down so do you.

And then I felt sad because I realized that once people are broken in certain ways, they can never be fixed, and this is something no one ever tells you when you're young.

I don't care that you got into drugs for three months straight, or how much sleep you lost in that period. I don't care that you went home and fucked that person and woke up hating yourself at 6am, or that you smoked so much you sounded as though your lungs were giving out. You're not a bad person for the ways you tried to kill your sadness, I've tried them too. You're just human, and being human means you need to survive and you do so whichever way you see fit, fuck everyone else.

Sometimes we do or say things we know we shouldn’t to cover up the crack in our voice or the stutter in our step when our hearts are breaking. And I just have one thing to say about that: no one is allowed to judge the way you are trying to fix what is broken inside of you.