Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Snap

A piece of her snapped.
Broke.
Cracked.
Like a twig under a foot in the forest.
Like the spider web of splintering glass.
Like trust at the moment of heartbreak.
Sudden.
Quick.
Instantaneous.
Snap.
And just like that, she was different.
Dangerous.
Dark.
Careless.
And no one quite knew what to do with the princess who turned into the villain.

Monday, December 22, 2014

Memories of Missing You

Missing you was an intricate part of my lifestyle.
I spent my life missing you.
Even when we were together, I missed you.
And when you broke my heart, even though I wasn't surprised, I missed you sill.
And now, I'm not quiet sure what to do with this not missing you business.
I've finally moved on.
Finally quit that twisted addiction.
Finally.
And once in a while, I see your name or hear something you did, and I feel compelled to miss you even though I don't.
Now the vast, gaping hole in my heart where your memory used to live is smaller. 
Not yet a pin prick but not still a hole.
And missing you seems like a memory too. 

Your Mistakes, Not Mine

How many times do you have to screw up before you learn a lesson?
We've been fighting this for years now and you're still messing up.
I used to want to help, to be hands on and show you your mistakes and talk you out of new ones.
But one person can only do so much.
This time, I think I'll take a different approach.

I think I'll sit back and watch it all implode, and I wont feel bad in the least because, by now, you should know better. 
You should have learned your lesson two years ago when you tried out the crazy for the first time.
So this time, the repercussions are on you.  I'm done trying to coach and teach and help and fix.
Make your mistakes, and get hurt, and be mad at yourself, or whatever else you do.
But don't you dare come crying to me when it's over.
Because I am out of sympathy.  I'm out of patience.  And I don't care.

Sunday, December 21, 2014

A Bit of Laughter

I think I cry more than anyone I know.  My emotions are all liquid.  Happy, sad, scared, stressed, surprised, it doesn't matter, I cry.
Ironically, I have no idea how to handle it when other people cry.
But last night I learned that the old saying "laughter is the best medicine" is beyond true.

A smile, a giggle, a hint of a grin.  All for a moment, chase away the shadows of pain.  Weather heartbreak or loss or depression are tormenting you, just a hint of a smidgen of a smile helps ease the hurt.  I don't know what it is about laughter, good, old fashioned, head back, cackling, laughter, but it heals the soul.  It's more than a bandage, it's a stitch for the deep seated scars the world can leave on our soul.
Everyone says it takes more muscles to frown than to smile, so isn't that God's way of showing us we're meant to live joyfully?  Sure we go through tumult and toil and problems, but it all works together for the glory of God.  Maybe your pain will teach you a lesson.  Or teach you something about yourself.  Or awaken a realization that spurs you into the best days of your life.  Or maybe, for you it sucks, but it becomes a lesson for someone else.  Regardless of the circumstance, remember that life is meant for smiling, even when it hurts.  And maybe all you need is a bit of laughter to ease the hurt.

Friday, December 19, 2014

Yet Another Soapbox Moment

I try not to get bent out of shape over much, but I have days where I just can't help it, so once again, I'll hop up on my soapbox for a bit.

Today lets chat about us as a general species and out constant ability to send mixed and damaging messages.

We are in the age of "tolerance" and "acceptance" and letting people be "who they are".  We are constantly bombarded with groups rallying for equality and for peace and for the right to just live out their days as they see fit.  I won't even get into sexuality issues and things of that nature, so I'll stick to the things affecting me.

In all these magazines, we see ads telling us to "embrace our curves".  Now, I am not a small girl.  I've got curves for days y'all.  But telling me to "embrace" them is just as offensive, in my opinion, as calling me fat.  Its like you're saying "well, you're ugly, but you should rock it anyway."  Being fat isn't a sin.  It isn't wrong.  It isn't a flaw.  Its not something to be ashamed of in the first place.  It's not some gruesome horrid card that fate has dealt us.  So stop treating it like it is. 
We wonder why girls have self-esteem issues and anorexia and bulimia, but look at what we're doing to them!  We have celebrities saying "embrace your curves", yet they have not an ounce of body fat to be conscious of.   Nothing against them, but seeing a thin, pretty, girl that we've deemed "better" than me because she's half my weight saying "hey its okay to be fat" doesn't make me feel better.
And if a celebrity gains a few pounds, we slap them on the cover with headlines about "fatal obesity" and "gaining pound after pound" like they've made this wicked mistake and they have to be publicly crucified for it.  Guess what, some of us can't help it.  For example, I have a medical condition that makes it several times more difficult to lose weight than the average person.  I'm not trying to sound pitiful or whiney, but just know that some of us are trying our hardest and it hurts so badly when someone undermines that effort with an off handed comment about our weight.

The fact that "body positive" messages exist sickens me.  The idea they we have disregarded each other's feelings and bullied one another and made mean remarks to the point that the world as a whole is "body negative"  makes me disgusted at the human race.  Let's take the spotlight off bigger girls like me and flip it around.  Stop telling skinny girls they need to eat more!  Stop telling them they're "too thin" or "unhealthy".  Why does that have to be our go to?  Why does it matter if someone is big or little?  Doesn't it matter what our hearts are like?  Don't manners and love and kindness matter? 
I could write entry after entry after entry about how screwed up the ideas of "pretty" and "normal" are, so I'll cut myself off here.  But I'm not done.

Other then physical dissection, we are constantly accused of being something we are not because of our actions.  I'm loud and outgoing and random and silly around people I know, so to outsiders, I seem crazy.  I have been called crazy more times than I'd like to admit.  Some people mean it as a compliment, but since when is crazy a good thing?  And then, when I'm around new people, I'm painfully awkward and shy.  People have accused me of being easily offended and snobby because I'm not overly friendly.
But you don't know me and you don't know my past.  You don't know that I've been hurt so many times, that I try not to open up because Im scared of getting hurt.  You don't know that when someone tries to talk to me, I have heart palpitations and I get high levels of anxiety.  You don't know how I struggle to be polite and normal around people I don't know.  And if you're watching me from the outside when im with friends, you don't know that I feel liberated that I can be myself around them.  You don't know that im faking a smile so they wont leave.  You don't know that im constantly in fear of being crushed again.

So I guess, what im trying to say, is that we have no idea what people are going through, how they feel, or where they come from.  We have to stop prejudging and making up our minds before we have a chance to get to know people.  We have to slow down and see the person on the inside instead of saying "ew she's fat" and walking off.  Or thinking "ha she has to be anorexic to be that thin" and making a joke about it.  Or shutting people out because they seem cold or strange or loud.

If we're going to send this message of "tolerance" and "acceptance" then we need to practice what we preach.  Walk the walk AND talk the talk.  Or else we're just a bunch of judgmental lairs, and I don't want to be seen that way.

Thursday, December 11, 2014

My Book

Well today was a big day.  I wrote that manuscript for NaNoWriMo and the five printed proof copies came in today.
It was insane.  I burst into tears when I opened the box and my hands shook like crazy.  I cant help but think of how insanely proud my aunt would be of me.  We were the readers in out family and she would be so excited for me.  I cant believe I've been blessed to this degree and I credit ever ounce of my success to God and God alone.  He has given me everything that made this possible from the talent to the will to the opportunity.  This whole process is completely and entirely devoted to the Lord.

Friday, December 5, 2014

We Are

We are classic.
Timeless.
 
We are black and white.
Pearls.
High heels.
Red lipstick.
 
We are the reoccurring pairing.
Old and new.
Soft and strong.
Sweet and dangerous.
 
We are a living cliché.
Innocent girl and a dangerous guy.
Already enamored and slowly falling.
 
We are the love story you never get sick of hearing.
The once upon a time.
The happily ever after.
The beauty and the beast.
 
We are opposites that will always attract.
Day and night.
Dark and light.
You and me.

Not A Fighter

I'm not a fighter.
I don't like confrontation.
I cringe at yelling.
I like peace.

But when they tore you apart before my very eyes something snapped.  I became angry, violent, strong.

I fought for you.
Tooth and nail.  Blood and all.
I didn't back down from a single argument.
When they criticized you, I defended.
When they called you out, I stood behind you.
I stood alone.

But I don't care because while I may not be a fighter, I will fight for you.

News!

Exciting news for all you guys out there that have any interest in my writing, I just ordered five copies of my book.  I'm not listing them for sale, but I am super excited that I'll have them in my hand!! God continues to bless me and make things happen and it just helps to solidify the fact that this is what I am meant to be doing.  I think if you have that gut feeling, that drive, that determination, it's God telling you "hey, that's the path I made for you" and you should follow it no matter what.  I know that when I feel peace and lightness in my heart, it's God's way of saying "good job, keep going this way" to me.  And I could not be more ecstatic that I found his plan for me.

The Moments

I've ridden the waves of grief for one year and three months.
I've had nights where I laid in bed sobbing, shaking violently while my heart caved in and my chest felt like it was going to collapse.
I've had days where I lock myself in my room and let silent streams of tears flow down my cheeks, not bothering to wipe them away.
I've had hours where I laugh uncontrollably at memories and silly pictures.
And then I have moments.
Moments were I can feel her in me.  I see her likeness when I'm barefoot.  I see her likeness in the reddening of my knuckles as I wash dishes.  I see her likeness in the moments when I catch myself laughing at something she would have liked.  I see her likeness when my chest swells as the leaves swirl across the pavement.
Sometimes a moment makes up for the hurt.  A moment where she feels so close, its as though she's still here.
And sometimes a moment can hurt more than all the pain I've felt in a year and more.  A moment were her absence is wholly and completely felt like a resounding wave of an echo that touches every inch of the earth.
But with the smiles come the memories of love and laughter and every happy event we attended together.  And with the tears come the realization that I had the blessing of having someone I'd miss so much once she left.

Monday, December 1, 2014

How... How... How...

How is it that the same people that once made you feel loved and special can make you feel inconsequential the very next day?
I strive and I fight and I try to reach out, to be a good friend.  After everything I've been through, I'm still trying not to just shut everything out.  And just when I'm proud of myself, just when I think I'm going to be okay, I get shut out by the only people I cared about. 
It isn't fair.  This happens to me over, and over, and over again.  Why do people see me as someone that can be easily abandoned?  Why am I the one who keeps getting screwed over?  I haven't done anything wrong!
I though they understood.  I thought it made sense to them that I was hurting.  I thought they were giving me a little bit of slack because I have been hurt so many times.  And then they turn around and do the same thing that broke me in the first place.
People wonder why I have no friends, and its because of people like this.  People who keep using me and them brushing me off like I'm nothing more than a pesky mosquito. 
How many times is a girl supposed to be broken? 
How much am I supposed to be able to take? 
How am I supposed to do this alone?