Mortified Memories

I thought about you today.
I thought about that stupid bracelet I made you.
Out of those stupid coke tabs.
I don't think I'll ever forget sitting in the middle of the floor making it when you walked in.
And I tried to ignore you, because I was trying to be cool.
But you didn't let me get away with that.
You just had to come back and hug me.
I don't know if that was your decision or you merely giving into the pressure of the girls sitting around me, and from what I remember, gesturing wildly for you to initiate some kind of contact with me.

I think about that stupid bracelet and I'm absolutely mortified.
So, in case you're reading this, I apologize for offering such a stupid gift.
And for giving it to you.

But I don't apologize for the butterflies in my stomach when you had me tie it on your wrist backstage.  Or for the pride I felt that you even wore it at all, whether you wanted to or were just trying to be nice.  Because that moment is one of the many moments burned into my memory and stuck in the ever growing file with your name on it.
That was a good day for me.
I felt like you cared.
I felt special.
I felt acknowledged.
Even if it was only because of a stupid, admittedly atrocious, poorly made bracelet.

And those are the feelings I miss when I miss you.

Unseen

I've always loved blending in.
Disappearing into the crowd.
Being just another face that doesn't get pointed out.

It's been difficult with a name like mine, and a face that mirrors that of my mother's. People like to comment on how strange a name such as mine is. How unique. How different.
They like to talk about the resemblance I bear to my mother. How we wear the same smile. How we could be sisters.

My family is an outgoing one. My dad has never met a stranger. My brother embraces everyone he sees with open arms and a warm smile. Even my mom has a kind and friendly disposition.

And then there is me.

I used to be so shy, so introverted. And then I caught up with the rest of my kin. I was loud, friendly, bright.
Too bad misfortune and betrayal have such a way of tainting bright hearts.

I have reverted. Not all the way, but some, back to the shy girl I was back in my youth.

Here, here it is easy to disappear. Thousands of faces cloud me as we float across the campus in a mass. I am unknown here. I have blended.
At long last, I am unseen.

Paradise

I look across the glassy water, rippling gently with waves.

Salty sea spray tickles my cheeks and the tip of my nose,  but I hardly feel the intrusion at all.

Across the briny deep, lights twinkle and glint in windows of far off buildings.

It has the effect of gold glitter, hanging, suspended in time and space, continually reflecting light and sparkling across the sky.

A deep gulp of fresh air, tinted with the scent of seaweed and sand and salt fills my lungs, like I'm actually breathing the scene in and I close my eyes.

This is ecstasy.

This is bliss.

Forever scorched by the rays of the beating sun and roughed up by the jagged, minuscule grains of sand.

Tanned and smooth, like a rock weathered down to a polished pebble, constantly altered by the never ending influence of my surroundings.

No music is needed here, for nature provides a cacophonous symphony all it's own.

Gulls screech and waves break and breezes blow, swirling together in a harmony unlike any other.

This is true euphoria.

This is paradise.

 

Thank You & I'm Sorry

You dropped me a lifeline in treacherous waters.

I was drowning, and you showed up just in time.

 

My whole world was sinking in a sea of tears, my entire ship about to capsize, and somehow you stilled the water.

It was like an earthquake only I could feel, wracking, shaking, convulsing through my bones and shuddering into my chest until the air was beat from my lungs and the edges of vision were tinted black.

And there you were with an oxygen mask, and the tremors stopped.

 

I thought I knew exactly who you were to me, and now... I can't decide what I want.

I don't want gratitude to dictate feelings, but I don't want to ignore this knot in my stomach when you smile at me either.

 

So thank you, for saving me from the abyss, for pulling me from the ledge, for helping back onto solid ground.

And I'm sorry if things get muddled between now and that day on the horizon that keeps outrunning me when it seems to be within reach where I might finally know what I want.

Permanantly Malleable

The way our idiosyncrasies and habits change and mold to fit the examples of those around us amazes me.
It seems that every soul we come in contact with leaves an imprint on our heart, weather we know it or not.

I do dishes the way my grandmother does, and my mom does them the way her grandmother did, which happen to be two different ways.
I've learned not to care what people think and to enjoy the moment from watching my fearless little brother and the way he interacts with the world.
I've learned how to speak up, and laugh, and interact with kids from watching my mother.
I've learned to be kind, hardworking, sensitive, and loyal from years of tagging along around my father.

My family (cousins and grandparents and aunts and uncles alike) has shaped me into a young woman who adores her family more than anything else on earth.

My friends have taught me that I am never alone, no matter how isolated I feel and that laughter truly is the best medicine.

Today, I helped a girl with an 80,000 dollar car help a stray dog into her leather seats and out of the cold without so much as a second thought to the interior.  People like her help teach me that helping another living being is more important than the materialistic things we maintain in this life.

The people we live with, the people we love, the people we talk to, they all teach us something, weather it's how to do something or how to look at things.  Or even if they've taught us exactly what we don't want to become through bad behavior.  We are constantly touched and changed and molded by out surroundings and the inhabitants therein and we are continuously learning to be more or less of what makes us who we are.

That Precious Chain

It amazed me, how hard it was to throw that necklace in the trash.  It brought me to tears.  It was like the final act that declared our broken relationship unsalvageable.  It hurt so bad.

I remember when you gave it to me for my birthday some, eight years ago.  I loved it.  I was over the moon.  It was my two favorite colors.  Blue and green.  It was perfect.
You were a month late giving it to me, and the wrapping was a testament to how long it sat, wrapped and ready on your kitchen table.  But you could have been a year late and I would have loved it the same, maybe more.
It was one of my favorite gifts.  That silly beaded necklace.  On that silly wire.  With that silly stone.  I bought things for the sole purpose of matching that necklace so I could wear it more often.

Man how times have changed.  After that text, after all that time, I kept it.  Locked in my jewelry cabinet, tucked away for safe keeping. Three years passed and I kept it.  And when I thought things were going to change, I moved it to the front of the jewelry box.  I just knew, deep down I would wear it again.  I just knew we would work it out.  But we never did.  And after dust had discolored the little resin beads, I moved it to the back again.  But I never threw it away.
I thought I'd be able to wear it.  That I could look at it as just a piece of jewelry, without all the memories and sentiment.
I was so wrong.
A hundred times I pulled it out, clasped the lock, and stared with teary eyes at the jewels in the mirror.  Then I unclasped the lock, and slipped it back in it's shadowy home.
It was like if I kept it, we'd find a way to fix things.  We would work it out for the sake of that necklace that meant so much to both of us.  We would never leave that poor necklace hanging in the balance.
I suppose I was a bit delusional.
This time, when I saw it, my heart dropped to the floor and I knew it was silly to keep it.  Silly to hold out hope for us.  Silly.  Silly.  Silly.  So much with us was silly...
White knuckled, clutching that stupid chain, I said goodbye.  To you.  To us.  To everything we were.  To hope.
And when I found the nerve to unclench my fist, that precious chain fell into the trash next to a single tear and all of our memories.

Gentle Darkness

He had a gentle way about him despite the darkness that seemed to cloud his eyes.

Like someone who saw unspeakable torture but didn't let it ruin him.

 Like he soaked it in and let it make him more cautious. 

 

Watching him was mesmerizing.

 Like leaves swirling on a soft breeze.

Like watching an artist create a masterpiece, stroke by stroke. 

 

Everything had an ease.

The way he walked. The way he spoke.

The way he seemed to calm the storm of energy I was perpetually battling.

Even the way he pushed people out was easy. As was the way he withdrew. 

 

I don't think he knew his effect on me.

 How it was so easy to spill my past and my heart and my thoughts to him.

How his memory made the corners of my lips turn up.

How his smile made a single butterfly flit to life in my stomach, fluttering in time to the rhythm of my quickened heart rate.

 How safe he made me feel. 

 

Somehow, this man I'd known only a while made me feel at home. 

Finding Me

I am finally becoming who I want to be.

It took a surgery, an entire semester off of school, six weeks of bed rest, a lot of tears, some heartache, and a few stunning realizations, but I'm finally becoming the girl I want to be.  The young woman I am proud to call myself with traits and characteristics I'm not ashamed of.

Last May, I was at the end of my rope.  I was exhausted mentally, physically, spiritually, emotionally.  I was done.  I was drained.  I could hardly get through a day without breaking down into a puddle of tears.  My first year of college was too much, friendships were too much, I was too much altogether.
And then summer came around and I thought I was finally free.  But after three months of college transfer applications and deadlines and doctor appointments and chronic pain were relentless and the rest I was so desperate for never came.
And then I had surgery and my world of fast paced frantic chaos came to a screeching halt.
Unable to walk, move or practically breathe without assistance for six weeks threw me into a whole new state of mind.  At first, it was emotional torture.  I felt weak and helpless and dreadful.  But in the end, I learned a lot.
You learn who your friends are, who cares about you, when you're incapacitated and of no use to anyone.  Those that only need you for your resources will leave faster than a startled deer.  But the ones that matter will give you silly nicknames and sit on you in a rocking chair and sit by your side when you look like crap and talk about nothing for hours and let you cry for no reason.  And those are the ones you keep.

I had my first epiphany a few weeks after my mobility returned.  And it was go time.  I cut ties with people that only used me, I deleted contacts in my phone, unfollowed people on instagram, and unfriended people on Facebook.  Suddenly, I went from being a girl who couldn't keep her eyes dry to the most stone cold, hardcore version of myself I had ever been.  That was the moment I realized how much I matter.  I don't deserve crappy friends, or people who use me, or people who only call when they need something from me, because I am worth a million times more than that.
For a long time, I didn't know that.  I didn't know my worth and so I settled for less than stellar friends and for a less then good version of myself that I didn't know I could improve.

Getting involved with NaNoWriMo was a whole new chapter.  I wrote a book.  I.  Musi Trappe, wrote an entire book start to finish in twenty five days.  And then I got copies printed and sent my house.  It was one of the most emotional moments I've ever experienced, seeing my name on the cover of a book.  And in that instant, I knew I was in the right career.  When people started asking for copies right and left and I started getting feedback, it was nerve-wracking and scary and yet, totally awesome. 
My latest epiphany just hit me one day out of no unusual circumstance, just poof and I came to terms with the fact that I am not perfect.  But I am a lot of other things that are better than perfect.  I am strong.  I can handle things, I do handle things, that no one knows about.  I am proud to be who I am.  I wear a smile everyday.  I like to laugh, probably more than most situations call for.  I'm confident and that's a big deal for me.  I have anxiety in almost every situation, but I don't let it consume me.  Despite the losses I've had to endure, I am trying my hardest to be friendly and reach out and not be cold or bitter.  I'm learning to be okay with the way things fall, and I'm learning to let my picture of how things should be change with the circumstances.

Overall, I needed this semester off.  I needed a break from everything so I could just let the wind blow me where it may.  I needed time to be a free spirit, and learn to take life less seriously and loosen up.  I needed this time to reassure myself that I can, in fact, pursue a career in writing and be successful at it.  I needed this time to be a teenager and go out with my friends and laugh until my stomach hurt and watch movies at 2 a.m.
But mostly, what this time gave me was a chance to find myself, and that's exactly what I did.

Hospital Visits

Knowing you is like coming in and out of consciousness.

Like I'm not quite sure what's real and what's part of my imagination.

Some days, I feel like you hung the moon.

Some days, I feel like you're the only person who will ever understand me.

Some days, I feel like I can't get far enough away from you.

 

You're like pain medication, giving me hallucinations.

Vivid dreams.

Mixtures of fiction and reality.

Feelings that don't stick and never make sense.

 

Maybe that fact that you remind me of hallucinogenic drugs and hospital visits is indicative of the status of our relationship.

Maybe that's how I know that it's dangerous.

Maybe that's my sign to turn a blind eye to the confusion and let it go.

But how do you ignore something if you don't even understand it?

 

Neither my heart nor my head have a grasp on it.

It makes no sense.

And my intuition might as well be nonexistent at the moment.

 

I just want things to make sense.

But you don't.

Nothing about you does.

Nothing about this does.

And I fear it never will.

Figure It Out

Either take my companionship seriously or get out of my life.
I have spent far too many years making far too many excuses for far too many foolish impostors posing as friends.
I value myself entirely too much to let you treat me like the dirt on the bottom of your shoe just because one thing isn't going as planned in your life.
The fact that your relationship status affects your attitude towards the people who call you their friend sickens me.
If you are that insecure, if you have that little a grasp on your entire identity, you need to reevaluate and I don't have time to sit around and wait, being treated like scum while you figure it out.
I have goals, and plans and a future that I am ready to obtain, and I'm not going to waste my time fighting like children over stupid things when I could be celebrating my successes with people that actually care about me.
So figure it out or get out.
Those are your choices.

The Flutter of Coattails

The tail of his coat flutters as he stomps around the corner.
In seconds, with a few words, her entire future vanished before her tear-dimmed eyes.
With a fist closing around her heart, and the air sucked from her lungs, she cries out.
"Please!  Don't leave... Not yet."
Despite everything, all the reasons he has to leave, he stops.
The suitcase hits the floor and he spins on his heel, catching her breath again.
"Please."  She whispers with the single wisp of air left in her chest.
Seconds later, a future comes back into view as he runs to her and spins her around, crushing her to his chest.
Sobs shake her sweater covered shoulders.
His sweater was always a safety blanket for her.
"I can't stay."  He breathes.
"Please.  Not yet."
Cold air from the open door dances past their intertwined being, reminding him of his exit.
"I have to go."

The tail of his coat flutters as he slowly marches around the counter.
He won't turn around again.
This time, the fist holding her heart tightens and squeezes until the pressure is too great.
Heaving, sobbing, gasping for air, she sinks to the ground.
Alone.
Even now, seconds after his towering figure has crossed the kitchen and faded into the night, the scent of his cologne seems to dissipate.
Wrapping her arms around her, she breaks apart silently, letting rivers of tears tainted with mascara soak his sweatshirt.

Simply Were

It was the sweetest form of surrender, falling into him.

Like the walls just retreated into nothingness and the sky cleared up.

It was slow, like a sunrise.  Taking its time and sweeping in gently to whisk her onto a cloud and carry her off into the sunset with the promise of a better tomorrow.

He was gentle, like a summer breeze.  Like the tender crashing of waves onto the shore of an isolated beach haven.  Like the loving wings of a mother bird slowly closing her young in a bubble of feathered protection.

It was dreamlike, the way he put her angst to rest, softening her endless nervousness and easing her into a timid bed of security.

Time was suspended around them, like the eternal hourglass stopped, for just a moment, and they simply were.