Even though I've just met you, I believe we will be friends.
First, I will tell you something about me, then you can tell me something about you, as that, I believe, is how friendship works.
Here is something I believe: I believe that people don't know how people work when they're young and maybe that's why we're so reckless with each other when we're young. I think people think that people come and go, in and out of life and I think that school teaches them that, that life changes in big annual movements, that one year you're this and the next, you're that. But life blends into itself as you get older and you realise, you will watch a few, if not many, of your friends get old. You will watch them lose their minds and their hair. You will watch them get sick and get better. You will watch them succeed and fail. You will watch them get married, get divorced, get pregnant and yes, eventually, you will watch them die. Or they will watch you die.
So this is what I believe friendship means..
And I'm sorry if this has put a heavy burden on you, but you have put the same burden on me.
Now you can tell me something you believe, as it is your turn, and this is how friendship works.
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
Sunday, April 20, 2014
Runner 11
Everyone always wants to know how you can tell when it's true love, and the answer is this: when the pain doesn't fade and the scars don't heal. When the tears threaten to return, so I willfully banish all thoughts from my head and take a few more deep breaths. When I suddenly get dizzy from the panic attack I've just suffered, and I close my eyes, resting my head against the warm leather of my steering wheel. When you realize that loneliness doesn't exist on any single plane of consciousness. It's generally a low throb, barely audible, like the hum of an engine in park, but every so often the demands of the highway call for a burst of acceleration, and the hum becomes a thunderous, elemental roar, and once again you're reminded of what you are running from.
(imissher)
(imissher)
Sunday, April 6, 2014
An Unopened Letter to Angela Rose
The people you will fall in love with in your 20's:
You will fall in love with someone who annoys you, whose orgasm face looks and feels pathetic. Despite all of this, there’s something keeping you drawn to them, something that makes you want to protect them from the harsh world. What you fail to realize, however, is that you are the harsh world. You aren't their noble protector — you are someone to be protected from, but it takes a lot of dates, a lot of nights where you question whether or not you are actually a good person, for this to ever resonate with you. When it’s over and whatever love is left is put back in the fridge like a sad plate of leftovers, you will finally understand that you have the power to hurt someone. You can either hurt them or love them and it’s up to you to decide what kind of role you would like to take on in future relationships. What feels more comfortable — being the one who loves more or being the one who’s loved less?
You will fall in love with someone who’s cold and always seemingly pushing you away. When all is said and done, they will be forever known as the one person you couldn’t get to love you. Unfortunately, it will hurt and sting worse than the good ones, the ones that chopped up your meat for you and picked out an eyelash from your eye and were nice to your mother, because love often feels like a game we need to win. And when we lose, when we realize we couldn’t get what we ultimately desired from a person, it makes us feel like a failure and erases all the memories of those who loved us in the past. It’s a permanent smudge on your love resume.
You will fall in love with someone for one night and one night only. They’ll come to you when you need them and be gone in the morning when you don’t. At first, this will make you feel empty and you’ll try to convince yourself that you could’ve loved this person for longer than a night, but you can’t. Some people are just meant to make cameo appearances, some are destined to be a pithy footnote. That’s okay though. Not every person we love has to stick around. Sometimes it’s better to leave while you’re still ahead. Sometimes it’s better to leave before you get unloved.
You will fall in love with the old couple down the street because to you they represent the impossible: a stable, long-lasting love. You’re trying to get someone to like you for more than ten minutes. A monogamous “never get sick of ya” love seems unfathomable. “What’s your secret, sir? Do you just say yes a lot?”
You will fall in love with smells, the good and the bad kind. You will want to wear your lovers shirt because it makes you feel close to them and you’re okay with being that PYSCHO who is legitimately sniffing their shirt in public. You will fall in love with sweat, certain perfumes, the smell of the season in which you fell in love. This particular love smells like fall. It smells like Halloween and a roaring fire and leaves and fog and mist and candy and food and family and whiskey and sex and the lint that collects on sweaters. When it ends, if it ends, you will never experience another fall without thinking of him, her, it. The memories will stick to the ground like a mound of leaves and will only dissipate when the weather drops.
You will fall in love with your friends. Deep, passionate love. You will create a second family with them, a kind of tribe that makes you feel less vulnerable. Sometimes our families can’t love us all the time. Sometimes we’re born into families who don’t know how to love us properly. They do as much as they can but the rest is up to our friends. They can love you all the time, without judgement. At least the good ones can.
This is where I’m supposed to tell you that you will fall in love with The One, a person who isn’t too cold or too nice. Their “O” face is perfectly fine and they’re not afraid to show how much they love you. This person is supposed to wait for us at the end of the twentysomething road as some kind of reward for all the heartache and loneliness. We deserve them. We’ve earned this kind of love.
So fine. You’re going to fall in love with The One. You’re going to fall in love with someone who will make sense beyond college or a job or a particular season. They’ll make sense forever and won’t ever want to leave you behind. I’m telling you this not because it’s true but because it NEEDS to be true. Everyone is entitled to this kind of love, so why not? Have it. It’s yours. Blow out the candles on your 30th birthday, holding their hand, and let out an exhale that’s been waiting for ten years.. (sigh) if only it was that simple.
I have fallin in love with them all. Fallin in love more times than I can count.
I fell in love with an amazing woman, and I hurt her, because I knew I could.
I fell in love with someone I knew would NEVER love me the way I needed to be loved, and I gave up everything for her.
I fell in love with one night of amazing sex, and in the morning we walked away strangers and never saw each other again.
I fell in love with every old couple I saw holing hands, while thinking to myself "I want that"
I fell in love with friends.. all my friends, every single one of them.
What no one tells you is love isn't a check list. Love isn't a race. Love isn't set instructions you follow from the age 19 to 29. I have spent most of my twenties with my heart in pieces, trying to get by from one love to the next. I have given and taken and cried; I have watched them go and never questioned why. Do you know what you really learn in your 20's.. you learn that it's not like the movies. You learn that feelings get hurt, wounds heal, and no matter how broken your heart is, it will keep beating. I am turning 30 in 33 days. I will blow out my candles with family and friends by my side and I will let out an exhale that I've held in for ten years, because at the end of this twentysomething road, I have learned how to love and respect myself enough to hold out for that one love everyone is entitled to.
-Oliver Hart
You will fall in love with someone who annoys you, whose orgasm face looks and feels pathetic. Despite all of this, there’s something keeping you drawn to them, something that makes you want to protect them from the harsh world. What you fail to realize, however, is that you are the harsh world. You aren't their noble protector — you are someone to be protected from, but it takes a lot of dates, a lot of nights where you question whether or not you are actually a good person, for this to ever resonate with you. When it’s over and whatever love is left is put back in the fridge like a sad plate of leftovers, you will finally understand that you have the power to hurt someone. You can either hurt them or love them and it’s up to you to decide what kind of role you would like to take on in future relationships. What feels more comfortable — being the one who loves more or being the one who’s loved less?
You will fall in love with someone who’s cold and always seemingly pushing you away. When all is said and done, they will be forever known as the one person you couldn’t get to love you. Unfortunately, it will hurt and sting worse than the good ones, the ones that chopped up your meat for you and picked out an eyelash from your eye and were nice to your mother, because love often feels like a game we need to win. And when we lose, when we realize we couldn’t get what we ultimately desired from a person, it makes us feel like a failure and erases all the memories of those who loved us in the past. It’s a permanent smudge on your love resume.
You will fall in love with someone for one night and one night only. They’ll come to you when you need them and be gone in the morning when you don’t. At first, this will make you feel empty and you’ll try to convince yourself that you could’ve loved this person for longer than a night, but you can’t. Some people are just meant to make cameo appearances, some are destined to be a pithy footnote. That’s okay though. Not every person we love has to stick around. Sometimes it’s better to leave while you’re still ahead. Sometimes it’s better to leave before you get unloved.
You will fall in love with the old couple down the street because to you they represent the impossible: a stable, long-lasting love. You’re trying to get someone to like you for more than ten minutes. A monogamous “never get sick of ya” love seems unfathomable. “What’s your secret, sir? Do you just say yes a lot?”
You will fall in love with smells, the good and the bad kind. You will want to wear your lovers shirt because it makes you feel close to them and you’re okay with being that PYSCHO who is legitimately sniffing their shirt in public. You will fall in love with sweat, certain perfumes, the smell of the season in which you fell in love. This particular love smells like fall. It smells like Halloween and a roaring fire and leaves and fog and mist and candy and food and family and whiskey and sex and the lint that collects on sweaters. When it ends, if it ends, you will never experience another fall without thinking of him, her, it. The memories will stick to the ground like a mound of leaves and will only dissipate when the weather drops.
You will fall in love with your friends. Deep, passionate love. You will create a second family with them, a kind of tribe that makes you feel less vulnerable. Sometimes our families can’t love us all the time. Sometimes we’re born into families who don’t know how to love us properly. They do as much as they can but the rest is up to our friends. They can love you all the time, without judgement. At least the good ones can.
This is where I’m supposed to tell you that you will fall in love with The One, a person who isn’t too cold or too nice. Their “O” face is perfectly fine and they’re not afraid to show how much they love you. This person is supposed to wait for us at the end of the twentysomething road as some kind of reward for all the heartache and loneliness. We deserve them. We’ve earned this kind of love.
So fine. You’re going to fall in love with The One. You’re going to fall in love with someone who will make sense beyond college or a job or a particular season. They’ll make sense forever and won’t ever want to leave you behind. I’m telling you this not because it’s true but because it NEEDS to be true. Everyone is entitled to this kind of love, so why not? Have it. It’s yours. Blow out the candles on your 30th birthday, holding their hand, and let out an exhale that’s been waiting for ten years.. (sigh) if only it was that simple.
I have fallin in love with them all. Fallin in love more times than I can count.
I fell in love with an amazing woman, and I hurt her, because I knew I could.
I fell in love with someone I knew would NEVER love me the way I needed to be loved, and I gave up everything for her.
I fell in love with one night of amazing sex, and in the morning we walked away strangers and never saw each other again.
I fell in love with every old couple I saw holing hands, while thinking to myself "I want that"
I fell in love with friends.. all my friends, every single one of them.
What no one tells you is love isn't a check list. Love isn't a race. Love isn't set instructions you follow from the age 19 to 29. I have spent most of my twenties with my heart in pieces, trying to get by from one love to the next. I have given and taken and cried; I have watched them go and never questioned why. Do you know what you really learn in your 20's.. you learn that it's not like the movies. You learn that feelings get hurt, wounds heal, and no matter how broken your heart is, it will keep beating. I am turning 30 in 33 days. I will blow out my candles with family and friends by my side and I will let out an exhale that I've held in for ten years, because at the end of this twentysomething road, I have learned how to love and respect myself enough to hold out for that one love everyone is entitled to.
-Oliver Hart
Thursday, March 27, 2014
because you found me and you changed me
I was electrified
I was terrified
I was young and that lonely highway didn't mind.
You were blue eyed and lovedrunk
I was fascinated
I was wide-eyed and willing.
I was whole and now I’m wilting..
But I’m still fascinated
I’m still wide-eyed
I’m still reeling
I’m still pulling at what pleated pieces of you I've got left in the bottom of my pockets
Because you found me and you changed me.
You were summer storms
You were swollen and sunburned, and I followed you where ever your lightening decided to strike.
Sometimes I tell people about you like it doesn't hurt
Like this isn't hard
Like it’s just lint
Just loose change
Some backyard apologies
Some long lost stars we tried to collect in our collarbones once
Some bottom of the ninth summer we forgot by the fall.
We dug our selves a grave
Took everything this world gave
Never regretted a goddamn thing.
We loved like it couldn't break
Even when it did.
Four years. I only had you for four years.
But I did not cry
I did not mind
I was mesmerized
I felt something
It’s gone now, but it comes back in flashes.
You dancing in the kitchen
Getting lost in another state
The tangles in your hair
The long drive from Arizona
The times you let me fall asleep in the space between your shoulder and your neck
When you told me I made you feel safe.
You’re gone now
You've been gone for awhile
But I know I felt something.
I didn't cry because..
I know for the rest of our lives that at least once there was a moment in the middle when we felt something.
Something.
I was terrified
I was young and that lonely highway didn't mind.
You were blue eyed and lovedrunk
I was fascinated
I was wide-eyed and willing.
I was whole and now I’m wilting..
But I’m still fascinated
I’m still wide-eyed
I’m still reeling
I’m still pulling at what pleated pieces of you I've got left in the bottom of my pockets
Because you found me and you changed me.
You were summer storms
You were swollen and sunburned, and I followed you where ever your lightening decided to strike.
Sometimes I tell people about you like it doesn't hurt
Like this isn't hard
Like it’s just lint
Just loose change
Some backyard apologies
Some long lost stars we tried to collect in our collarbones once
Some bottom of the ninth summer we forgot by the fall.
We dug our selves a grave
Took everything this world gave
Never regretted a goddamn thing.
We loved like it couldn't break
Even when it did.
Four years. I only had you for four years.
But I did not cry
I did not mind
I was mesmerized
I felt something
It’s gone now, but it comes back in flashes.
You dancing in the kitchen
Getting lost in another state
The tangles in your hair
The long drive from Arizona
The times you let me fall asleep in the space between your shoulder and your neck
When you told me I made you feel safe.
You’re gone now
You've been gone for awhile
But I know I felt something.
I didn't cry because..
I know for the rest of our lives that at least once there was a moment in the middle when we felt something.
Something.
Monday, March 24, 2014
The Sound Of Tears
Sometimes when I'm crying and I have my earbuds in..
I feel like my tears are the loudest tears in the world.
I wonder if anyone else can hear them fall.
I feel like my tears are the loudest tears in the world.
I wonder if anyone else can hear them fall.
Thursday, February 27, 2014
i can't unlove you.
Knocking on my door at 2am, asking for a bed to sleep in and warm arms to hold her.
I let her in.
(It felt weird; unfamiliar. It was the first time I’ve held someone in my arms other than “L” ..and it felt wrong.
I tried not to, but I kept comparing her to the only other touch I remember
And..
She didn’t fit in my nook.
Or curl into me the way she used to.
Her warmth wasn’t as warm.
Her touch wasn’t as soft.
Her scent wasn’t the same.
I tried to sleep, but every time I’d close my eyes the inside of my mind would scream.
It was uncomfortable, painful to be next to her.
It was like sleeping on a thousand razors and every move, ever breath, every thought of missing “L” cut deep)
.. The heater kicking on and off. The humming refrigerator. Dropping of ice in the freezer. Ticking of two clocks. Cars driving. Wind blowing. My heart pounding. And screaming thoughts and memories I wished more than ever I could relive. All of these sounds and thoughts I counted over and over.. and over again. Until it was finally time for me to get up for work. I showered, trying to wash it all away. Trying to wash off the feeling of ugly is hard when it’s under the skin.
She was up and waiting when I walked out of the bathroom. I couldn’t look at her, and she didn’t look at me.
We didn’t speak. Not one word to each other.
She was waiting by the door as I put my coat on to leave for the day.. I asked her. Why? Why did you choose my door to knock on?
Without hesitation she replied, “because I was drunk and didn’t want to go home to my boyfriend, because I needed to be held and knew your bed would be empty, and because I knew you wouldn’t expect anything from me if I was in it”
I turned around and locked the door.
(I immediately felt angry and hurt. Did she not know my heart was a fresh wound. I guess it’s easier to ratify using someone when you are the user, not the one being used)
Walking through the parking lot, before going our separate ways, she turned to me and said, “I’m sorry.”
(I didn’t speak. I didn’t blink. No expressions. No emotion..)
I turned and walked away.
She knew I was just out of a long term relationship. She knew how emotionally unstable I was. She knew the one thing I craved and hated was a warm body next to mine in bed. She used me. Emotionally she used me.. and I hated myself for it. It’s not like it was just emotionless sex, and then bye, you’re on your way.. it was more. It was something I wasn’t ready to give. I wasn’t ready to be that vulnerable.. and it cut all the way through.
“L” is still in my heart, still in my soul. Her voice is still my favorite sound, her warm skin on mine is the only normal I know. Her hair between my fingers, her skin under my lips, the way she fit perfectly in my arms.. are all things I close my eyes and can still feel. “L” is just a memory, but I’m not ready to give her up. I’m not ready to move on. I’ve tried letting go, but she’s tethered to my heart.. and I’m not ready to unlove the knots that have tied us together.
I let her in.
(It felt weird; unfamiliar. It was the first time I’ve held someone in my arms other than “L” ..and it felt wrong.
I tried not to, but I kept comparing her to the only other touch I remember
And..
She didn’t fit in my nook.
Or curl into me the way she used to.
Her warmth wasn’t as warm.
Her touch wasn’t as soft.
Her scent wasn’t the same.
I tried to sleep, but every time I’d close my eyes the inside of my mind would scream.
It was uncomfortable, painful to be next to her.
It was like sleeping on a thousand razors and every move, ever breath, every thought of missing “L” cut deep)
.. The heater kicking on and off. The humming refrigerator. Dropping of ice in the freezer. Ticking of two clocks. Cars driving. Wind blowing. My heart pounding. And screaming thoughts and memories I wished more than ever I could relive. All of these sounds and thoughts I counted over and over.. and over again. Until it was finally time for me to get up for work. I showered, trying to wash it all away. Trying to wash off the feeling of ugly is hard when it’s under the skin.
She was up and waiting when I walked out of the bathroom. I couldn’t look at her, and she didn’t look at me.
We didn’t speak. Not one word to each other.
She was waiting by the door as I put my coat on to leave for the day.. I asked her. Why? Why did you choose my door to knock on?
Without hesitation she replied, “because I was drunk and didn’t want to go home to my boyfriend, because I needed to be held and knew your bed would be empty, and because I knew you wouldn’t expect anything from me if I was in it”
I turned around and locked the door.
(I immediately felt angry and hurt. Did she not know my heart was a fresh wound. I guess it’s easier to ratify using someone when you are the user, not the one being used)
Walking through the parking lot, before going our separate ways, she turned to me and said, “I’m sorry.”
(I didn’t speak. I didn’t blink. No expressions. No emotion..)
I turned and walked away.
She knew I was just out of a long term relationship. She knew how emotionally unstable I was. She knew the one thing I craved and hated was a warm body next to mine in bed. She used me. Emotionally she used me.. and I hated myself for it. It’s not like it was just emotionless sex, and then bye, you’re on your way.. it was more. It was something I wasn’t ready to give. I wasn’t ready to be that vulnerable.. and it cut all the way through.
“L” is still in my heart, still in my soul. Her voice is still my favorite sound, her warm skin on mine is the only normal I know. Her hair between my fingers, her skin under my lips, the way she fit perfectly in my arms.. are all things I close my eyes and can still feel. “L” is just a memory, but I’m not ready to give her up. I’m not ready to move on. I’ve tried letting go, but she’s tethered to my heart.. and I’m not ready to unlove the knots that have tied us together.
Monday, February 24, 2014
This Heart
I've been given up on
and looked down upon
I've been left
and broken
Still
Every morning
I wake up
Wanting to love
And be loved
and looked down upon
I've been left
and broken
Still
Every morning
I wake up
Wanting to love
And be loved
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