You manipulated me to an extent I didn't realize
And I still don't understand the reasoning for it
But thank God, that's a time that's long gone

I'm so scared, what if you do check this email? And you read my email. What would you say? Or not say? Or react? Or you don't remember me or something. I don't know what I'm doing or thinking but I reread our facebook messages and I wish I could reread our msn messages and I have no idea why I did/do/want to do any of that.

What do I expect? No clue. None. I am leaving myself in the dark on this one.
Probably chalked me up as a bad experience in your life. Or something.
I bet you've got sweet digs to live in, a good job or a good school to go to, some good boyfriend. Great family. I should've said congrats on graduation. I'm really late now. And Happy birthday. How were you ever 14? How was I ever 14? Merry Christmas. It's late, but you said it to me one year and I didn't reply. So that's settled and even.

Facebook is frustrating. It shows all of your messages to me, yet only shows half or less of mine to you. Not that I need to see them. I was probably a ****. Well, I was a ****. I think I still probably am. No surprise. Is this creepy? I'm gonna guess you think it's creepy that I'd email you and search you up after so long. It's probably wrong. Probably a lot of hate. For all my talk I ever spewed out, that's not a feeling I have currently. I am so confused.

You'd probably be confused too if you opened this. Or read my message on tumblr. I saw your blog in my old bookmarks. Man, did that give me a start.

What are you doing in college? Are you in college? I remember you wanted to do cosmetology. I don't remember when that was, or if you still did. I'm sorry. You used to say you ****** at math and science, I hope you didn't take those. Or, conversely, I hope you did and you aced them both this year. Can you take both? I don't know how college works there.

Here's a random creepy thing I guess. Dreamed about you pretty much every night since I met you, even when we weren't talking, were fighting, you thought I didn't care, or since I... well, I guess I blocked you at one point. Whatever the hell was wrong with me. How'd I dream about you? What capacity? I dunno. Nothing weird. Don't worry. You were just always there. At least I don't think anything weird. I don't know.

You pretty much always said you thought things would get 'bad' between us again. Guess they did. My fault, I know, don't worry. I've never been a good with people kind of person, never in touch with feelings, always a little on the angry side. Do you consider it bad between us? Or were you just thankful to get rid of me? Whoops, that came out a little weird. I hope you know what I mean.

I miss texting you.

Who are you anymore? What do you like, what's your passion, who do you love, who loves you, where do you live, have you travelled? Do you believe in God? Soul mates? Public health care? Jesus, sorry, too many questions. Probably don't deserve answers.

I'm sorry that there's no flow to this. No topic or whatever. I used to brag that English was my strong point, but I guess it's not, afterall. Or at least when it comes to you. Right now. It's 4 am. What the hell.

I can cook pretty good now. You should try some of my food some time. I make a pretty good chicken dinner. Winner winner.

You always knew what I would say. Always. Good or bad. Did you expect this? Did you expect it to come earlier, or later, or never? Where did you think I would end up? Did you ever want to talk to me? Miss me? Want to be friends, at least? Did you hate me, despise me, wish you never met me? I'd understand if that one was true.

Do you think we've changed? I feel like we're still the same people we have been. Somewhere. I feel like we adapt but the right environment brings out... the old settings? I don't know. Jesus, we were so off again on again! Even as friends. I swear, that Katy Perry song, Hot and Cold, so described us. Or at least me. But I think we were both a little off.

If your boyfriend (or girlfriend) is reading this they are probably confused and I am sorry. Why do they read your emails? Do you actually have a girlfriend?

I'm sorry that I'm annoying.

I know, I always apologized too much.

First time we ever talked on FB was 2012? Holy crap. 3 years ago. August 20th. We must've known each other for a long time before though... I mean, we lost track of each other for awhile. Or I did. I don't know if you ever expected to talk to me again.

Real talk for a second. These messages hurt my heart. For a lot of reasons. And I don't know how I got into them, so I'm sorry. It's like... going to your childhood home and remembering where you had your first birthday cake, and the first time you fell down the stairs. Except, it wasn't the first time. Because there were so many times before that. There's just no picture albums for them. I don't know what I'm saying. God, what does any of this even mean?!

What a waste of time for you to read this, I bet. I'm so sorry. I should've stopped before I even started. Am I even gonna send it? I don't know. I'm scared. You hate me? Nah, you don't care enough by now to hate me. Why do I keep circling that? How do you feel? That question, why's it matter? After all this time? I am insignificant. Billions of stars light up skies and fade away and nobody remembers, so why would you.

I live in so much mediocrity right now. Settlement after settlement after settlement. I am so scared.

'Always allow for error. Never be optimistic for you will be betrayed by your own fantasies.'

I'm not even sure what that means, but I feel like I've lived to it far too much.

What is going on?

4:14 am.

I put you through so much. And I am so ashamed. And I hate saying 'so much' because it makes me sound like I think I was soooo important. When I don't. I don't think that I was. And I don't think that anybody who is as mentally and emotionally exhausting as I have been should ever be considered a large facet of someone's life, important, etc.

And jesus, the fact that that outlook applies to me and how I've been hurts my heart so much.

I don't think I have an identity anymore. I need to find who I was. I've been defining myself by the people I've surrounded myself with (ugh), the place I live (ugh) and my work. Work is the only positive that I have had in life, and my new job, though well paying, is a drain on my emotions and my optimism. Forever settling for mediocrity. The second best lifestyle available. Of course, perhaps the best lifestyle isn't available. Or perhaps this is the best I can get. Maybe this isn't even close to the best I can get. I don't know. Life swallows me.

I am so sorry for coming back. I'm probably going to email you again. I'm sorry for that, too. I just need something. And seeing your email in my list, it felt like that was it. You don't have to respond, I guess. God, I wish you did, but I am so afraid.

I'm sorry.

Last night
I was intrigued with the idea that you cared about me.
I've been debating if it was really worth all those times
I spent with my finger over your name
in my contacts to call.
Each time I had to convince myself that I should never rely on you
considering that we became indifferent since I confessed my confusion for leading you on, in the most innocent way.
I didn't think you would just cut off all the emotional bonds we had.
Cause even though we were just friends in my mind
I was the saving grace in yours
and I hope to god that one day you could save me
from myself too.
But I resisted to open up the deepest parts of me.
That's not what you do when someone else is spilling their heart,
to overpower their issues with your own pathetic problems that couldn't compete.
So I kept my mouth shut,
and listen intensively.
I always wanted to be the first person you would come
running to when something went wrong.
Not because I envy your other friends
but because I thought if anyone could understand you
It would be me.
This was nothing short of a therapist session.
You trusted me to your core.
Or at least that's what you made me believe.
Yet when our friendship strained
and the yelling became more about
what our expectations for one another couldn't match up with,
I knew more than ever
that it was all based on a lie.
I haven't seen you for a while
and I don't know what it is that I miss
but I do know that I can't find one thing I fully have faith in
from all the words that you swore to have spoken to only me
without thinking about it twice.
So there I was, an emotional wreck.
With the lump of a pill to hard to swallow
and trembling fingers as I scroll over your name
as I pressed, actually pressed the call button.
I could barely hear the rings over my own shatter breathing.
It ringed not once, not twice, but four ******* times
when I decided that I shouldn't be calling you.
Pressing the end button as makeup smear tears fell onto the screen.
You question why I called you.
Was it with concern? pity? Or was it because you felt obligated to ask
what was wrong
as a way of repaying back for all those times I have asked you.
I didn't want to open up and act like I needed you, but in that moment
I did and all I could hear from your voice inside my head was
criticism and annoyance.
And It hit me hard in the pit of my stomach,
that I was just another girl to you with the same cliché story
of being in the middle of a nervous breakdown
that can only been given temporary relief from cigarette kisses
all in this poor attempt to seek your unwilling attention.
When you replies became silent
for whatever reason it might of been
It killed a part of my inside.
Cause I never would of left you alone
If you were in my place.
Friends we are,
but I guess I only can get that kind of satisfaction
If we were something more.
No longer will I believe you anymore.
Next time when you tell me
that I can trust you with anything,
I'll simply ignore the far fetch attempts of concern
and trade them in for a more permanent solution.
It won't leave me any better off, but at least it will always be there, whenever I truly need it.

I've come here not to gain followers.
I've come here to express my human side.

I am so human. once wished to be super man.
but that would be so boring. zero challenge is not human.

I've come here not to make an impact.
simply to share what my nature is.

poetry is one thing to use in epic coping.
these words aren't ordered.
there not being looked over by some professor.

I've come here not to become famous.
I've come here knowing I'm not blameless.

I've not come here to offend you.
I've come here possibly to befriend you.

I've come here not to be notarized.
many billions will never know my name.

I've come here to express my pain through write.
I've not come here to give you chills at night, when you lay.

I've come here not to gain followers.
I've come here to express my human side.

I've come here not to gain respect.
I've come to respect and read works of the matters of art.

I've come here not to become famous.
I've come here knowing i'm not blameless.

I've come here not to change the world.
I've come to let you all know what mine feels like.

I've come here not to gain followers.
I've come here following my heart.

i want to kiss you,

everywhere

i want to hold your face in my hands
and i want to feel you lying next to me when my body has given in to exhaustion.

i want to see you smile,
and i want to make you happy.

i want to know what made you,
and i want to know what makes you doubt yourself.

i want to know if you've ever let the voices in your head get to you.
and when you tell me no,
i want to know what they could have possibly said to make you lie to me.

i don't want you to keep yourself hidden.

i want all of you.

i want to know about your demons,
and i promise i won't leave you when you finally tell me about them.

i want to know about the ones who make your days grey,
and about that time you almost let them win.

i want to make you feel powerful
and i want to make you feel loved.

i want you to know that i think you're beautiful,
and that i think that scar above your right eyebrow makes you a work of art.

you are an unfinished painting.

and by the time God is done with you,
you will be beyond perfect.

and when He puts you in a gallery,
next to those who are known as angels,
you will know then,

that you are extraordinary.

I calculated life in days and not months or years for the fact that the important of otherwise minuscule sounding matters would sound as if it were grand. I reached for substantial representation as a reflection of the scale of enormity otherwise considerably short run instances have upheld in the 7,412 days since I was placed here.

7,412 days was enough to develop myself into the individual that I have never thought I had become. I am becoming the final forms of myself for the world to witness. I am beginning to blossom- though shriveling along the way- I am becoming beauteous and complete.
7,412 days has left me aware enough to know that
5,480 days ago I learned what loss was.
It was 5,480 days ago that I realized our minds **** more viciously than any plague lashed upon man.
5,480 days since coming to the conclusion that we are but temporary morsels of flesh on an ever-evolving plane of half-assed existing.
5,480 days since I realized that the enemy is not what we create in our heads as so it be the actions that have led us to create those idealizations.
It was 829 days later that leaving became a common occurrence in this calculated decline of my own innocence.
60 - some odd days thereafter I was led to believe it was my fault. It took another
730 days to realize that the weight of losing those close was that of had ripping my organs out with my bare hands.
898 days later I entered a
789 day torture chamber that had stripped me of every last pure portion of my existence. I wandered aimlessly with a bullet infused heart and the tattered and torn paper exterior that had served as a canvas to display the scars in which I had left to collect.
It was but 864 days until I had the slightest indication that this broken soul was of importance to anyone. I learned that believing this weight I had carried was not any fault of mine, but infractions committed by those who had set their own inner demons upon me as if they were handheld grenades and my mind was enemy territory.
It took a 40 day journey to find that for the first time I was given a sense of belonging and learned that sometimes it took coexisting souls to make sense of what our individual purpose had been all along.
I jumped aboard a 1,351 ship that had led me to places I had never ventured. I experienced rough seas only to be followed by fresh spring meadows. I had sat in the rain to appreciate how comforting the sun was as it kissed my skin ever so delicately. I had been to battle for a cause I was never sure would thank me, but when I found that it did I would have endured the fight ten times over for the bliss in which companionship contained.
4 days ago I learned that laying your entire soul out for another could still end in nothingness. The most beautiful presences can be reduced to but a deafening silence, a halting defeat.
Today is day 1 of knowing fairy tales are but compilation of half-truths.
Maybe codependency is but another word for makeshift.
I am disposable, but my soul is not.

I am as infinite as I allow myself to be.