July 23rd, Tuesday
dial tone ringing
Hello?
Hi there, how are you feeling?
I feel like I'm going to explode.
My mind wont stop racing.
My heart won't stop aching.
Mistakes that I'm making
Keep eating me alive.
Just take a deep breath, tell me why.
I'm a huge ******* joke.
Ask me why again and I'll choke.
My vision is clouded with smoke
and my fragile walls are breaking.
You're not a joke, all you need to do is breathe.
Once the air fills your lungs,
you'll be able to see--
See what? That karma is a *****?
That my lies make people's skin itch?
I know that I'm absolutely worthless.
I know, I know. I deserve this.
No! No, you're not worthless! You just need--
Click
Dial tone

-The Shriveled, Dead Spider.

One was a boy with brown hair and
crystal clear green eyes.
I thought he loved me.
All he did was hurt me.
He defiled me, belittled me,
tore my confidence to shreds.
He wore a façade and played everyone he ever knew.
He was cruel.

One was sweet and kind and wonderful.
Blond hair, a straight nose,
and a pair of ocean eyes.
He treated me like a princess.
Like I was a priceless gem.
But I guess he couldn't handle the distance,
or maybe he was just an idiot.
But soon he started lying,
and our relationship started dying.
He lied and lied and lied
until my love for him finally died.
He was a coward.

But this last one... my, my, my this last one....

This isn't a poem. This is more like a letter about a girl I knew.
Her name is Christina Grimmie. When she first started out on YouTube, I found her and I loved her. I commented on her video; something about the Zelda poster in the background. We bonded over that. And we talked for a little while, but then we lost touch. For a long time.
In 2014, she was on the voice. I was so proud of her. I sent her a Snapchat congratulating her and telling her how proud I was of her. And after that, we continued to talk. She was there for me when she could be. Sometimes she couldn't answer because she was on tour, or because she was recording, or simply because she was tired. We weren't best friends, but we were close enough to be considered friends. She lost touch with me again. The last thing we said to each other breaks my heart.
I don't know what to do. I'm so mad at everybody. Got any advice?
John 13:34- "A new command I give to you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another." Yu have to love people in order to be happy. If u sit here and resent them, yu wont be happy at all girl! Love yuuu.
She was shot and killed about a month or so later. And I was heart broken. I was so mad at the world. I deleted her from my phone because it was too painful. I regret that decision. I had lost someone so dear to me. I think about her every day. But one day I saw her brother, Marcus, pop up in my friend suggestion box on Facebook. I added him and he added me back. Now we talk all the time and its like I'm talking to her. It's like if you look behind Mark's eyes, there she is smiling back at you.
I don't talk about her much. It feels awkward. But I miss her a lot.

Thursday, April 11th, 2019.

I have to stop getting my hopes up. Every sliver of attention that he shows me sends me into a whirl of happiness and excitement; until I remember his words that play over and over in my mind like a broken record. "If they're there, they're not apparent. I just don't see you like that right now. The rest of that conversation is muddled. Instead of the cold and numb feeling I'm used to getting when I hear things like that, my face flushes, I sweat, and I want to *****. I get so hot. I'm sure it's because he's the only person on this earth that I care about. Thinking about other people and whether or not I care about them makes me cringe, and I would drop them off the face of the planet if it made him happy. But after his words replay for the hundredth time, I am left spiraling down. In a burning house filled with anxiety-ridden smoke that I inhale like oxygen. I shake, and the reality of how truly alone I am right now hits me. I don't get angry, and I don't feel "nothing," but I have an unpleasant and indescribable feeling for the rest of the day. Right now, I am in the process of the downward spiral. I'm thinking of whether or not I should leave my phone at home or take it to work. I'm sure it would only worsen my anxiety at work. I think it's the biggest reason why I'm panicking right now. I constantly check it for messages from him, and when there is none like I expected, I'm sent further into flight mode. It's happened a couple times at work, and then I'm driven to impulsively message him when all he wants is for me to leave him alone. I'm not furthering my chances with him when I do that. In fact, he's clarified that it weakens them. I think I'll send him my HP link and that's how he can check my thoughts or check in. I'm spineless, I know, but I'm going to try as hard as I can not to message him first or worry about him and what he's doing. I'd like him to come to me first so that I know I'm not bothering him or annoying him. (Even with our snapstreaks, I'd like him to send it first. I know that sounds dumb but still). I asked him if he wanted me to take him to get his hair cut. Then I thought about his green bag. How I ask him if he has everything before we leave to go somewhere. That boy from work came over last week, and before he left, I asked him the very same thing out of habit. It was strange and I hated it. In truth, I strongly dislike that boy. I hate everything about him. I don't ever want to think of that boy again. Or anyone else for that matter aside from the one person I actually genuinely like. Anyway, I fear that I'll never have to ask that question as often as I do again. I just crashed onto the floor of my burning house. I'm going to leave my phone here. If not, in my car when I get to work. I don't want to ruin my 0.002% chance of talking to the only person I can tolerate later. Instead, I'm bringing my journal with me. If I have thoughts, I'm going to write them down and document them on my HP page so if he wants to access them, he can have them. (Though, I'm not sure why he would want them anyway). Maybe reading what I'm thinking every now and again will be good for him. Maybe not..

I have vivid dreams.
I dream in color; dreams of laughter,
Dreams of sorrow, dreams that are caked in blood and fear.
Occasionally, though, the dreams I dream are muddled,
Only flashes of seemingly arbitrary scenes in every day life.
"It was only a dream. No context or meaning," I tell myself.
And then I see that same little arbitrary scene while I'm awake.
Like sitting on the floor at Grant's house in my dream,
And now in my waking life.
At the store, with Whitney jumping all around, giggling and being roudy.
I believe I am on the right path,
Because my dreams have shown me the outcomes of my choices.

the memory of laying down in bed
next to him.
i can still feel his bare chest
pressed against my back.
i can still hear the sound of him
sighing in his sleep.
i can't get it out of my aching skull.
a horrid sound so
wretched.
i grip my hands tightly together
to comfort myself.
i'm cold.

Tell me, and I will listen.
Show me, and I will understand.
Take me in, and I will learn.

Once, when I was a teenager, I got drunk and high.
I was so crossfaded;
I saw the world in a Viper Room blurred haze.
I remember the people I was with.
My best friend, and some guys from school.
Everything was moving in slow motion,
frame
by frame
by frame.
I saw phantasms of my friends moving from one side of the room to the other,
their ethereal beings following behind them.
The high undulated every few minutes,
becoming so intense I could just see the waves forming before vanishing.
It was the middle of the night.
I had sat down on the couch next to the neighbor boy.
Touching was very intense.
The heat of his skin through his clothes
where our legs and elbows brushed flushed my cheeks amaranth.
I remember feeling euphoric,
perfectly content about where I was and what I was doing.
He laid his head on my shoulder,
falling out of the high like a wounded raven from the sky.
I was so warm.
I remember thinking I could stay on that couch,
letting this altered state of mind befall upon me in perpetuity.
Happy, forever.

What is in a name?
Broken beyond repair
Revealing what was under the surface
Again and again your fists struck like a bat to a ball
Not even acknowledging what you did
Denying that anything happened
Over the course of 2 years you let me believe you were good
Now I know the truth

You're nothing but an ***.

Winter; late 2014/ early 2015

"I need to know that you'll be able to stop me if I can't stop myself.
I don't know if I would be able to stop myself."

In the woods by the baseball diamond,
you took my hand.
The setting sun was glowing through the trees,
and a fresh blanket of snow gently covered the ground.
Your green eyes shined in the speckled sunlight,
contrasting against your dark hair and pale skin.
You stepped towards me.
You started to kiss me.
You started to take it further.

"Hey, stop. I'm not ready, please stop."

I pushed you away;
I tried to, at least.

"I don't want to stop. YOU have to stop me."

After I asked you to stop a few more times,
without any signs that you were going to listen,
I finally slapped you.
I slapped you across the face, hard,
and I just looked at you.

"Well, now I know that you can stop me if you need to."

You had said it like it was amusing to you.
I was scared.
But I loved you, so I forgave you.
I stood there, in my blue fleece jacket, freezing,
frozen, scared,
telling you that I loved you and that I forgave you,
when I didn't even fully realize what could have just happened.

I walked home.
Oblivious.

I turned off my phone for an hour. I took down my pictures of him on my walls. They're in the top drawer of my tall dresser. I haven't turned my phone back on yet. I don't want to see if hes answered me. If theyre going to be what I think they'll be then I don't want to see them. He's got a rope around the last piece of my heart I was willing to give out to someone. I don't want to let it go yet. I think I have to soon, though. I just want to hang on to the last bits of good feeling I have before he yanks it away from me to keep forever. I didn't feel human when I met him. I don't want to feel inhuman again. I think im going to no matter the odds. Im turning my phone back on now. wish me luck.

It's 10:02 pm. I haven't opened up my phone yet. There's a single message from him waiting to be seen. I'm scared.

here I go

It wasn't as bad as I expected. But he didn't answer all my questions. Though, I did bombard him with a lot of them, so.

I thought I wanted to remember, but now I just want to forget.

I feel like i'm in a dream. A nightmare that I can't wake up from. I'm going for a walk. I need to leave.

He's ignoring me now. I guess I deserve it. I wish I had the guts to block him so that im not tempted to text him or snap him. SO he could live his life now and be happy without interference from me. I wish I knew how to explain why I did what I did, why I broke up with him, in a way that he would understand. I wish he understood my feelings. Or made an effort to. But it's not reasonable for me to ask that of him. Maybe it was unreasonable to ask him to talk to me when I had no one last night. Not one of my closest "friends" answered my call. not one. I was alone and scared. And not a single person answered. I called every person that I thought I could count on. Bobby, Carolyn, Victoria, Luke... I even texted Mark and asked him to wake her up for me. I guess I know now.

I'm pretty sure he hates me. If not, then I know he strongly dislikes me. I feel burnt out today. I don't want to try today. No matter what I do, it won't make a lick of difference to him. I could become exactly who he wanted me to be, and still he'd whisper "too bad." I could become the nicest person in the world and still he'd say "too bad." You haven't got a clue what it felt like to hear him say "Well Mariem is being to me right now what I wish you were to me a month ago." And what's that? Stable? Perfect? She's perfect isn't she? A perfect little Mormon girl for him to be friends with. I wonder if he can hear the jealousy dripping off my pen. I wonder if he can hear me ******* it back into my body because I don't want to be jealous of someone I don't know. There's no point in being jealous. It's a vile and destructive disease.

I want to go home. I don't want to be anywhere where there's a reminder of him today. I don't want to love someone who I know hates me. Ive been in this situation with Mark. I loved him, and he hated me and I ruined myself loving someone who didn't love me back. I feel exactly how I felt four years ago. I don't want to love someone who doesn't love me. It ruined me. It will again. It will.

I'm going to take the time today to think about the things that I like about him. From physical assets to his personality traits. I'm really going to think about it. I'm going to put my phone on airplane mode today. (Gotta have that handy dandy lowes app).

A forethought: If we got back together, I never have thought about the things that I would change sexually for him. I never gave him head enough, and I know he likes it a lot. I'll do it more often on the chance that we'll get back together someday.

Back to the things I like about him. I guess I'll start off with physical.

Its hard to know where to start.
He has almond shaped eyes with long spidery lashes. Sometimes I get lost in their deep cappuccino color. They make me blush. (I blushed tonight when I looked into them before he kissed me). I especially love it when he wears light blue. It makes them pop. He has a strong face. High cheekbones and a wide jaw and strong chin. God he's so ******* handsome. And his skin on his face is textured, but I love it because I think it's unique specifically to him. I think that his smile, though, is something that will warm me up every time I see it. His real smile. It reaches across his whole face, and up to his eyes where they crinkle at the corners. What did Hunny call it? A 'John Denver' smile, because it lights up the room. She's right. I can't help but smile when he smiles.

It's late now. 10:32 PM. A while ago, I got back from brandon's house. We had ***. Rough, amazing ***. Maybe a little passionate too. We both wanted it pretty badly. We both wanted to get our feelings out. He said he didn't really get any out, but I know I did. At the end, when he finished, it took me all I had not to cry. All of my bad feelings left me when I orgasmed. I thought I would be left feeling empty like I normally did when I used *** as my #1 outlet. I wasn't. Everything I had ever known about being happy was what I was left with. I wanted to cuddle up on his chest like I normally do, but I didn't because I knew he didn't want that. I don't even think he wanted me to stay for as long as I did. I wanted to snuggle with him as a way of silently saying "I love you" to him without actually saying it. But I didn't because he would have been uncomfortable. I liked the way he kissed me. He started off gently. Maybe passionately too? I don't know. They weren't just empty kisses. They had feelings behind them, I just don't know what they were. I wish he would have elaborated more on the feelings he let out. Maybe he'll think about them tomorrow. Maybe he'll tell me if he wants to. He made a comment about me being bi. He said "Oh, so you wouldn't date me if I was a woman?" He said it to be funny, but that's not why I remember it. He made it seem like... I don't know. He used the wrong tense, I guess. Like we're still together, even though I know that he didn't think that. He didn't mean that. (For the record, I would still date him either way). I don't know. I don't know anything except that giving him up was by far the biggest regret of my entire life thus far. I've done many regrettable things, but this one takes first place. But for now, not having me around that much seems to put him in a better mood, and whatever makes him happy is something that I will do.

I have to sleep now. I'm so tired.

If you read this, I love you.

Around 930 AM.

My favorite barista is working today. His name is Zach. I was going to write about how badly i feel. I thought it was going to last because I got a positive feeling. It went away though. It was ruined by this ******* song. Now i can't stop imagining him with other people. Would my life be different if i never met him? I wonder where he would be and where i would be. Maybe the same place? Maybe not. Maybe I'd be worse off than i am now. Maybe he would've been better with Jessica. Or anyone else he would have met. I guess he missed a lot of better opportunities. It's easier to assume he doesn't care. If i convince myself that he hates me, maybe it'll be easier to control my feelings.

This is my life now and I ******* hate it. He just asked me to bring his xbox by. To drive all the ******* way back to my house and BACK AGAIN to his house. (Not to mention he BLEW ME OFF LATER IN THE DAY TO HANG OUT WITH MARIEM BUT WHATEVER).

Sometime before 10 pm

I am fuming tonight. How can he know everything that I'm feeling but keep me in the dark and not even try to tell me what he's feeling? How can he expect me to be perfect right off the bat? Does he???? I wonder if he expects me not to slip up. I wonder if his first immediate thought when I'm in a bad mood now is "has she really been trying to change?" The answer is yes, i have been. I've made a bigger effort now than i have ever made.

Space between paragraphs are breaks in my thoughts. I was raging out for the past few minutes. Silently fuming in my bedroom about that little mormon **** and the fact that he's with her right now. I probably shouldn't have written that about her just now. It was said out of anger, and anger makes people do unfortunate things sometimes. I think I just need to stop hanging onto the things that **** me off. Like the fact that at the end of the day, I'm only an afterthought to him. Or that he'd rather talk to anyone except me. Or that he's just too busy to care about me. I have to remember that "it's just not apparent right now." Maybe I just shouldn't care. It seems like that's exactly what he's doing. I could be wrong. I probably am. But he also doesn't seem to care about it enough to think about it like I do. I wish I was as gentle a soul as Little Latter Day Saint. Maybe then I'd be his type, and he'd take the time to think about it, but instead I'm just something to **** right now.

I'm getting angry again. I think I'll leave for now.

Im waiting for him at coffee rush. He's probably finally going to tell me all of his feelings. It's going to be exactly what I don't want to hear. I know it is. I can feel it. It smells like earth worms outside today. Today will be the day that my life changes I think. To another course. Maybe forever. I don't know if I am ready for such a change. I don't think I want it to.

When he got there, I was smoking a cigarette. He asked me if I had smoked at all while we were together. I told him the honest truth, that I hadn't and that I was only doing it to feel something familiar. We talked about our days and our plans for the day. He's hanging out with Mariem later, and I'll be where? Home? I don't think I want to stay "home." Anyways. Then came the part I've been dying to hear. He told me he's been thinking about it a lot. It was "hard to NOT think about it." His decision was as follows:

"I talked to my mom, dad, and Austin. I haven't talked to Nick yet... But anyway, I don't think that it's in my best interest to date you again. They think so too. There's a fear of getting hurt again, but there's also the positive hope that I wont and that's something to possibly look forward to, but right now it's just not my best interest. I don't feel like I love you, so... And if we're meant to be together, then it will happen, but I don't want to give you more false hope."

We had a little more awkward conversation, and he kept looking at me funny. I knew he was going to say exactly that thing. I am not angry, nor am I heartbroken. I love him. I will always, probably. I am only a little sad. More so fearful of the lonely world I have just entered. For some reason, I am perfectly calm. I don't think it's going to be alright, but I think I just fell too far down the black hole to care anymore. I blocked him on social media and everywhere. The only thing I haven't blocked is his phone number. If he truly needs to talk to me, he'll just have to text me instead. Again, I am not mad at him. Not upset. I just think I don't feel anything. I swallowed everything I was feeling at Coffee Rush. I locked it up and put it back in a dusty old box, and shoved it on the highest unreachable shelf.

"I'm letting my one tear escape! There it is, haha!" I told him. I told him I was weirdly happy but in all truth, the remaining ruins of my old walls have been rebuilt in a matter of an hour. I hope he sees this. I hope he understands. But then again, why would I waste my time on hopes when they never come true.

"Stop wishing, and just accept it." A stranger said that to me once. I'll swallow the pill without a grimace or a thought and just accept it.

I looked at her, beautiful and powerful
In the light of the fire and she said
"Leave one wolf alive,
And the sheep are never safe."

-j

She's such an ***. She has no respect for anybody.*
It's okay. You can't blame her. I can't imagine the kind of hurt she feels right now.
They talk about me as if they know what I'm thinking.
What I'm feeling.
They have no idea my state of mind,
yet they act like they do.
It's amusing, and

That's the funny thing.
I feel no hurt.
I am perfectly happy.
But the fact that you lied to me,
and that you continue to be a **** to me
is why I don't care about you right now.
If you died right now
I would shrug and move on.
I do not care about you at all.

sunshine lands lightly on her eyelids,
sparks of orange and yellow
glide across her eyes.

image like a kaleidoscope
colorful and interesting, hard to resist.

a child playing in the front yard
on a summer's day
and laughter fills the air.

she is at peace when she feels the grass
under her feet.

a comforting blanket that she once had
ripped to shreds and sewn
back together again;

a flame in the darkness,
a star on Orion's Belt.

all she feels is the heat of serenity in knowing
that it might be okay now
and the sun has started to peak over the horizon,

covering her skin and
giving her the closure she needed.

a fish in a tank getting scared by vibration,
but it's just a dream.

he is not that person anymore;
she smiles.
she remembers what it was like to belong to him,

but she remembers so much else now;
her brain is a happy butterfly.

the sunlight through the trees pierce his mint green eyes.
snow falls around them
but she is warm.

damp grass sticks to her legs
in the warm Wisconsin spring.

he giggles at the imprint it leaves.
she smiles mischievously and finds her prey;
she throws a worm at him.

smiles and laughter warm like embers of a fire.
she remember that she used to love him.

like cats and mice she hated him,
for a long time.
he was the pesticide to her beloved spiders entangled in webs.

he lingered and she hated it.
but not anymore.

she still loves him, but as old friends love each other.
a familiar kind of feeling;
reminiscent of a happier time and better places.

like George Webber in new York;
homesick, but content.

Everything always seemed to happen by your house,
and hidden by the trees.

It was a couple weeks after I slapped you.
We were in the woods again.
The snow was melting, and the frozen muddy ground
was visible again.
I sat down on a log, and you sat next to me.

"I really want to try. Can we please just try it?"

You looked at me, pleading for me to try to have *** with you.
But the thing is, you knew I'd never had *** before.
I was scared, and you knew that.

"If you loved me, you would try."

Being fifteen years old and a suicidal wreckage,
I didn't want you to leave me.
I was naïve enough to think this was love.
I agreed that I would try, not that it would go anywhere.

You laid down your jacket, so that neither of us would get muddy.
I started to pull off my pants, but I left my underwear on.
I just wanted to get used to the idea of your **** near that area.
I explained that to you, and you seemed to get it.

"Are you ready?"

I told you no, that I wasn't ready for any of this.
But I would do it for you because I love you.
You pulled off my underwear, and got yourself into position.
My heart was pounding. I kept saying for you to go slow.
And you did.

As your **** began to touch, I started to panic.
I was stuck, frozen in terror.
I had never had *** before, and I 100%  knew I wasn't ready to yet.
As you put your tip in, I remember that it started to hurt really bad.

"STOP. STOP. I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS, PLEASE STOP."

You didn't though.
Instead, you pinned me down,
putting your weight against my struggling body.

"No, I don't want to. Just let me get it in once, and then I'll stop."

My heart dropped.
This is where I began to panic.
I felt you try to put it in just a little more, but the pain was too much.
I let out a small scream, and then I started to cry.

And that's where you started to panic.
You got off of me, looking hurt and upset.
I put my clothes back on, and you picked up your jacket.

I was reeling. I was scared.
And you were mad because your jacket got *****.
I was still crying, and after what seemed like an eternity you
asked if I was okay.
I played it off like everything was fine.
Heaven forbid I hurt you.

Yes. That was just really scary. I asked you to stop, and you didn't and I just got nervous, that's all.

We went to your house.
You walked me home.

I'm not a bad friend.
I asked your permission before I messaged him.
I just made a bad choice.

Sometimes,
All I want to do is run my fingers
Through your curly red hair.
To caress your face
And feel the texture of your beard
Under my hands.

Sometimes,
All I want to do is
Look into your pretty, blue eyes
Framed by your pale blond lashes.
To admire the freckles peppered across
The bridge of your nose.

Sometimes,
All I want to do is hear your laugh.
To hear your voice when you get home,
Saying, "Baby, I'm here."

Sometimes,
I miss you so much that it's hard to breathe.
I wish that we could talk.
I wish we could be friends like we were before.
I wish you weren't so stubborn.
I wish I knew why.

Sometimes,
Only sometimes,
I still cry.

The pain is not fiery.
The pain is not cold.
The pain is bitter.

I guess I find I'm not surprised
That all your words were filled with lies.
I just thought that you were perfect;
All this time that I deserved it.

All this time I pined for you;
And you didn't even love me true.
I had to find out about you secondhand,
and the taste of your specific brand.

I thought it would be shocking
to hear that you were **** talking.
Anxious about feeling the fury,
but all it did was humor me.

I don't feel anything anymore.
Anger, sadness, rage, all out the door.
It's not because I'm cold hearted.
It's just that now my heart's departed.

Broken, ******, battle scars;
Clearly we're not in the stars.
I will never love again,
For fear that they'll all be the same.

The day you were born,
I couldn't be there to see you all wrapped up in blue.
Dad called me to say that
the doctors said you were perfectly healthy.

I wanted to come straight away,
but we have different mothers,
and mine would not take me.
I didn't think it was capable for me;
To love you more than I love anything.

I look through your blue-green eyes;
the same ones we share,
and see myself.
I was a happy little nuisance like you.

Your laughter, even when you know
you're being naughty,
Makes me laugh as hard as you do.
I can't help but smile when I think
of you, little brother.

When I lay you down for a nap,
it is relief, but do I get bored
when you're gone?
Yes I do.

Sometimes I sneak in your room
and watch you peacefully sleeping
just to make sure you're okay.

The day you were born,
I couldn't be there to see you all wrapped in blue,
but that matters not,
because nobody loves you more than I love you.

Make like a cigarette
burn out.

-J

I was on the phone with my best friend Blondie,
When she said some words that really shocked me.
She said, though I know she was joking,
"Maybe you need to stay away from people who make you feel like that,
Because it always ends horribly!"
I thought it was silly,
That she could only be kidding.
But then her words rang in my ears
Like bells doing bidding.
Love is supposed to come slow,
Over years and years should it grow.
Maybe this time it will be good.
This time I'll let love's flowers flourish slow
As it should.

Today my mind is filled with the smell of
the burnt oak tree on
cranberry road.
The earth around the tree has regrown it's grass
and the dirt no longer smells like
melted metal and plastic.
The air no longer smells like smoke,
yet all my nose smells is the aroma of
burnt flesh.
Of blood and seat leather.
The fire still burns my skin when I think about it.
There's an empty hole in my heart
that he left when he flew through the stars and back
over the moon.

When someone gets angry at you
for just being nice,
I wonder how bad they must truly be feeling.
I told him just a simple word of advice:
You shouldn't talk bad about people behind their backs. It's not good.
He got angry at me.
Hypocrite.
Liar.
Snake.
He raved about how I let someone talk crap about him
and said nothing.
Because I know that you're better than that.
Ben is a lost cause.
Why waste my breath on someone who wont hear?
He ranted again.
I wonder how bad he must truly be feeling.

I sent him the HP link and told him it explained itself. He says he "probably will" check it every so often. He obviously isn't obligated to, so I don't know why I feel bitter right now. I have to remember that he is trying. And he doesn't even have to do that. But he's doing it because he cares. He cares. It doesn't appear evident to me sometimes, but I think I just had a revelation that he does. He told me if he didn't he would have blocked me and ghosted me out. For some reason, I didn't believe him, but I know now that I was wrong not to trust his word. He wouldn't put in the effort if he didn't. I'm forcing myself to trust him. I'm trying to now. Yes, I know. Too late. But in the time being, I have to trust that he's doing exactly what he says he's doing, because that's all he's ever done. I didn't trust him because I never trust anybody. Been stabbed in the back too many times. I thought maybe living in distrust would mean that I didn't have to feel the pain when someone tried to stab me in the back, but I was wrong. My heart just started to beat extremely fast. I thought I just saw him at coffee rush. It was only someone who carried themselves in the same way as he. That, and the messy brown hair. I have to get used to being alone again. Maybe while I have time to think and now know I have the strength to get better, I'll figure out why I didn't before. I think I'll write down what i'd say to him if I had to say good by for real. Hopefully I will never have to do that, but just in case... It will solidify the things I want to remember.

Maybe I don't want to do that just yet. I'm still trying to make up for what I've done. I also don't want to tell a goodbye tale yet. I don't want to write about it yet. Instead I'll write of the things I want to remember and have been remembering.

I remember when we first met, and my general annoyance at him for not leaving me alone. But I also couldn't keep my own gaze from him. He was just so perfectly handsome.
--I just thought about how he thought I was so beautiful. If he ever saw me bare again, I think he'd think I am ugly. I've never been particularly attractive anyway. I feel like every time he sees me now, he can only think of how ugly I am. But then again, maybe I just think I'm ugly and I'm projecting what I think onto his persona.--
I remember swimming in my pool and feeling a little jealous of the way he talked about Jessica. I also remember how indescribably awesome it felt to be so close to him. I remember our first kiss, and how delicious and delicate it was. How much my heart leapt with love for him in that moment. Being so embarrassed for saying "I love you" too soon in my eyes, but being relieved when he said it back. I remember our first fight and getting through it because we loved each other.
--maybe that's why it seems like it'll be too hard for us to get through this and make it out together. Maybe he doesn't really love me that much anymore. That can't be true. It might be... I have to give him time to get over what happened the other night. When he get's over it, maybe it will come back. I have to remember that what I did was very hurtful to him in his fragile state. It will take him a long while, I imagine. Maybe for me to put it in perspective, I have to make a scenario up to imagine how he feels. How he feels now is probably how I would feel if he kissed someone else. I would be enraged. Maybe the anger and hurt he feels overpowers any love he has, and any ability he has to forgive me. For right now.--

Jack said something to me last night about people who forgive each other. For example, me and Jack. I told jack I wasn't sure if he would ever forgive me. Jack said to "look at us. We hurt each other immensely and we still forgave each other." Jack is one of my best friends now, and I love him very much. Maybe that's how it will work out with me and B.
(I'm going to refer to him as "B" because it hurts to think or say or write his name).

I'm in a significantly better mood now.

.

This is a questionable poem written because I have a whole bunch of curiosities.
I was sitting in my Arizona home like I do on cold days like today
when it occurred to me that
people today are severely lacking in pure curiosity.
I mean, sure, people are curious about some things;
What will happen if I mix drugs with alcohol? What will happen if I eat this Tide Pod?
I wonder if I'll die if I point this gun at my head and pull the trigger.
Sure, all those things are intriguing thoughts, but,
what about thoughts on pollution and world hunger? I feel like that's more important to wonder about.
Or, perhaps people could be more curious about who they really are.
What do they like? Do they know what they want from life? Why are they so mainstream?
These days I find that so many people are in it for the aesthetic.
That they're not being who they are.
Every person I have met has two faces; they remind me of the infamous Greek theatre masks.
I don't think anybody really know who they are, and I find that curious,
in a sad, peculiar, disappointing way.
It's curiously comical.

How fun it would be
To fall down a hole into a far away place,
Full of creatures unknown,
Stories untold,
A universe away from the human race.

How fun it would be
To be able to think all day.
Mad as a hatter,
Crooked as a caterpillar,
With no one to feed your head except
The whispering winds around you.

Oh Alice, dear Alice,
How I do envy you.
Up here, surrounded by malice
Violence, and ever-vacuous people.

Every day we feed our heads with
The words of crooked politicians
And mindless, uncivil movements.

Oh Alice, dear Alice,
This world's time is ticking closer
To the end.

I miss you. I'm thinking about you a lot today. I guess I always think about you around holidays and festivities. I wish you were here. It's been a year and one month, and life still doesn't make sense without you. All Is Vanity was your last album as far as I know, and it makes me so sad to think that you'll never come out with anything again. I wish I could pluck you from heaven just so I could hear you sing again. I've been practicing on making my vocal range as good as yours. You had a voice like honey, but also a voice that could move mountains. Do you remember thinking how your email was broken because you'd refresh it, but there were a hundred more emails to look at? And it was actually just because people kept viewing and commenting on your video? I thought that was the funniest thing. You were so freaked out, and it's funny because you never actually get scared of anything. Except spiders. You hated spiders.... I really miss you, Christina. I hope you're watching Team Grimmie. I hope you're looking out for Marcus and making sure he knows that it wasn't his fault. He beats himself up for not being able to save your life. Please make sure he knows you're okay. I love you, Christina.

The last time i was home,
You wore a blanket of white snow.
You killed your leaves
And the willow trees weeped
For a summer heat from not long ago.
But I remember how your grass smells
In the autumn sun
Or after a warm summer rain.
And I remember how the clouds roll
And how the wind keeps me sane.
It was Christmas when i last came home
And the air was crisp and fresh.
Through whispy clouds the sun had shone,
And your chilly air had pierced my flesh.
But i was not cold standing on the frozen lake,
For i remember your humidity on hot beach days
When i would swim with the pike
Or fly with the gulls
And happiness engulfed my soul.
The last time i was home,
You wore a blanket of white snow.
Your winter beauty will remain permanently in my mind,
But I'll always remember you as a whole.
I don't plan on returning, dear Wisco.
Nothing against you;
I love you more than you know.
But now i think it's time for me to go.

It was a crystal clear night in the winter months.
Though for some reason, the lake wasn't frozen over.
I could see the moon's reflection, and was standing at the shore
when two pairs of footsteps approached me.
A pier manifested over the lake,
leading to a white house on the other side.
"Hey," he said.
I was so shocked that I became a statue.
"It's okay. I'm not angry at you anymore."
He looked at me with a genuine smile. I missed being his friend,
even in light of what happened between us.
I was silent. I didn't say a word.
I don't think I needed to.
He accepted my silent apology.
"Grab my hand and don't let go."
I took his hand, paler than the moonlight,
but warmer than fire.
We walked across the pier, just me, him, and Hunter;
Hand in hand, almost skipping.
The stars were endless, and the temperature was surprisingly warm for the middle of the night in the winter.
We got inside the house and the three of us sat down on the couch.
He gave me a Gameboy and we started to play Pokémon.
Just the three of us.
Like nothing had ever happened.
And I think I miss him more than the anger that I held for him.
More than words can say.

Four years ago I didn’t think I’d be anywhere.
I didn’t think I’d be alive.
But now,
I’m breathing in the ****** air quality of
El Centro, CA.
Stationed at an Airbase near by.
A few things have changed since I last checked in, guys.
I joined the navy, I work aviation.
F-18 fight attack jets.
It’s been a hell of a journey so far.
I went from Great Lakes, to Pensacola, to Virginia Beach, and now I’m here in El Centro.
I’ve made friends.
Bonds that are stronger than titanium, or steel, or concrete.
I’ve lost friends too.
From distance, from death.
But the strangest thing is, we’re always connected.
My friends that are deployed to the South China Sea, when they’re in port
They always message me about how deployment is going.
They don’t forget me.
My friends that are touring around Europe,
Saez is in Greece.
Lockhart is in Norway.
Root is in Italy.
They always message me to tell me about it.
I’m not lonely anymore.
I’m not sad.
I’m so happy.
Every morning I wake up to the sound of Blue Angels flying
And it’s music to my ears.
I have a family again. It’s amazing.

Even now;
Even through the heartache you're giving me,
My heart still skips a beat when I see you.
And instead of cry
I smile.
Even now;
When all you want is space
When you're near me, I can still breathe.
Even now...

We've got a special kind of love.
it's so unbelievable.
I thought you loved me like I love melancholy moods.
But you only loved yourself,
So i have another story to tell,
Hold on, strap your seatbelt
We're about to take off.

You knew that we were all wrong
We were caught up in the ******.
Closer and closer we grew,
And things were getting ****
I want to get to know you, everything about you.
Perfect imperfections and sly innuendos.
And i never said it'd be easy,
But who knew this could be so pleasing?

You're just a basket case,
A yellow-bellied coward.
Why can't you say it to my face?
I'm getting older by the hour.
Time is ticking on, and im starting to get mad.
Erase the feelings of love and most everything we had.

You make you're way in like a venomous snake.
I'm sorry to say there's a line in your way.
The line is the bind between my love and your hate.
You're an unsympathetic ****,
Don't ******* treat me this way.
This simply can't work, trust me i know.
I've got the rage of a madman, so id run,
And run. I'd go.

Go away from me.
Stop feeling sorry for youself.
You want to try to control me, I'm on the highest shelf.
I pity you, honey, i really do.
Lying, manipulating *******, thats you.
You might want to start praying now,
Because im not about to bow.
This is really going to hurt,
So prepare for the worst.

Here's an announcement ladies and gents!
Cat's out of the bag so *******! Get bent.
I aim to please, and i ain't pleasing you.
My heart's on the mend, and oh yeah, *******!

You're just a basket case,
A yellow-bellied coward.
Why can't you say it to my face?
I'm getting older by the hour.
Time is ticking on, and im starting to get mad.
Erase the feelings of love and most everything we had.

You make you're way in like a venomous snake.
I'm sorry to say there's a line in your way.
The line is the bind between my love and your hate.
You're an unsympathetic ****,
Don't ******* treat me this way.
This simply can't work, trust me i know.
I've got the rage of a madman, so id run,
And run. I'd go.

My temper is high, you weak-kneed coward.
The pleasure's all mine you pathetic ****.
You're one of the ******, so you'll be
Locked in the cage.
This story is over, and yet not my rage.

We have a special kind of love,
And it's a dangerous one.
It's one that ends with you...
At the barrel of my gun.

There are many reasons why flowers make good gifts.
Orchids for your mother on Mother's Day
as a reminder that you never forgot that they're her favorite.
Lilies and Tulips for your grandma
because she's always loved the sweet smell.
Once I picked some of my favorite purple and yellow wildflowers
for a little bird  I had to bury.
I picked them because they symbolized the wildness of the bird.
I used to walk down south road and pick the honeysuckle
and the bee balm and place them at the ancient cemetery
to give my respect to the soldiers who lay there.
There are many reasons why flowers make good gifts.
Love and thoughtfulness,
respect,
congratulations...
But there is one reason why it isn't.
Much like everything else, nothing good ever lasts.

Four years ago, I felt like the world was ending.
My friend Christina Grimmie was murdered on June 10th.
On June 12th, 50 people were killed in a night club.
Four years ago 51 people lost their lives to gun violence.
Every year since then, around this time I'm eaten by a certain sadness.
It's hard to describe.
It's like I can't breathe, or I'm taking in oxygen and it's never enough.
It's like theres holes in my lungs and the air is escaping.
Never quite full, never quite the same.
I miss her.
I feel the Pulse family's pain.
Most of all, though, I feel sick.
Like every time I think about what happened I want to *****.
I miss her.
Four years ago and I miss her more and more.

Admittedly, I still read some of your poems.
I did, just now.
You wrote that sometimes you think I forget that you were his victim too.
But.
He never ***** you.
He never abused you.
He never made you feel like you were worthless,
Always the last choice,
And he certainly didn't take your best friend away from you.
I remember picking out your white wedding dress with you.
I remember how beautiful you looked in it,
With it's laced back and fitting form.
I remember being happy that you were happy.
But in the room, as you tried it on,
I also remember feeling a little betrayed.
A thought nagged at the back of my mind:
"How could she do this, knowing what he's done?"
I still don't quite understand how you can be with him.
I don't know what the appeal is.
How could you walk around town holding onto his arm
Without thinking "they know what he is?"
Why do you want to be the girl who married a *** offender?
Why do you want to explain to your neighbors that your husband is on the registry?
I just don't get it...

I meant to add to the last one
That its agonizing for me.
And by that I mean,
I hate not being your friend.
But it's the right thing for me, I think.
It's the only way I'll ever be able to get over it and process properly, cutting ties with you.
Because as long as I'm tied to you, I'm also always going to be tied to him.
And I don't want that.
As much as I love you.
As much as I miss you.
I just can't do it right now.

funny
how she says that you're
a different person.
you
have changed for the better;
a new you.
but
all i can remember is the vicious
version of you.
how
extremely judgmental you were;
building confidence.
the
things you belittled me for;
uncontrollable.
she
says you loved me truly
but not enough.
why
didn't you treat me like you
treat her?
you
were fighting your own demons,
which ones?
me;
you were fighting with me every night
all night.
taking
your issues out on me like they
were my fault.
i
spent my days feeling sorry
for you.
i
should have felt sorry for myself and
forgotten you.

It's been seven months since I last saw everyone that ever mattered to me.
I've been anticipating my homecoming for two months because I missed my family.
I missed my older brother's ridiculous mannerisms,
His goofy laugh and stories.
It's been seven months since I've seen and heard any of that.
I needed my mother, because what child doesn't?
I missed her warm hugs and genuine smiles.
I missed her boyfriend and her silly nicknames she'd come up with for him.
I missed my dad and singing songs around the house with him.
I missed how he'd randomly burst out into song and dance.
I missed the smell of his cologne mixed in with cigarette smoke.
I missed my little brothers and sisters.
The shine in their eyes, the trill of their laughter.
I missed the smell of East Troy after it rains.
The quiet streets at night, and the chill of the air in the mornings.
I missed the lake, the fish, and the bugs.
I'm so happy to be back here spending time with my family and my friends.
That's what I came here to do.
I came here to create memories with my family that I only get to see about twice a year.
My life is perfect right now, and nobody can ruin it.
I'm home, I'm happy, and I don't have to worry about anything or anyone
Except for myself.

All my feelings are gone.
No love.
No hate.
No anger.
No bitterness.
No happiness.
No hope.
It's all gone.

I had a dream of a dead friend once.
Words cannot describe how it made me feel.
He's been dead since May 2017,
but I feel him alive everywhere around me.
I see him,
In Garrett's curly hair.
I see him,
In the fiery red locks that Bridget has.
I see him,
In the blue eyes of my best friend.
I see him in the freckles on Julayne's face.
A long time ago,
I would have said that I hated him.
Maybe a part of me still does.
But a part of me also wishes that I could have said my peace
before the inevitable death came to be.

How can I be happy when the world keeps going?
Don't you guys know that he's dead?
My beautiful, loving, goofy friend
Is dead.
Hunter please come back!
How could he be gone?
How could I be happy when I can't see his face anymore?
I can't ever see his blond hair bouncing around as he walks again.
There's nothing left of my amazing Hunter.
Why aren't they stopping to acknowledge his death?
Don't they know?
I'm so confused.
How can they not have known him?
How could they not have heard of the fiery death he suffered?
How could anyone not have known the amazing, kind, nerdy, dork that was my friend?
Please, take a moment for me.

Take a moment.
Google "Cranberry Road Wisconsin Car Accident Hunter Morby."
He was my friend. I've known him since I was a kid.
Please, just take a moment to acknowledge him.

//
Why must you always haunt my dreams?