I dyed my hair today and couldn't stop thinking of all the people I would disappoint, but I dyed it anyway. I woke up today and thought about all the people I would disappoint, but I continued my day. See this life is filled with those who wish to keep you just as you are. But you, you are every-changing, obsolete and beautiful anyway. I try to tell myself I don't care about the people I upset by making the decisions that make me happy, but it doesn't hurt any less. I have become a gray, middle-area of who people want me to be. I have grown so accustom to others customs that I'm not sure where I belong anymore. No one seems to be around anymore and I have dug my own grave. Somehow this feels lonely again, the same loneliness I have tried to run away from. And just when I turn around to look, thinking I lost it, there it is as I turn back around standing in front of me, awaiting my next move. I may never rid of lonely. I may never be myself again.

I will breathe you in. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Repeat. Consistency is never my strong point but the only thing I tend to keep doing no matter what is breathing and blinking. My lungs have collapsed from the pressure of drowning too far into the deep end. My ears have popped and I feel that urge to breath again, but can’t quite get back up to the surface fast enough. I can feel myself giving up just as the break that surface and gasp for that breath of fresh air I have waited so long for, and that’s what loving you feels like. Relief. I have spent my days stuck in the dark because I couldn’t find my way around these walls I have built for myself. I wasn’t responsible enough to remember, I needed light. That’s when you broke down the walls I was confined in with your sledge hammer heart and built me the moon with only your bare hands. You told me you loved me fast and nervously and I knew then you were my lighthouse, my nightlight, and my bedside lamp. Always there for when I needed light. You’re my breath of fresh air on a humid day and you make me feel like walking into a refreshing air conditioned house on the hottest day of summer. My cup of hot chocolate after an all day battle with snow ball fights and sled rides. I’ll never need the drugs most people abuse because you are my high.

I am broken, again and again and again I try to put myself back together but these thoughts, and these uncontrollable emotions will not let me. I have been bent by instances from before. These hands will not let go even when I try to pry them off of what's been holding me back. Ridicule is what I am used to and in some sense it is comforting. But the incessant lack of decency that surrounds me makes everything seem so bleak. I am tired of being sorry for these things I feel and I'm exhausted trying to hide my pain for you.. Bottling up these things that hold me down is harder than I had ever imagined and I wish I could erase the pain  I feel for you but that can't happen. I cannot just wish away these things I wish to wash away, if only it was that easy. I am broken and your contribution isn't much but it somehow makes a difference. I need to find myself again and I need to get away before the elephant in the room tramples over everything I've worked so ******* hard for. I have no words anymore.

I try to be the person I’ve wanted myself to be all along. And I try to make you listen to these words I speak and hope you understand. But some things just don’t happen the way we want them to. And the days we want to sit out and watch the stars, the sky is blank and so are our minds. So I cherish the days my mind is filled with regret, and memories, mostly of the days I wish to wash away with those regrets. I will take each galaxy and paint them across my emotions just to show you what I feel is more than just an expression. I feel so low when the days are the same and even when the sun is out I remember when it rains and I’m not sure that will ever change. These moments of euphoria weigh out the moments of extreme distress when clutching a bottle to my chest seems to be my only savior, I savor those moments of mania because they make for a **** good story to tell. My days are numbered and so are yours. Whatever comes will make me or break me in ways that will alter me. Maybe the love for myself won’t be enough, but I’m willing to figure it out. I’ve spent years hating who I am and that’s the most exhausting thing I’ve done to myself. I woke up.

I hear myself think, but I can't ever hear myself talk. I mean I do but it's not in a voice I recognize anymore and I think I'm inbetween finding myself and losing myself. I'm not really sure which way I will go, maybe a little bit of both because that would the road less traveled right? So wouldn't that make all the difference? See I have an inference that if I try hard enough to control these things in which I don't think I can, I someday will and whether it be true or not it's hope that keeps me going. I am alive and it's weird to say because so sooo many times I wished I were dead. On every star in that **** sky I wished I had never been alive, but now it's so different. I wish on the stars to keep living and I wish for adventures and culture and **** maybe one day even children- maybe thats too far... and maybe the road I have paved for myself is mediocre because I have never done it before, but ******* I tried my best. These fists will no longer drag me down and this mind will no longer hold me back. I am not chained to anything anymore except some words on a page and in thirty minutes it will be tomorrow and I will see a new day again, one I had wished so long ago wouldn't come. But tomorrow, I will see the sun and the clouds and feel the grass on my feet and I will remember that even your self esteem can blow off some steam and your worries are just water weight you need to get ****** and **** out before you let them weigh you down. Stick around kid, it's worth it.

I hope for second chances in life, not those in which I don’t deem myself worthy of at least. I mean, I want another chance to speak these words to an open canvas of people and watch the expressions that fill their faces as I spill my guts on their shoes and reveal a little more about myself than they would infer someone my age had went through. I long for that gaze. It is filled with sorrow and regret and love and peace all in the same moment and I think that’s the only time I have experienced euphoria. I believe in life there always lies a second chance at something, or someone. But the second I chance that second of chance I become deranged and paranoid and I succumb to the pressures my anxiety puts me under and wonder when she will stop being such a psychotic ***** and give me a chance to live my life again. I haven’t been the same since the Effexor filled my veins and I’ve been scratching at my surface ever since, looking for a chance to find myself again.

I tell myself to rebuild these broken wings I find myself soaring upon, but I realize the necessary tools are missing. I try to get a handle on my current situation but I realize there's no handle on my bedroom door anymore and I am trapped again. I have made a mess of the remains out of broken dry wall and picture frames.  I rebuild, rebuild, rebuild but it's never like it was before. The paint is two-toned and some things can't be covered with a painting of your face next to mine. Some things can't even be patched up. Such as the way your eyes seem to guide me into a world that seems too daunting to stay inside. I let the breeze carry me away and hope the broken wings can still soar despite the damage that has been done. I have made a bed out of all my regrets and have no issues laying in it anymore and nowadays I tend to sleep better than I live. I have seen the misery in your eyes when the thought of me waking up without you on my mind crossed yours, and I've never felt so low. Plausibility isn't always the best reality and I know with you we have our differences, but that doesn't make a difference to me. Maybe the days I deem dull are just a distant memory and every time I wake up without you is a day I want to get through just to see you. Sappiness is not in my agenda, but intentions lead to attention on some occasions and I would like to spend every occasion with you.. Loving you has been the best thing I have ever done for myself. The first decision I made without anyone but myself in mind was when I said you could call me yours. Please believe me when I say, I will always be yours even if the day comes that we expire, I will age like fine wine, with you always still on my mind.