I find myself too easily falling for
people who could never love me back.
I’ve decided that love just *****.
It takes a physical form.
With nail biting,
and finger tapping,
and fiddling with my ring
until it gets stuck on the wrong finger
and I panic because I can't get it off.
It comes in a form of the senses.
When I can't see
because everything has blurred together,
or the only thing I can hear is
that high pitched ringing--
a dog whistle that only I can hear.
Or when I feel too warm,
despite it being twenty degrees Fahrenheit.
It's especially bad when my breathing stops and starts at a rapid pace--
but I assure you I do not have asthma.
It comes in an emotional form.
When monotone voices sound like shouting, scaring me into a corner--
the mouse trapped by the cat.
Or the end of a sad movie,
when I can't control my tears.
Or even the anger built up by paranoia and delusions
that everyone is staring at me, watching me break when in reality--
everyone is engaged elsewhere.
Anxiety does funny things.
But when it happens..
it's most definitely
you made me feel as if I were on
with my heart soaring with
shooting stars made
of crystals containing
"I love you"s and cute messages.
even clouds dissipate;
and stars eventually fall back to earth most of the time.
I miss her.
It's been a short while.
A little over a month,
But I've known her for well over six.
It started off small,
with conversation in the group.
But then the group conversations turned
And then texting came into play.
And on one night,
when she was high from her medicine,
she told me--
"When it's time I want you to ask me."
I said okay.
Then she said--
I said okay.
And on August thirteenth I said--
"Will you be mine?"
And she said--
I've learned it doesn't take long,
for me to fall,
and fall hard.
It doesn't take long for me
to become blind by affections.
She's all I think about.
In the morning,
and at the late, late hours of the night,
when I finally fall asleep.
I'm afraid of how fast I have fallen.
I'm afraid of getting hurt.
She's only two hours away--
Can this be it?
Will I finally be happy or--
or will she take my heart only to
crush it the way Georgia did?
I know this isn't healthy,
but God I feel like I've fallen again,
into the swifting, winding stream
does it feel good to drown again.
Hello, past me.
I am you, but now eighteen.
I wanted to tell you
All of the things you have to look forward to,
And the things you will dread.
You will move away from our old home. You will lose friends like Jenah, who was there all along but you lost touch somewhere in the middle.
You will watch your best friend begin the transition of his life. It'll be confusing, and you will question yourself, but when you fully understand the word transgender and genderqueer you will find yourself again.
You will be heartbroken. By both boys and girls. You will get torn down each time. But you will build yourself back up.
You will start smoking.
But it helps you stop harming.
Nana will pass when you start high school.
But you will battle through it.
Olivia will go off to the military. You'll talk to her every few months. You won't talk to Kyra, or Chris, or Richele.
You will break Madi's heart.
But you will graduate high school. You will see the mackinac bridge, and Washington DC and start to drive. You will make new friends online and in person, and you will be an honorary aunt. You will meet a little boy by the name of Chase who will literally save your life.
It gets better. I promise.
Your 18 year old self.
I thought I meant something to you.
I thought you liked me
the way I liked you.
Turns out I'm just there to give my love and not expect a thing in return.
I'm as useless as the white crayon.
And yet you still haven't responded to me-
You were never my black paper- my one and only match.
Why can't I just stop talking to you?
Don't mess with a broken girl's heart.
For she will trust,
and be broken when
you inevitably don't feel the same.
Written on one of those 3 AM nights.