Purple lilacs shedding their petals that drift to the ground with each cool breeze.

Just like the season, I am changing.

Stuck between blue water and green houses,
and chilly days that are orange and yellow.

Even though lately I've been stuck behind a filter of grey that far too often turns black.

I am Alice falling down the rabbit hole, watching all of these colors swirl around me, yet unable to grab onto one.

So I'll just enjoy the breeze on the way and hope that where ever I end up is more beautiful than where I am now.

I've still got that nervous pit in my stomach.
He invited me over to see his new place.
I went about an hour before I had to go to work.
My stomach was ******* in knots the whole way there.
I actually parked in the Walgreens parking lot just to give myself a minute.
Repeatedly out loud saying,
Oh my god, oh my God!
Finally I mustered the courage and drove to his house.
I waited a second to see if he would come outside but he didn't.
So I knocked.
He opened the door and said,
"Oh hi! Come in."
He began saying it was still a mess and hasn't fully unpacked.
Of course he looked so good.
Really tan from being outside all day, he was wearing a white cut off and basketball shorts.
I glanced around and said,
"How exciting! I like it."
Then I blurted out that I was nervous.
He said, "yeah it has been a long time since we've seen each other."
I first noticed the built in book shelf in the living room, newly painted white.
He didn't have a lamp so the only light was from a candle and the curtains being drawn a bit.
I sat across from him in a chair, he was on the couch.
He asked if I wanted to smoke even though I had to go to work,
and then he laughed a little and mentioned that he could finally teach me how to roll a joint.
We sat across from each other on the floor and he laid out the **** and some papers and began talking through it.
I was sort of successful, but I insisted we use his paper to smoke.
I was beginning to feel relaxed but time was running out.
We talked a bit about music and he showed me the rest of his house.
Then he asked me,
"Are you really gonna go to work?" And smiled.
I laughed and said, "yes."
He said alright and asked me to come back sometime and help him decorate his place.
I noticed the time and told him I had to go.
As he opened the front door he said,
"I wish you didn't have to leave."
I smiled and said, me either.
Outside he excitedly showed me the marijuana plants some one before him had planted and left behind.
He offered one to me if I wanted.
I just said, I'll think about it.
I began to walk away but turned around and said good bye.
He did too.
I got into my car feeling ******, and jittery.
I can't believe I was in his house.
I can't believe he wanted me to stay.
Then I drove to work as the sun was setting.

I have found myself waiting.
I’m paralyzed in bed waiting for the clock to say 3:30.
When I will drive to see him
for the last time.
I wrote him a letter
but I am not sure it matters
what I say.
Or if I even want to give it to him.
But I’m going to get up.
I have things to do besides wait
all day long for him.
I’ve wasted years of my life waiting
on him and all he’s ever done is disappoint me.

God, I am the worst.
I just went through and deleted so many poems, and I still need to get rid of more.
They are so embarrassing and sound like crap anyway.
An annoying creepy girl just whining.
When did my writing turn into garbage.
I think I need to take a break.
For a long time.
Writing like this has only brought me down, and makes me wish for things that don't matter.
I need to live the life I have now.
Sorry for all of this **** I've been putting out there.
Maybe when I come back I'll actually have something to say.
God, all the great poets before me would be highly dissapointed.

Nobody else knows what it’s like when it’s just you and another person.
They don’t see how often he makes me laugh,
the ugly kind so you know it’s real.
Sometimes he will just stare at me and then go, hmm, and smile as if he’s thinking something sweet.
How he encourages and supports me at the Gym even when I’m struggling to get it right and then tell me how great I did when we leave.
Watching Game of Thrones cuddled up on the couch has become my favorite part of the day because it’s just me and him and it feels like our thing.
He notices little things about me that make him laugh, like how I get flustered when the Roku remote doesn’t seem to work.
He defends me and respects me and cares enough to grab my hands when I can’t stop pulling out my hair.
They don’t see how stupid happy I am ever since that Saturday after Thanksgiving when we just gravitated towards each other and have been together ever since.

I think I just had a very sober thought.

     Just.

Stop
        Caring.

I am so ******* depressed
that I now have what you'd call
functioning depression.
It just never goes away, and I still
have to pay my bills, so.
I sleep all day
and when I'm awake I stay in
my twin bed under the covers,
and watch The X-files or Bob Ross
on Netflix.
I barely take care of myself, which is probably why I have a cold.
Showers are rare. And shaving is too.
I don't have the money to even leave my house, nor do I have friends
to spend time with.
Without my boyfriend, I'd be alone.
At this point I feel that I will be this way for the rest of my life.
Working to work, with no end in sight.
The fact that I can function is a miracle,
because I certainly don't want to.

Sometimes my thoughts come and go so quickly that I feel dizzy.

If this love gets washed down the drain,
discarded like an empty pop can;
If I get stepped all over...

I'm tired of never being enough,
I'll never be enough.

Instead of building a beautiful life with me in my rickety shack,
they jump out of the window and run towards the mansion with a better view.

Recently I have found myself having trouble writing.
And feeling pleased with the outcome.

Someone told me to write what I believe is true, not what I want to hear.

Well I have been writing about you, mostly.
For years now.
And none of it was true.
But it was definitely what I wanted to hear.. from you.

So what do I believe is true?

...

Life is hard.
But, good.
**** happens, but then the weather is nice, or you smoke some good ***.
And you move on.

Always treading through water,
that gets deeper every year.
So you tell yourself,
at least it's not over my head.

But you wonder what will happen when it gets there.

As each day passes we get farther and farther away from each other.
I used to be able to wake up and know you still missed me.
Know that I ran through your mind that day.
I'm farther away from when you put on Fear and Loathing and handed me a beer, only to take it from my hand later and kiss me for the first time.
That bond we had is gone now.
We talk every few months or comment on each other's facebook posts.
We used to see each other every day.
I miss you all the time.
I never told you that I loved you.
But I did.
I loved you like crazy

Ya know....

I could really use one of those,

long talks right about now.

The quiet ones.

I'm tired of doing this.
I'm tired of trying.
I want to move back home,
into my tiny bedroom,
with panel walls.
I don't want to try to pay the bills
all by myself in this apartment
anymore.
I have no health insurance,
so now I have to buy my birth control.
Everyone seems to think I'm doing
so well for once in my life,
but I'm not.
I am so poor,
I go hungry everyday,
I go without the things I need,
things my dog needs.
I don't want to be 20 anymore.
So I am crying so hard into my pillow,
I can't breathe.
I need help.
Will things ever get better?
Or will I end up losing everything I go broke for?
I don't want to get out of this bed,
I am so ******* depressed.
I hate my life.

This morning I listened to George Harrison's last album and the slow sweet strumming of his guitar sounded like summer and of course you were brought back to me.

I don't know what's gotten into me.
Maybe it's because today gave Ohio a little taste of spring,
or because the radio keeps playing good music.
I always feel better in warmer weather.
I decided to start living healthier.
Get my confidence back,
get my body back.
It's time to start feeling and being better.
I want to learn more and find out what I'm capable of.
Even flowers have to learn how to grow.

Try to remember what my therapist taught me.
Try to implement the techniques.

But truthfully the only solution to anxiety is action.
Results.
Solving the problem.

Otherwise the closet continues to get fuller, overflowing with thrift store jackets, Christmas decorations, and worry.
The life changing magic of tidying up also works on the brain.

is an apartment,
that has 3 bedrooms,
but not enough living space
for that number of people.
I live here alone.
It's not modern,
but nice in a simple way.
I love that I can utilize every
room the way I want to.
The other night I ate my dinner
at the dining room table,
instead of my lap.
This place has grown on me.
Here lately I've gone between
feeling proud of myself,
and doubtful.
But I'm doing this.
All on my own.
I can't wait for the writing material.

I try so ******* hard to be happy.
I try so hard to be positive.
I try.

But, I still feel.
I still feel like my life is over and I'm only 21.
All because I couldn't finish college.
Every adult I meet tells me to go back to school like its that simple.
I don't even know what I want to do with my life, still.

I know I just need a break, I need to breathe.

I want to be crazy in love again.
I want to feel butterflies.
I want to smile all day because of that person.
I want to be so happy I could die.
I want someone to take care of me, and be obsessed with me.
I want to have someone that likes doing what I like.
I want to stop feeling single, even though I'm not.

I'm ready for LOVE.