Aug 2016
Little blue-eyed girl spent every day loving.
You could almost see the love oozing out of her eyes when she stared into your soul.
Or the happiness radiating through her fingertips when she held your hand.
She was the color yellow.
She was the sunshine and the dandelions, the lemon lollipops and countless smiles.
Little blue-eyed girl loved with all she had in her.
She touched every human soul she knew
Except her own.
Sometimes, little blue-eyed girl forgot about herself.
But she never forgot to call the girl across the street or help the boy with the beautiful hair find a date.
But sometimes she forgot herself.
She wrote less,
Smiled less,
Thought about herself less,
Talked less.
But she cried more.
Suddenly, little blue-eyed girl realized she had forgot how to love herself.
She distantly remembered the days when she looked at herself in the mirror and smiled.
The girl who loved her small hands and her warm smile were like ghosts dancing in her brain.
She remembered the pigtails and the overalls that she had burned when he told her to.
She couldn’t remember when doodling on her arm in class had transitioned into counting down the ticking minutes in anxiety.
Her countless days of self love weren’t countless anymore.
She didn’t even know how to count anymore.
Where did all the love go?
And then she remembered the boy with the floppy hair that she poured her soul into and he batted her away.
Or the girl with thick, raven curls that told her she was too much to handle, too strange to talk to.
Or the boy with the freckles that drained her of love.
The one who made her keep on giving when she had nothing left to give.
He drained her like a strawberry milkshake and he made sure to slurp up the remains at the bottom so there would be nothing left.
No, little blue-eyed girl didn’t have anxiety or depression.
She didn’t know someone who had committed suicide or had died.
She didn’t have a drinking problem, a drug problem.
Little blue-eyed girl didn’t have an illness that you can put a label on and prescribe medication for.
There was nothing wrong with little blue-eyed girl then.
Was there?
Diagnosis: “she gave more love than she could ever receive”
-Olivia Wirth
8 / 9 / 16
You could almost see the love oozing out of her eyes when she stared into your soul.
Or the happiness radiating through her fingertips when she held your hand.
She was the color yellow.
She was the sunshine and the dandelions, the lemon lollipops and countless smiles.
Little blue-eyed girl loved with all she had in her.
She touched every human soul she knew
Except her own.
Sometimes, little blue-eyed girl forgot about herself.
But she never forgot to call the girl across the street or help the boy with the beautiful hair find a date.
But sometimes she forgot herself.
She wrote less,
Smiled less,
Thought about herself less,
Talked less.
But she cried more.
Suddenly, little blue-eyed girl realized she had forgot how to love herself.
She distantly remembered the days when she looked at herself in the mirror and smiled.
The girl who loved her small hands and her warm smile were like ghosts dancing in her brain.
She remembered the pigtails and the overalls that she had burned when he told her to.
She couldn’t remember when doodling on her arm in class had transitioned into counting down the ticking minutes in anxiety.
Her countless days of self love weren’t countless anymore.
She didn’t even know how to count anymore.
Where did all the love go?
And then she remembered the boy with the floppy hair that she poured her soul into and he batted her away.
Or the girl with thick, raven curls that told her she was too much to handle, too strange to talk to.
Or the boy with the freckles that drained her of love.
The one who made her keep on giving when she had nothing left to give.
He drained her like a strawberry milkshake and he made sure to slurp up the remains at the bottom so there would be nothing left.
No, little blue-eyed girl didn’t have anxiety or depression.
She didn’t know someone who had committed suicide or had died.
She didn’t have a drinking problem, a drug problem.
Little blue-eyed girl didn’t have an illness that you can put a label on and prescribe medication for.
There was nothing wrong with little blue-eyed girl then.
Was there?
Diagnosis: “she gave more love than she could ever receive”
-Olivia Wirth
8 / 9 / 16
