Most girls love having crushes.
The thought of someone new.
Asking themselves, “Is this it? Could this be the one?”
Allowing themselves to be hopeful that this one will be different.
But then there’s girls like me.
Girls who have anxiety.
I hate the feeling of liking someone new.
I hate having crushes.
While other’s get butterflies,
I get angry wasps.
My heart doesn’t skip a beat.
Instead it pounds against my chest like I just ran a marathon.
I don’t blush.
My chest heats up and gets covered in red splotches.
When I look down at the ground I’m not doing it to be cute.
It’s better to look at the ground than to look into another set of eyes that will never love you.
While some girls lose sleep out of pure bliss,
I lose sleep because of fear of rejection.
I’m not asking myself, “Could this be the one?”
No, I’m asking myself, “How will this one break my heart?”
But I will let this crush crush me.
I’ll soak in my hurt.
Make myself fully aware of the tears running down my face.
Remember how they feel.
And I will move on.
Like I always do.
“Weeping may last through the night,
But joy comes with the morning.”
Psalms 30:5

The brightness
of the morning sky
pierces my eyes
birds gladly chirping
in merry exultation
a distant radio blabbers
hunkering for someone's
valuable attention...

The leaves appear to me
as lovely emeralds --
a beautiful, greenish hue
the trees sway monotonously
as if compelled
in a steady dance
absentee music:
silence.

I am aware.

Today marks one month of sobriety.
I’m happy with myself I’m staying clean.
I’m experiencing first hand why getting clean seems like an insurmountable task,
why it’s inherently formidable.
It’s not because of the task of getting clean itself, its because of everything that’s in my face while I’m clean-
the trauma, the distressing emotions & thoughts, the self defeating conditioning. It’s all clear as day, it’s inescapable now.

Being naive is undeniably more blissful,
Better than this self aware nonsense