september 2016
four-and-a-half months of almost nothing besides the comforting grey fleece of yours that I ashamedly clung onto, foolishly thinking that would freeze everything between us that once was.
now I can't help but feel stupid when I look back that I missed the signs I was just playing your next victim.
**** it, it just felt nice to have someone who cared and you barely had to put any effort in but it was enough to keep me radiating with happiness.
and now I am sure that it is merely the idea of you that haunts me almost five months later, because the presence of present you sure as hell isn't the same version of the you that's stuck in my head.
you know that I wanted you and to do you good at that, but of course you had to push me away because who has time to care let alone be cared about?
ha, caring
not a thing about how it used to be makes sense in the now, but I know I'm just wasting my thoughts away thinking about that.
you're still playing this game though and I wish you would stop.
I'm playing this game back but we both know I don't stand a chance.
a simple "What are you doing" and "Come over?" and BAM, I'm all yours.
except, just this last time something was real different that I don't think I'm going to be able to shake.
ran around for an hour in the rain trying to meet up with you as I still didn't want to let you down despite all of your *******.
when my teeth- chattering, soaked from head-to toe self finally made it to you and laid beside you in bed, it felt just like old times for a split second or two.
it was then that I reminded you that I still had your hoodie.
you barely remembered that I still had it and acted as though you couldn't even remember why you let me borrow it in the first place.

december 2016**
**** it, another 3 months came and went and i never built up the nerve to throw your hoodie back at you and walk out of your life.
every time i went to do so you crept back in as though you had missed me, i knew better that you hadn't but i wanted so badly to believe it.
i don't understand why i can't shake the good times we've shared in the past and why i just can't seem to move on.
back in september i couldn't even sleep next to you because i barely recognized the version of you lying next to me. guilt consumed my entire being and i had to get up and leave your embrace. lying alone in my own bed had never seemed more appealing in my life. with that thought, i left your side at 5 am that crisp September morning and ran across town to my apartment and vowed to never put myself in that predicament again. that predicament, of course, being your faux caring embrace, your toxic kisses, and your complete naivety. i like to tell myself that you are just naive to how much hurt you have truly caused me, because otherwise some of what you have done (if intentional) should be a **** crime. it ***** feeling as though i am not enough for you, i don't know why i care but that's all i've wanted to be. as the weather got colder, i got weaker. although i promised to give you up, i still wanted you near me. after a few too many drinks, i seem to continue to become a mere thought in your mind. stupid me, i seem to always get this confused as you actually giving a flying **** about me. if i said that i want more than anything to leave you in the past, i'd unfortunately be lying to myself. i know this needs to be done, but all i can hope for now is that sooner rather than later- the flicker of hope that i still have extinguishes itself.

to be continued.........

Sometimes in life we struggle,
Other times we don't, it shows us that we're human.

Coming to the realization that this
Life is our only
One and we should make the best of it.
Struggling is a sign of having a good life.
Everyday is a new day to start anew;

Together we can bring peace to
Others, share the love and bring down the

Hate! We're all in this together
And together is how we can bring
Peace to this world.
People running fast, not enjoying what life
Is about; What's all around us. So stop and
Notice what's around you
Each day, smell the flowers, see the beautiful
Sunrises and sunsets and just know
Someone else may be having a bad day too-You're not alone.

                         *It will get better after the darkness fades!

Maroon, crimson, dark red.
Whatever color you want to call it,
it sits balled in front of me on my old bedside table.
You want it back because it has "sentimental value,"
your brother bought it for you before he went off to the military
and it cost him seventy dollars.

On the top shelf of my current bedside table,
at the back, hidden from light, from sight,
sits the ring you bought me that cost over two hundred dollars,
the ring that signified a promise that you swore you'd keep.
You asked if it bothered me to have, if it hurt,
and I told you that it didn't.
You said that I should keep it.
You say the hoodie has sentimental value but I sit here with a ring of mineral,
real diamond centered on its band,
coveted only by the box you presented it to me in when you tricked me into finding it,
when you told me you'd love me until the day that you died.
The ring that later represented not only our connection,
our relationship,
but our engagement that I hear you're denying ever happened.

You did not ask for the ring back.

You never said that it held "sentimental value,"
but your seventy dollar hoodie from the brother who has given you
fear to be touched by unprecedented betrayal,
does.

I cannot help but wonder how you are not bothered by an item that once held such meaning
no longer being in your possession.
I cannot help but wonder why you have not mentioned it.
I cannot help but wonder if you hear a certain artist in the car, or with friends,
and think of me but do not say anything in fear of making a scene.
I cannot help but wonder if you are still in love with me.

If a hoodie can hold such sentimental value and the ring you proposed to me with does not,
did the words
" I love you "
mean less than
" I'm trying to get over you "
when you said them within a week of one another?

Am I never meant to know?

I fear I am not privileged enough to know whether or not these words,
these things that have passed through my life were ever meant to mean
more than a cool March night of lying on the roof of your car,
staring at the constellations and wishing to be with you forever
when I saw the shooting stars.
I fear that I am no longer privileged to say no one knows you like I do.

You said you wanted your hoodie back,
and I told you that I found it.
You said you'd find my clothes as soon as possible
and I told you to take your time.
I told you not to push yourself too hard.
I didn't want you to hurt anymore.

I don't know what to do with your hoodie, though.
It's moving from my bed,
to dresser,
to bedside table
to bed
to dresser
to bedside table
and I wake and see it and think of you
and I wonder if I should put it on when I go for a walk
because it's warmer than anything else that I own,
but I don't,
because it has sentimental value.

I do not.