The Last Time I Was Holding My Scoby I Was Crying

the last time I was holding my scoby I was crying, I could not help but worry so deeply about something being dependent on me. 
this thought still scares me tremendously, but today, I did not cry. 

If austin is at home, why am I here?

if alex, and chris and dylan are at home, why am I here?

I go to work yesterday, make a delivery in the city, go home (feel sad about feeling sad, fall asleep), meet lizz at cafe underwood for dinner, she tells me that she feels abandoned, I don't know what to say, she asks me what my plan is, I haven't got an answer. she says she wants to go back home, how am I supposed to do this without her? that isn't fair, though, my mind also full with ideas to go. lizz says she's going to hang out with friends and has to leave, what she means is she is going to have fun, I say okay, which means I am going to cry in the dark in my boss' car for 30-45 minutes unable to move my limbs. I get home and lying in bed, jillian calls, she explains that she doesn't want to live in the city, doesn't even mention oakland, asks what my plan is, I say I do not know. I wake up, go to starbucks, go to work, get a text from jillian saying she's probably moving to chico. part of me wants to tell her that my mom said she'd have new friends and a new life without me there, going to school and happy, zandra said she would want to party, have a good time, and that I would become dull, boring, obsolete. part of me wants to go. jillian says she is going to travel, study abroad after a year or year and a half. whether someone tells you that you can or can't depend on them it does not matter. jillian says that no one knows anyone at all, it's one of the things we truly agree on. I text lizz during the day, wanting her to know I wasn't hiding, even though I also texted her at midnight last night. I want her to feel loved, I'm not good at it anymore. 

I told her specifically that I was going to sabotage this, make it very hard, make it really hard to love me, to love one another. she asks me last night how I think she and I are, I respond, "this may sound annoying, but I feel really good about us." I wasn't lying, I'm hurting, but love her more than ever, we still love each other so much, even though we've changed. because we've changed. I'm sitting on the curb resting my head on my arms, looking at her, I want to tell her not to leave me, but I can't. I don't. I am alone again, probably always was. my world is narrowing, shrinking and folding in on itself. I'd do anything to make her happy, I want to be happy for you.

As I Am

"I’m still in love with you, and I want you so to love me. 
If I had the nerve, I’d stay and lie, hoping that I could make you love me again as I am, for myself. 
And so forget the other and forget the past, but I don’t know whether I have the nerve to try."

Pretending I'm not writing to you is funny, but isn't everything? I go to kaiser, it goes fine, my doctor steps out of the room and I text you immediately. I can't gauge anything, it's okay, I'm talking to you. I go to the pharmacy. my mom calls me back, I go pick her up, she tells me she was going to surprise me at work, was about to, but saw the traffic on navigation and decided against it, I pretended as if I was there. 

Grown

every time that my phone rings i hope that it is you, it isn't, day four (this begins).
i want your input on decisions in my life, i need to know what is going on with everything, what you have and haven't been doing. i feel really bad, i'll try my hardest not to tell you that. 
i really value your opinion (and thoughts and feelings), furthermore, have grown dependent mentally, and emotionally. i'm really unsure if this is something you would want to hear.

"I AM NOT PROUD OF MY ABILITY TO HAUNT MYSELF"

this is me not writing about you, I know, I couldn't help it.

you may not forgive me, you may be actively not-forgiving me right now. the concept that I do things that intentionally make you unhappy, and your unhappiness re those choices, is one that we both can understand. the reward of this week, the reward of this life is going to be allowing myself to speak with you again. I feel right now as though (for many reasons) I've lost my sense of equilibrium, I am floating in a dark abyss, totally alone (by own doing). talking to you is not just an act that feels good, it is something that is good, it gives me a feeling of home, being understood and cared for. I've been thinking so much about all you do for me, I thought of writing it all down, all the small things that came to mind, just so you would know, I think you know you are a great friend to me, I hope you know. it is difficult to tell you how highly I regard you, hard to relay the depth or sincerity. this means everything to me, and I will not squander, let alone so much as weaken this by making it about a disease that always should have been treated professionally. I know I could go to you, I know I could tell you everything, it's not your job, even with it being so important to me, not only that I can be honest with you, but furthermore, that I so badly want to be. I am sorry for how I've treated you, I'll write it here since you do not wish to hear it. you're such a huge part in me wanting to feel better, for things to be good, and normal. I'm sorry I am not strong enough to allow myself anything in moderation, I had to cut off communication, because I'm all or nothing when I'm like this. I already showed you all, we both know pretty well it is too much. I am trying not to drown you in me, I am trying not to drown. I guess the worst part (selfishly) is that I do not know if it matters to you, if you'd like to be talking to me. today I remembered how I recently had told you I need us to talk every day, you didn't really say anything, but I trusted you still felt as though you wanted that too. I felt ashamed I couldn't keep everything how we wanted it, I still do. I miss you these days, I've been reading our old texts, looking at pictures. I remembered why I made this decision though, I saw what I had said to you and was so humiliated. I promise to try my very hardest not to be like that, we both know how. I've lost too many friends to the heaviness of my being, you're not other people, though, you're not like anyone else.
I owe you for all this, I won't forget

Edit (1:57am):

I LOVE YOU, FROM MY SWOLLEN EYES, TO MY BROKEN BRAIN, TO MY CAUTIONARY HEART

WE WILL GET THROUGH THIS

I say we because I mean us,

together

I am so sorry for isolating you from this

but I had to make these strides without

the fear of manipulating you within it

that sounds worse than it is

but me, I swear I'm worse than I sound

you believe me

you are the person

who takes me the right amount of serious

I'm not sure what I did to deserve this 

(I long to tell you everything,
I need someone who wants to hear it..)


"there's nothing I can really say
I can't lie no more
I can't hide no more
got to be true to myself
and it feels like I am just too close to love you"

"to let me dangle at a cruel angle
oh my feet don't touch the floor"

Quarantine

i can't do anything i want
i can't go to school, can't talk to lizz

can't speak with anyone I actually want to
i can't stop spending money, or being angry with everyone

I haven't slept in two nights

I haven't taken sleeping pills in two nights

aside from melatonin last night

it only lasts two hours

I have to choose them wisely

I slept from 230 until 430

wasn't the smartest..

I've been a bit clouded

I've been very lost 

my mom glances up at me

over a table all bread and eggs

her expression is entertained by my endless eating

but bored by my bottomless depression 

"so," she says after a pause neither of us really wanted to fill "are you lonely?"

Blasting Shitty Radio Music With The Intention of Rattling My Brain

this has been culminating in my head for I guess quite some time now. the days have been posing more and more difficult to get through, 
leaving me embarrassed by how surprised I am by that.

I keep OCD-spinning on this idea, so uncontrollably, the visual of you and I drowning; our heads are above water, and we're side by side but not that close, I told you that I cried about us, this was why. standing in my apartment, still for a moment, after wandering around nervously, speaking aloud to the empty room, "you're losin' it". I thought there for a second about which of us was objectively doing worse, and for the first time in a long while, I concernedly decided that it could be you, and it made me feel (a whole lot worse). this really isn't intended to be about anyone in particular, I mean I could divulge every pathetic detail of my evenings; upping my sleeping pill dosage and listening to that fucking song on repeat in my face on my cellphone. I pretend to know what could do everyone (anyone) good. I drive around, terribly sick to my stomach, my pulsing skin crawling, I'm cursing at no one in particular, it hurts to blame yourself with this much pain. I don't want to remember any of this. what I am writing to say, is that I could move to chico, and I would like to formally admit that to myself. I would pack, move to an apartment there, and things would be marginally better, and marginally worse. the only pro would be leaving this apartment, and the only con would be leaving this city. that isn't entirely true, but I don't currently care. who will watch over you when I am gone? this is NOT to say that someone needs to be, but rather for MY sake (seeing that I cannot even manage to do a decent job of it myself, even while convinced I care the most). you wouldn't tell me shit, I'd so soon as cry in your face. this kills me, and has never happened to me before, I suppose it leaves me feeling..... remorseful, that I could err so inconveniently on the side of honesty. this is why people are guarded, this is why people build walls, this year and last year, and last year, and the last year, I've been rubbed so raw. what else could this really look like? even dressed up, it is still a wound. my entire existence. what scares the shit out of me is how okay things are, they aren't even that bad. in therapy I am ashamed at how little I actually have to speak about, locked in the car with you I am dissatisfied by how easy the conversation is, how simple it is to get along. EVERYTHING IS FINE. everything but me. thirty six more days and I am going to tell my therapist the truth. I didn't sign up to say what I have been talking about, I am not paying from MY pocket for her to listen to whether or not I had energy to text someone or leave the house on weekends. I NEED HELP, ANY KIND. put me on suicide watch, make me quit my fucking stupid useless job. you know why I am so upset when I am not included in meetings? because it makes me face the fact that I am dirt, on the level with everyone else who was too incompetent to get asked to sit in that room. I am nothing special, I am probably an unskilled receptionist, sitting there bored on my high-horse, shrouded in my superiority complex. I can't even go home, too humiliated to show my face. HEY GUESS WHAT I'VE BEEN DOING FOR SIX LONG MONTHS, delaying the process of inevitable fucking defeat (AGAIN). maybe I want to be over-weight, under-educated and unemployed, DID ANYONE THINK OF THAT. everything good is gone, which continues to be a very, very clear indication as to why I am still here. I was a good apple then, just preparing to rot slowly to its core. (I'm broke and depressed and broken and it DOESN'T MATTER, because I've been here before, and I'll be here again, and if not, it's just been this way all along forever.)

Just to Hold You Closer

she says that i've been saying a lot of stupid shit
fucked up on sleeping pills late at night
and every other time of day

i long to tell her everything, really everything
or hide away forever

she admits that everyone liked her better when she was 19 
and now people only pretend
i imagine all of our accumulated baggage 
and agree with her

the cough syrup tastes so familiar i want to hug it

if anyone i love is feeling so totally excluded
so completely cut out of the picture
well know that i did cut you out

just to hold you closer

Nonsensical

like your sweetness is reflective of the lunar patterns

whether or not I feel your waves reach me

all the way out here

the nights are colder

when I cannot tell you all that I did all day

I want you to know each time

when I drink water

wash my hands

or think about jumping 

I want you to want to know

but love isn't an equation of efforts

love in a chinese finger trap in which you must try just the perfect amount

the perfect way

and I am a messy friend

with a lot to say

I feel:

neglected, forgotten, abandoned, useless, obsolete, burdensome, jealous, scorn, sad

when I talk to you I feel:

close to you, with a purpose, love, loved, part of something good

you said I'm not consistent

like I used to be

and that itself has made it an impossibility to be consistent 

you said I am darker than I used to be 

and that itself made it an impossibility to remain this way

you're good for me and what I need and I am learning trust

acceptance 

communication 

truth 

your sweetness seems to be reflective of the lunar patterns

and this is no longer the honeymoon phase

I'm here for the long haul

and it's long, longer than anticipated

but it's worth it

you're such a bigger part of that than you know 

Getting Great At Not Sending Texts

haha at you figuring there was more than one reason why we would remain friends forever. I can think of several, but will refrain from saying them now, in fear that you are convinced I am constantly attempting to compliment you, overcompensating for the guilt I am stricken with due to my behavior. you said that you believe that working on stuff is the most positive thing, which I found interesting. this would possibly mean being stagnant, or content would be the opposite of positive, sometimes i wish that I was attracted to those types of people, but I am not. I am attracted to real and complex and emotional and thoughtful and meaningful/magical people like I find you to be, and this is why I feel I must know it all. after dissecting the fierce sensation of shame/disappointment/scorn over something as trivial as not knowing that you saw a movie that you did, I found out that it was more accurately pertaining to you spending your time in a way that I did not know that you spent it. this results in me dwelling on all of the hours we spend navigating this earth, and time, and how we are not constantly participating in an open dialogue containing each and every thought and feeling about that which we are experiencing separately, or together. conclusively, love is a hopeless lie, communication is ineffectual and pathetic, and every time that I retroactively discover you went to the theaters I will know all is for nothing. no one knows me, and I know no one. while I am wasting yours and my time grappling at means of sharing, here are the reasons we will stay friends forever (yes) you will put up with anyone for as long as they like, BUT this is inspiring to me because I will always endeavor to make it worth it for you, secondly, although we hardly understand each other, we completely get each other's jokes, and I find importance and longevity in that, third I believe there is a power or at very least outside source encouraging our being close, I figured this when I thought about us living on the same street, and how I thought highly of you in high school. I apologize this seems gloomy, but it really isn't, and was produced to make you laugh in that way that I imagine I make you, like you see that I am trying, but are mostly just appreciative that you can't really relate

Even Though You Dislike My Writing

on the phone he takes my order in an attentive and skittish manner as if he has not done it before
i fumble through explaining it to him, the same
when i walk in the door i see that he is working, and not at the counter, per always
he sees me, greets me with a happy new year
and i return the greeting, mentioning that i know that i am early
as i normally do
"back to work" he laughs sharply
"yeah" i trail off
in my head i ask him how his week off was, his holidays
what he did for new years eve
how it feels coming back
how nice it must be for him not to work so early, so often
such long hours, while never faltering in his energetic and passionate disposition
i tell him thank you
and realize only when sitting alone in my silent car parked outside
that it was all that i said


we are at a dark bar and you ask to share a smoke and you're not talking to me
but it brings me immense happiness
even though you're going to smoke a cigarette
and even though you're going to leave the room
two things i hate
but it's these words that are familiar
common and comforting
it's the type of things you say that we've lived before 
that i love
even if it's you coldly informing me on the telephone
that we've had this conversation before
and that you've told me before
that we've had this conversation before
it's routine
but reminds me that we're the same as we've always been
sometimes that is good sometimes that is bad
but it's true
and i love it
it feels the same
i want to feel the same
i want to feel
love


i'm dreaming, of course
but i walk into the hospital room and you're the only one there
you are lying weak, crippled in the white bed
in the white room
you have no beard, but your brown hair's a mess
i look down at your hand and it looks contracted and boneless
you explain what's been going on
you explain where you've been
you explain to me immediately that you've withheld information to keep us safe
such alterations as changing your girlfriend's name in the story 
because she hurt you, and you're still not safe
wouldn't be safe for me to know
i listened, although could not help
just looked at your smooth dark skin
glanced long at your wounds and injuries
patted myself on the back for knowing 
that you would not be happy
if you abandoned me

i sit at work, painfully aware of the cheapness of my desk chair
for hours i try not to feel guilty, or anything
my boss and i
we have a wordless understanding
that i am to lie dormant, in wait for next disaster to strike
in that event i will be put to great use, have tremendous purpose and worth
i see friendships in a similar fashion
actually the same


my towels never dry in my apartment
maybe it's too cold, i'm not sure
but i throw two towels and some things in a basket and march it all up to the dryer
i peer around the roof for people
but there is no one
as i approach it i see that the light is off in the laundry room
i wasn't worried because i know where the switch is
as i reach to flip it, i see a silhouette sitting on the washing machine
i instinctually jump, then instinctually apologize
i see the man is listening to music on his phone
about my age, perhaps a bit older
i ask if it is alright with him if i momentarily turn on the light
he says yes kindly, and suggests that i can leave it on
i quickly begin to fill the quarter slots with quarters and the dryer with damp clothes
he speaks with me all the while, about a laundry mat nearby,
about how long i've lived here, about what floor we live on and why he's there
i told him that it made sense he would come to the roof for privacy
but he seemed to want to talk, and understand
i seemed to want to talk, also, but had no reason to stay once the machine began
i wanted him to introduce himself
and he did
he asked my name, and i wanted to shake hands
and we did
he said his name was michael
and when i repeated it back to him it made me appreciate that our names sounded the same then
i finish telling him that i'm on the 4th floor, i've been here 2 months, as well as several other things
and i am walking slowly towards the door when he tells me earnestly that he did not mean to question
i stopped, and made eye contact, assuring honest that it was okay
but somehow could not bring myself to stay; unable to completely assess the ends of this exchange
he didn't really know what to say, and neither did i
"i'll be back, so maybe i'll see you again"
i turned off the light

i walked through my life half there
the other portion of my mind was creating mental pictures
asking myself things, then answering them
setting up situations, then acting them out
would you ask to kiss me like you used to?
did i have complete control over my trajectory in your life
and would you mind that?
i wanted to know what your living situation looked like
would there be jerseys on your bedroom wall? would you share a room?
if i went into your front door would there be boys on the couch that you would introduce me to
could they guess what you and i were doing together?
hearing from you twice totally enveloped me in some un-mutual but not impossible daydream
you told me that you wanted to see me
and it has been many months
but not a year
and it makes me wonder
will you be wearing bracelets?
maybe i'll ask about your tattoo
and maybe you'll say i should just spend the night instead of driving home
to be safe
maybe someday we will talk slow on the phone
maybe someday we will talk save "it's been a while"


i tell you everything because you never once wanted me to
the stories i do not tell you
i voice later so that we can laugh at them
and we do
you take care of yourself
and are happier the more that i take care of myself
so i take care of myself to take care of you
one person more often than not changes the other person's mind if we do not agree
almost always we agree
i describe for you the magic of the universe
and know that you know it better than i


it's not soul-crushingingly sad that i cannot speak with you
that i feel strange, or afraid, or overly concerned
it's crushingly sad that i cannot muster up one thing to say


in the center of the landscape there was a darkroom
which i lead you inside of
to observe photographs of yourself from years prior
i wanted to see them all myself
but figured you would be better off remembering
i already had anyway
i went into a different room, one with lots of light and a large window
in the sill of the window were irons
haphazardly strew about
so i spent a fair amount of time lining up, rearranging, and organizing the irons
irons represent harshness, anger, aggression, ruthnessless and conflict
also endurance, which i believe to be similar if not the same thing
either way, you never forwent that room

A Different View

I couldn't sleep

I wasn't sure why

I wanted to write

and I wanted to write to lizz 

I'm in LA and it is the eve of Christmas Eve, I'm curled up on Victoria's couch and there is a candle burning, the one we bought each other for Christmas, and it smells really good. I wanted to tell you that my feelings towards happiness have changed so much for the better through my struggles; I cherish it so much. I think there's a healthy amount of fear in love and gratitude, the concern for it all ending. Today I spent the morning with Victoria, Ryan and Leo, the afternoon with my mom (I saw my uncle Steve and mom's best friend Vicky, too) and spent tonight with Andy. It's been really good for me here, I guess we knew it would be. Every morning Ryan gets up and he says what do you guys want for breakfast? And every night he comes to the living room and asks, what do you guys want to do for dinner? I can't help but think about talking to Dylan on the phone, him telling me that people should not be alone, us in our respective isolation. My mom was right about one thing, you can't live like you do on vacation -- life is work. She asked me about my "healing" with Austin, which irked me in that I am always the one in need of healing. She asked me about you also, I said I've been better at communicating with you, and when she asked if you were staying I told her that I hoped. I don't like speaking of you, with my mom or Andy or anyone, but secretly I do. My problem is not that I need to spend time with people, it's who I should be spending time with. I talked to my mom about school for a while, she told me that I should have a relationship with my father, then she told me that she said that because she didn't mean to "diss him" as she as earlier. Hanging out with Andy again was funny and fun, we get immediately in our same routine, making fun of each other, laughing. I told him I needed to go and he got mad and said good go, I want to go to sleep, he said he'd probably see me tomorrow and I knew that he would. Spending so much time with him tonight, talking made me realize not only how he sees me (a joke of a failure weirdo) but it crystalized the significance of how your loved ones view you. It is so incredibly important to me how I am seen by my family and friends, obviously not in a superficial sense, I just mean how it makes me feel when I get in their head which I am constantly attempting to do. I was glad that I called you (you called me) before I left town because even though I told you that I hate our phone conversations and you believed me, I actually don't, and it leaves me with a strong feeling closeness that really (pacifies) comforts me. The things I remind myself when I think of you are: That you are distracted with your life, the life around you, and that doesn't change or affect our relationship, that you wish to know where I am, and do care about what I am doing, and recently I've reminded myself that although it feels like you love me less, people love other people varying amounts at different times and that is completely okay. You told me on the phone that you don't know what I'm thinking, which made me think that you've thought about it and that you'd care to know and it made me feel better. I truly hope to bring home a lot from this trip. Talking about Oakland validates that I love it there, and I learned so much from Victoria, and Andy. I have an epiphany every day and I think you understand that. Driving to LA (in terrible traffic) I realized that if I feel weird about something I have the power to fix it, I can even do it with one text. I've been learning and practicing regarding my will, my restraint, and trusting myself to say what I want to, or feel I need to. You get the brunt of nearly each and every experiment and for that I am sorry. I made my amends (on multiple accounts) on my drive here, in hopes of starting 2015 with (Jillian and) a clean slate. I was listening to christian talk radio earlier today and the sermon's topic was purpose, he said children are almost always raised these days with the knowledge that life itself is meaningless. He explained that without God's grace everything is for nothing, there could not be a reason for fairness, or anything good. I want to tell you everything that I think and feel and I won't feel overbearing and you won't think that I'm sad or manic or overcompensating, you will just know it was you I wanted to tell. 

If One More Person Tells Me To Just Be Happy

I made hot chocolate, but decided to cry instead

you send me a text that reads "you wanted me to call to tell me not to worry?" 
I respond "yes"

you call me at 6:18
too anxious for small talk we get immediately to the point
you ask why you were supposed to call and I say I didn't think I'd get to talk to you and I wanted to
you say okay
I say everyone is talking to one another about how depressed I am and it's embarrassing 

you ask me what I think I am

I pause to figure that out
it felt like thirty minutes, but could have been one second
I am hopeful that it was somewhere in between

I predictably whimper about not going to college, and missing all of my friends
you said you think very often about when I told you 
that I wanted to be miserable more than I wanted to be happy
I asked if that was because you thought it wasn't true
like you told me
and how you had to find out that it was true
you said no
you thought that it wasn't true and it wasn't
and then I made it become true

I said that I hate the thought of you having to wait this period out
this period, right now
you said that's how it goes

I said I hate having these conversations because they remind me that you think that you are good and that I am bad
you said you don't see things like that or think about us or that at all

you said you don't like having serious conversations with me because you are just talking
but that I am going to remember and hold onto everything you say
whether or not you really meant it

you told me that these conversations are good for both of us and that you like to have them
I asked if you were certain about that

you said Austin takes a lot of the credit for how very bad I am doing and that it wasn't his fault or maybe it was 

you said I seemed better but was not sure if that was true
you told me that it is good I am working on things
I told you that you are putting a positive spin on this
you said "why not"
it felt like you meant it

I let you go, look at my phone that reads 7:20
and let come back all of the things that I needed to tell you


finally, I looked up, from that dark hole, the one I dug myself 
I watch the incense smoke rise then disappear into the air
I see only that one terribly truth, that I didn't want to be here, I wanted to be with Austin

Forever and Never

Dear Lizz,

I may never know if I need a person or need to be alone
I may never be convinced that everyone in my immediate family is doing okay
I may never be skinny enough to not feel chubby in a tank top or shorts
I may never believe that my writing has helped anything
I may never 'get over it'
I may never go back to school, and use words like salient, or lackluster in a sentence
I may never calm my nerves
I may never have straight hair, or care to wash it
I may never have the money, I might not travel at all
I may never be in a personal relationship again, where we have sex and forget about our friends
I may never not use double negatives, and talk about how sleeping pills saved my life

these people do not demand perfection, but they deserve it
I will learn to accept love in spite of my shortcomings
they could be there as long as you
and we know how long, now

What Could I Do For You

I thought that it was such an interesting choice of word, respect. It's true, I've just never seen it like that before. How do you try your hardest not to overbear a person, while simultaneously not offending them by making them seem easily overwhelmed? How do you play it cool but not coy, or distant? The lines got so fine and my insanity blurs everything so much that I could not decipher what I was looking at, I was unable to act at all. I just cannot help thinking how you had an out, and not just that people usually take them, but that you had the right to. From this point of view your life seems put together, in a good place, it seems really full and it is. I'm a bleeding wound, no goals but to suck you dry for the sake of depth, and it's self-seeking, and it's tiresome. I mull over and over all the reasons to keep me around, I tell myself it isn't the guilt of leaving. You told me that life has ups and downs (and this is something that I have a hard time facing). You said I wasn't really around when things got real bad for you, which made me feel like I'm (purposefully) around for the good times. Then we played back some memories, different but not disimilar. I tell myself that you know I'd lay there listening to you breathe, I'd pick up the phone any time of day or night. Why do we worry? Is this the basis of the problem? What (really) makes a person worry? I think you keep me around for the longevity of this (the history). You told me that you didn't believe I wanted to be sad, you said with such conviction I still wanted to be happy, too, it made me feel so much better but I would never tell you that. I cannot wrap my mind around you wanting a two and a half hour phone conversation of whines and whimpers, than no call at all. You said if we had these conversations more frequently (with me fighting and crying) it wouldn't be such a big deal, it made me not understand what you want. It was abundantly clear that I wanted to make a mess, want nothing more. I wrack my brain, why why why? Maybe I don't have to know, and maybe we can both worry, and both pacify that worry. I cannot fathom a world in which you benefit from having me in yours, and I am sorry that I don't believe you, and all I have ever learned is that love is not enough. Maybe we will prove that wrong. You held my hand in the back of the car for no reason at all and it made me feel not so fucking bad. 

dear self,

it's 1am now. I can nearly cry just thinking about how badly I would like sleep, how long it's been. I'm writing this as a reminder, so maybe one fucking day you will learn from your lessons; do the right thing. I'm not just tired, I am tired of hiding out, of the withholding, I'm tired of how I get when I feel like this. Maybe it's fight or flight, I'm not sure, but I'm not here I'm not anywhere, I don't wish to be. The movie just ended, Jillian got up and went to the bed, I left the chair and came to lie next to Lizz like I'd been wanting to for hours. Austin just said "dang" in his sleep. I think it's relevant. Lizz hates being in the middle, I think, appreciating the unforutnate double meaning. I torture myself and people don't know, couldn't know the anguish really or the meaning. For two hours I sat curled up in a ball of my shame, self loathing and sadness, maybe the only difference is tonight there were people here to witness. Not just people, my favorite people, why are they the ones who must see you at your worst? Everyone else gets your best. It's so funny how things end up. I guess I just wish I could speak, I'm a just a vessel filled to the brim with these feelings I can't help but feel nothing but ashamed of. I would so rather leave people guessing, then allow anyone to see the extent, the depth of this.... love.

Time, Again

Dear whomever,

I woke up this morning violently ill, the room and sky were a dark black, and my mouth was coated with sappy bile. I made my way to the bathroom slow then fast, I looked down at our floor, our rug, where I had lied before (may never lie again) and decided I was not doing those things to myself anymore, so I brushed my teeth instead. It wasn't yet 5:30, and I cannot explain the awareness of how truly long the day would be. I had an open house at noon I remembered, and counted the hours until then. I was going just to say that I had went, the same reason I had been getting out of bed each morning. It's so embarrassing how terribly I cope, I try to think about it being worse, I try to play back the memory of the first time my mom explained suicide to me as a kid. It is a word thrown around in my family like money is, or forfeiting. I made coffee at about 6:17, tried not to think about it. I ate some watermelon, but mostly allowed myself to lay in bed for hours, feeling better then worse, better then worse. Holly texted me at 10:06 saying that she was coming to Emervyille. I felt spied on, and looked after. We got coffee and I was more than a bit of a mess, and couldn't tell if she minded or how much. We saw a white one-eyed dog, and I thought it meant good luck, and made her take a picture for Lizz. We talked about Lizz one time, in which I said something to the affect of not telling Lizz things for the reason that I do not want her to have to worry about me. I couldn't stop thinking about how she would have hated to hear me say that. Holly said something to the affect of Lizz telling her that if I don't find a place to live which I probably won't that I could stay with her for a while, maybe she too knew I would not want to hear that, maybe that's why she never said it to me. I told Holly I had to go, and although I was enjoying myself and like Holly a lot, I had the same grateful feeling of someone no longer having to endure my company. The weight of me, lifted. She dropped me off, and I drove to the open house. The absolute ordeal was precisely as much as a joke as I had anticipated it to be (with the addition of getting cut in line to try to get an application, followed by the swarmed landlord [who did not return my text] looking straight through me). I walked down the four flights of spiraling carpeted stairs and it felt just like a movie, dozens of 20-30 year olds sprawl in every nook and cranny of the hallways. Couples lined the floors, walls, windows, and banisters, all filling out the same rental application that I held in my under-qualified hands.

My gift to myself that I was giving for going through such an experience (again) was going to a movie at 1:30, I got home, changed out of my stupid shirt and earrings, and biked as hard and fast as I could for Albany. I was so dreadfully concerned with showing up later than I wanted to, that I arrived early enough to have to ask the employee if they were seating for Eleanor Rigby yet. I ate some leftover trail mix and an apple, and waited 15 minutes for the movie to start. It was devastating, really beautiful and relevant, and wonderfully acted. I held back tears through its entirety, and only cried once towards the end when she walked into the dark house that he had just finished packing up, and all she could see were flashbacks of how it looked before, with their belongings, and decorations, and light, and life. I biked home very fast and hard, it went by 5 times as brisk as getting there, although probably took a longer amount of time. I felt like I understood everything, as I wove between cars on San Pablo. I wasn't so much feeling this way because I felt homeless, but because I felt hopeless, and I truly wondered how many times over I would have to learn the undeniably identical lesson. The lesson of leaving. 77 times, I thought to myself, then realized that was not even what the bible was talking about. Might as well have been I guess. I got home and walked into the living room, all that I could comprehend was Austin's plastic container and my eyes swelled big, but I was too empty to cry. I glanced at all of the applications I would not fill out. I wanted to talk to Lizz, I wanted to tell her that I was worse than she thought. Just about every day I think about calling her and having to "ruin her fun", but cannot bear the idea, usually write instead. I look at my phone and Jillian is getting a storage unit with Austin, and they are car shopping. I think about my hour and a half phone conversation with Alex last night and wonder when her and I will talk again, and if it would be today, and if it would help (either of us). She told me that times like these are when you have to keep your loved ones close, so they can do what they are meant to. I agreed, saying that this is really their time to shine, I didn't mean it, I wanted everyone gone, far away, and happy.

Dear Lizz,
The reason that I told you I had so much I wanted to tell you was because I spent all day writing you the perfect letter in my head. I've always been the sort of person who has believed that saying the right words would actually fix everything. What love notes and confessions have ever really brought me was embarrassment, and has left me wondering who I am doing it all for in the first place. As of course you know, I just have such a difficult time conveying what I am thinking and feeling. I don't know if it's always been this way, but when I am in a good/honest/loving friendship it inevitably stirs up this consistent incapability. I guess that's why it hurts me, because I can be shitty to shitty people, but it's important to me to really try to be the best, with people like you. I was initially feeling confused when you were feeling shut out by me, all I could think about was how I had let you in, told you everything, I thought I admitted things I thought I never would. I remember thinking that you can't tell a person everything that has ever happened (long-passed, or recent), and it wouldn't be fair for anyone to ask that of me, and I could just die in my black hole of "privacy". I've been attempting to be more conscious lately of putting myself down, since you said something, before you did I just thought it would be what people WANTED to hear, because it didn't leave them wondering if I was or was not aware of my actions ie. mistakes ie. shortcomings. I swear I think about every little thing for so long and in every which way, I could explain any side of the story extensively, and passionately. After Jillian and I had a long and telling phone-talk, I finally was level-headed, and could see clearly, I wish everybody had someone so imperative to their being as she is to me. Since that night I have been desperate to tell you what I've been thinking about, which of course has been hard for me to do, because it's about you. I have enjoyed every moment with you, even with it eating at me more than slightly in the background. We would be walking together, or you would be sitting there looking off, and I would look at you really hard, and try to imagine what you were feeling like, which made me think about me, which made me think you must be thinking I was not fully there. I guess I want you to know that I am fully here now, and I am working on myself in big ways I think. I am slowly going to chip away at the iceberg that is everything that makes me hate myself, and it is the only way. It was not just the fear of really losing you that made it so I needed to come back (though partially), it wasn't that I was thinking how we could just go on, putting in 70 percent, and you meeting me there cause you can't trust to put in any more (but prominent), it was only because I wanted to and needed to. My note in my head today said that I know I need you now, not in a fleeting or momentary way at all (sometimes that too), I mean in a way that I mean with very, very few people, where I feel the absence. There is a space now, reserved or whatever, and it's scary to think, and of course humiliating to admit, but you are essential, and it took all of this (time) to see it for what it was. I want to hear about everything, and anything, and it's worth telling you everything, and not for the tradeoff, but because I want to and it helps me and it makes me happy sharing with you. I know I'm messed up, and I don't say this in a degrading, or even dismissive way, I say it because I'm aware it has to be hard cause I am weird about most things, and it affects much more than just my mood. I hate that I write to people, I hate that I feel emotions in such an enormous and all-encompassing way, but I just hope you know all the things I put you through are because I love you so much. I would not do it otherwise.. I hope that you never feel pushed away, and that we never sweep things under the rug, it feels so awful to me, even just the thought of it. I felt such an incredible, indescribable distance, and at my worst I was content just floating out there. I know some day I will want to torture myself, relish in the misery, but most days I want to be good, I want to be happy, and I want to love and make those people happy if I am able. I have been working on apologizing less, as I told you, but with that said I'm sorry, for believing you would feel wanted/cared for when I am trying to disappear. You've been so great to me, and I've been so fucking appreciate, and I don't even think I've told you. You even asked me tonight what I was wanting to tell you, I got embarrassed and couldn't, and I don't know what to say about that. You didn't stop calling, or telling me the truth. I can't stop hinting things, or telling half stories, dropping bombs and not following up, being melodramatic, sensitive, but I am going to work on nipping those things in the bud. I've never not wanted to feel close to you, I just thought I could save you from myself, but that night I emailed you, I realized not even I can do that, and you'll just have to when you have to. I didn't believe I would be more grateful now for this friendship than before, I just want us to make time for proper communication, and you do, and sure you will. This is everything I wanted to tell you earlier; that I don't know what I am doing, how to be, or what to do, but this feels solid, and positive to me, and is helping me get through (everything else that has been going on in my head). I am going to help you help me. It's all cumbersome, and I am painfully aware of that, but it feels like we are in this together, I know that we are.

It's True Always Was

I know that it's more than fair

but please don't distance yourself

I cannot stand the thought 

of losing you

not so much as an ounce 

I'll never do anything to jeopardize this again

you are worth everything

and I finally can see how I was not making you feel that way

The Last Good

I love you so thoroughly I am going to sabotage this.

Purple Heart

i cannot bear to speak with you when i am sad.

this is not a bad thing.

not only because it saves you the grief or trouble,

but it gives me an incentive to be happy.

i wish that you saw that all this means is that i associate you with happiness.

the people that i associate with heartbreak i reach out to when i am feeling disheartened.

i want you to be a part of my happiness,

and know that i am not lying now

when i say that this is not that.

"I think you run out of I love yous"