Fear

Not many will know the feeling of watching one you love so much hurt themselves in a way that makes you feel like you’re suffocating. You see them suffering and you beg for the answer, the fix to all the problems. They scream, saying you are what keeps them alive. Without you, their heart doesn’t beat. You beg them to find something other than you to live for. You cry “having that much weighing on another is too much, its unsustainable,” but they don’t hear you. They become deaf to your pleas, your words are no longer enough. They’re drowning as you watch. You dive in the water just as you see them lose consciousness. You bring them to the surface, conduct CPR. Only those who have experienced it will know how much your body shakes in fear of watching a life slip away at your hands. It wasn’t your fault. “But I could have saved them.” It wasn’t your job to protect their heart. Despite the long believed thought, we are all alone on this earth. I love you, you love me, but eventually you will be gone, as will I. No matter how much you love a soul on this earth, to hold onto them as your life line is like floating in a life saver in the middle of a broad sea with no boat nearby. It supports you, but its not its job to help you swim the rest of the way to the shore.

I run into your room afraid of what I might find. I watch your eyes fluttering and your body shaking. I feel numb from the sight. I shake you, I scream, I cry, and then I whisper, pleading “please, please wake up, don’t leave like this.” You stir awake, dazed and confused. I ask you if you took the pills. You nod. Tears began streaming down my face even faster. You mumble and say you’re tired. The thought of you sleeping terrifies me because I am sure you won’t wake up. I drag you up. I get you seated on the bed and tell you to wait there. I walk to the door and then realize that I can’t leave you like that even to get you water. “Come with me.”

“I am tired, it’s hard to move my body.” I pull you against your will so that I don’t lose you in the process of trying to save you. I sit you back on the bed and order you to chug the water. You take a sip. I cry harder and you look at me with sadness and defeat and ask me what’s wrong. You knew what was wrong. I tell you to keep drinking. You say you’re not thirsty. Gulp after gulp you take a break and your eyes begin drifting away again. It scares me to death as I am slapping your legs, kneeling by the bed, looking up at you begging you to keep staying with me and keep drinking that water. The first round hits you; it’s been enough and you throw a bit up. I won’t let you stop though, so I make you drink, you throw up, you drink again. I can’t be sure that It’s over until I don’t see you drifting away. After a few good rounds of throwing up and chugging so much water, you’re done. We sit on your bed and wait. You ask to lay down, I beg you not to. I couldn’t be sure that it was over. That there was not still a chance of losing you. That night I laid with you afraid to fall asleep, afraid of what I might wake up to find.

I never thought you’d do it…

Alone

Nobody knows. It would take attention. Intuition. A moment of not focusing on oneself. There’s beauty in this world, but there’s also an area of darkness that remains inconspicuous to most. No one notices it within others very often. It’s all internal. It’s all in our heads. Well that’s the most dangerous thing for one’s sanity. For their mental health. For their happiness. To continue going on through life, caring about others, wanting to connect to them, needing to connect to them, but not feeling the same care reciprocated. It’s like you’re that cashier that continuously asks distracted customers how they are, and wishing their ungrateful ass a good day when you finish giving them what they bought. You’re left feeling alone, while standing surrounded in a crowded room. You’re never alone in the literal sense, but you’re always alone in reality. Depth doesn’t seem to exist anymore. Intimacy is a rarity. No one knows how to connect anymore… Actually, that’s not true. No one cares. There is a lack of interest. “Focus on someone but myself? Make someone feel valued? Have genuine interest in someone? Pshh that’s too much work, I’ll just let people treat me like some amazing discovery while I remain indifferent towards them.” 

My Reflection

The other day, I looked in my mirror, and in the reflection, I saw a stranger. She looked at me with wide eyes, begging to be noticed, but I avoided eye contact. She made weird faces, bugging out her eyes, sticking out her tongue, forcing a smile, finally shedding tears in defeat. None of it worked. I looked at her, but not directly at her. I was scared, and she was sad. I had forgotten her in the mirror. Every time I step in front of that mirror, I look right past her. I don’t look, because I don’t recognize her anymore. I’m afraid that if I look too long, it will all become to real. I’ll finally take notice that I’ve heartlessly abandoned her for all these days. The fear that I’ll remember her. Who she was, her vibrancy, her enthusiasm for life, how I felt whole when I saw her in the mirror and could tell you her name. Every second she’s trapped in that mirror, I hear her cry. It’s quiet in efforts to not disturb anyone, yet I hear it all the time and it keeps me awake at night. She knows I hear her. I feel her presence beside me wherever I go. She and I used to be one, but now we’re two entirely different entities. She’s drowning in her tears, and I’m numb. She screams at me, in order to bring me back to reality. She makes a mess in every area of my life in order for me to see the destruction to bring me back, to make me aware. Yet I’ve lost all touch with reality. She knows that. That’s why she continues this seemingly pointless effort. 

She’s the only one who knows, and she’s the only one who can bring me back.

Embarrassment 

Let me start off by letting you know that this topic isn’t based on a recent embarrassing experience of my own or anything. Tonight I went to a small event, and at this event, there was a guy who once had a small thing for me. While we were getting to know one another a few months back, he did something that he was embarrassed about. In the end I didn’t continue talking to him, cause at that point in time I wasn’t interested in a romantic relationship, like him and all of my perusers at the time. So now fast forwarding to tonight. As I was heading to the event, my sister’s boyfriend (who’s best friends with the guy) informed me that the guy still felt awkward about the small thing that happened months ago… I’m talking the start of last fall semester. It’s been at least 8 months I’d say? But the guy still remembers it clear as day. Before I was informed of this tonight, I had completely forgotten about it all together. The guy could have talked to me and I would have been friendly as usual, and I wouldn’t have remembered a thing. It all ended up being a non-event when I saw him, cause he basically was quiet and slightly awkward because he’s still holding onto that memory of embarrassment. Now I’d like you all to know, I don’t judge people at all for moments when they don’t act in a way that represents themselves. Whether their awkward moment results from voluntary or involuntary actions. I’ve embarrassed myself a fair amount of times, and I realize we all do dumb things. We all do things every once in a while, that we look back on and realize we don’t like what we did in that moment. It’s a part of being human, cause we’re not perfect, we make errors all of the time, and we just have to let those things go. 

Now I didn’t write this post to highlight his embarrassment or awkwardness for the night. I’m writing this post to talk about choosing to forget our embarrassments. Like I said above, I’ve done my share of embarassing things, and they weren’t pleasant. The difference between me and this guy, is that I choose to pretend these embarrassing moments in my life never happened. Now some may say that I’m in denial, that I’m hiding a part of me, that I’m not true to myself if I act like it never happened. Though in some way those things may appear to be true, they’re all false. When you push a negative/ unpleasant memory into the shadows of your mind, you aren’t removing them, you’re just not dwelling on them. You don’t necessarily pretend that it was all just a dream, you just allow yourself to feel as though it was all a distant memory. The one point that is possibly the most false, would be that you’re not true to yourself when you push these memories into the shadows. These moments wouldn’t stick out to us in the first place, if we hadn’t believed we weren’t representing ourselves/ being represented for how we actually are. So these embarrassing moments don’t define us, cause they’re not truly how we are on a regular basis. That’s why letting these memories fade into the background is actually being more true to yourself than you could ever be. It’s allowing you to express who you truly are, without being held back by the self conscious thoughts that result from dwelling on embarrassing moments. 

If you allow all of your regrets and mistakes and embarrassing moments to pile into your conscious memory and thoughts, you’ll look like you’re carrying the world’s troubles on you shoulders. Continually thinking of your downfalls causes you to shine less and your sparkle dulls. You don’t see the spark in your own eyes, you just notice the dust that is causing them to haze. 

Though the main reason for my cutting of ties with this guy a few months ago was related to me just not wanting a relationship, it was also because of one particular thing I noticed about him. He didn’t have a sparkle in his eyes. His eyes looked hazed over, and masked by sadness, even when he was smiling. It was that small thing that caused me to decline. Though it may appear to be a minuscule reason to turn someone down, I think it was the most accurate indicator I’ve gone by yet. That small observation saved me from beginning something with someone who dwells on his downfalls, rather than focusing on his achievements.  

The therapy of writing

At the moment I don’t feel all that well. My motivation is stifled because I’ve allowed myself to slip into a downward spiral of emotions. Earlier today I read about strange things our bodies do everyday, two of them were blink, and cry. In the mini article it talked about how crying was good for you. So I’m giving it a whirl. Maybe I can cleanse these odd emotions out with some tears. Now typically I would see these as happy tears if I were to be cleansing my emotions with a nice cry, but these aren’t happy tears… I feel a little alone at the moment… I know it may seem ridiculous to some and some may say we should all be able to find solace within ourselves, but for the time being I’m lacking that kind of strength. I can’t muster the courage to brave through it alone any longer. So as my own way of therapy, I’m going to write about one of the reasons as to why I’ve found myself in this lonely state. 

Throughout my life I’ve found myself loosing touch with people, and mutually drifting out of one another’s lives. Generally it’s worked quite well for me because I’ve found more meaningful connections by letting nature take its course. Although I’ve found myself in a little dilemma… I don’t lack a supply of people to talk to or reach out to in times of loneliness, but I’ve recently kept to myself because I find no fulfillment in any of these friendships. I have an amazing best friend and I wouldn’t trade her for the world, but at times I wish I would have found a best-guy-friend along the way. 
I have come close twice in my life… Both times letting them slip away. 
Ironically both of the guys were scorpios… (For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, Scorpio is a zodiac sign). 
The first one was dating my friend at the time and continued to make passes at me… So basically the drama that ensued caused the splitting of ties. 
On the other hand, I recently drifted out of the life of the second Scorpio. He and I had amazing conversations, but he wanted me, and I was uncertain about him. When I looked at it objectively, I realized that if I dated him, it would be because of his mind, not the entire package. I didn’t like his lifestyle, nor did I find him all that attractive. He wasn’t ugly, because I honesty don’t think anyone in this world is ugly. We’re all someone’s idea of perfection. He just wasn’t my type. Now I know you’re all probably furiously typing away in the comments about to tell me off for being superficial, but I’d like to explain myself first. I think there are different levels and statuses for people in your life for this very scenario. You have the highest tier, which is who you choose to be your significant other. Ideally this person is supposed to possess mind, body, and spirit/soul (so they turn you on both sexually and mentally, and dazzle you with their unique soul). Your next tier is best/ good friends. Ideally they just don’t do it for you physically, but you enjoy their company and conversation. Lastly, you have the people who aren’t all that consistent in any of these areas, and we rate them as acquaintances. 
This guy friend of mine fell into the second category, as a good, maybe even best, friend. It was apparent that deep inside, he wanted more. He continued to try to further things. He gave me a rose, and I handed it back, and I told him that he deserved a girl who could be his valentine on Valentine’s Day, and that I just wasn’t the girl for him. I began to taper off my conversations with him, to try to ween him off the thought of me. I didn’t want him to continue pursuing me, knowing that he could spend that time finding who he’s supposed to be with, so I eventually stopped talking to him all together. 
Now you’re probably ferociously typing a comment about how evil I am for hurting this guy and ignoring him… Yes it isn’t the nicest way to do things, but I had indicated things were coming to a close, and just a few weeks ago, he sent me a goodbye text, telling me about the positive things in his life. He found a girl who is like him. That was my goal. I believe he’s better off without me, but sometimes I miss having an interesting conversation waiting just around the corner if I chose to peak. 
He was the closest thing I’ve had to a male best friend, and for that I’m grateful towards him. 
You may be wondering why I brought these two guys up, so now I’ll explain. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed a common theme, but I just realized there is one. Neither of these guys were ever setting out to have a purely platonic thing with me. No guy really ever has… And it is kind of unsettling in a way. I’ve retracted from all of these people, because I don’t feel I can talk to them without them trying to get to know my body more, not my mind. At the moment there is only one guy who I want to know my body more (and mind of course), and I’m pretty sure he hasn’t but a clue, but maybe he’ll catch on if I keep giving hints… 
But it’s not even the fact that the guys wanted my body that put me off, it was that that is how they began to interact with me. Let me clarify a bit more… It’s as though two bodies were trying to have a conversation. Now as far as body language goes, you can have a pretty damn good conversation if there’s chemistry, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the simplicity in which we begin to view things when we’re caught up in overwhelming attraction and lust. It’s a little distracting I’ll admit, but these guys don’t even attempt to have a real conversation, it just feels as though they think boring conversation is the eventual lubricant that will bring about a furtherance of any physical thing between them and me…. 
Now I don’t want interesting and sexy guys I know to get the wrong idea… I’m not talking about you guys. If you are able to admire my mind, soul, sexuality, and body, then take me at your will… Not literally exactly… But if you can sense I’m feeling something as well, or giving you signals, go for it, and don’t miss the signal like Ted did with Robin. (HIMYM reference to their first kiss… If you didn’t know who I was talking about).
Readers who stuck through this entire post, I’m glad to say I’m feeling a lot better. Writing is my therapy, and this post was just what I needed. I know it appears a little bipolar since I went from sad to happy within the time it took to write this, but maybe writing is truly just that therapeutic.