“Sometimes Letting Go Is The Only Way To Find Out Who You’re Meant To Hold On To.”

#DiaryOfAGirlMisunderstood

The Letter I was Afraid to Send

It wasn’t that the feeling for you wasn’t there. It wasn’t that the love I have for you was momentary and based on temporary stimulations - I just wasn’t ready.

Thank you for being who you are, for the man you are. I wasn’t ready for the direction you were heading in. I wasn’t ready to hold your hand and be your eyes when you lose your way. I wasn’t ready to be part of a storyline that I felt I felt I had no part in.

Parts of me were scared of you, scared of the depths that exist within you. My own biggest fear was that my own inhibitions would throw rocks on your path and slow you down from getting to your destination. I was scared my flaws hindered you from being the man you want to be. I was scared that my own shortcomings would become your shortcomings because pain has a way becoming contagious when you’re in a relationship with someone who feels as deep as you do.

At that time, I felt that I was being considerate. Now I realize how selfish I was I can admit I should’ve been better and that you definitely deserve better

Angela Carter, “Black Venus”, Black Venus

[Text ID: “She was like a piano in a country where everybody has had their hands cut off.”]

It felt like we went up and up and up-

higher than I was comfortable with.

My legs started to burn with each step

Until the burn left, no room left for it

And they just slowed, peanut butter steps

And then stopped, too tired to keep time.

Turning around felt like defeat

But good.

On the way down they shook

Bambi knees in jell-o

And every step felt a little bit

like I was falling.

The path ribboned its way

A steady incline

A human paved path

And still my legs

New born, half-set,

Paced a drunk’s gait down

This hill with ideas of grandeur

I did not feel shame or guilt

In my gut

I felt accomplished and proud

Until we spoke later

And then I felt a little bit-

Like I wished I had fallen.

1:50pm 7/1/2021

“Hiding your hurt only intensifies it. Problems grow in the dark and only become bigger and bigger. But when exposed to the light of truth, they shrink. You are only as sick as your secrets. So take off your mask, stop pretending you’re perfect and walk into freedom.”

— Rick Warren

03/10/2021

It wasn’t a long time ago,though it supposedly was.

Here I laid,in this same bed,hugging my covers as tightly as I could,

genuinely wishing to become one with them and vanish in that exact moment.

It felt like a void,the harshest and heaviest one could experience within their bodily existence.

My mind,an abyss.

My body,an havoc.

Somewhere,somehow,I envisioned a version of me which could grasp that forlorn warmth.

She welcomed it in the most easy-going manner,very-well knowing how fleeting that emotion would be.

It was not light,nor was it fuzzy,or bubbling or anything at all.

It just was.

It was right.

May it be precognition or the strength of my will,I do know that THAT was the precursor to who I am now.

I’m alive,living who I yearned to be.

And a lot more than than that as well.

Feeble though sweet

light pours

over the immense meadow

expanding in my eyes,

unmoved by the night sky

thundering upon it.

The moon is to follow its own instincts

navigating the ocean of endlessness

not hiding in itself,

but with a open-heart

bleeding and scarred

and cold.

It is not a bringer of sadness.

It is a reflection of reality.

Not the one we’re living in,

yet both our senses

and mind

are touched by it,

as if it were no more a caress

than it is a warning.

Lonely moon,

and lonely woman,

not to be found in rationality

but in the inexistence of both

the self and the ego.

“But just because you’re strong and resilient doesn’t mean you never need someone to be there for you, to take care of you.”

— Tammara Webber

On Suffering

It seems evident to me that all living creatures must, in some form or another, suffer. So ubiquitous is the evidence for this, that I am forced to believe that the ability to suffer is a requirement for life. Even the most basic life forms who have no mind or complex thought to speak of are able to feel or experience discomfort. This, I presume, is a necessity to ensure the continuation of the individual and of the entirety of life. The modern scientific definition of life is quite in agreement with this, in that it recognizes that for a something to be termed alive it must respond to external stimuli, pursuing that which promotes its well being and avoiding that which has an opposite effect. 

The complexity of a species, or of a being, determines the complexity of its problems. The most basic of life also has the most basic of needs and adversities. Our species, like all others, began with the simple task of surviving, procreating, and expanding. Harsh climates forced us to create clothes, hunger transformed us into better hunters, gatherers, and eventually cultivators. We learned and adapted but our problems did not disappear, they were only replaced. As society began and grew, so too did many new issues as a result. As we learn to solve those and in so doing manage to progress our way of life, new challenges arise creating a constant need for improvement. All life follows this pattern. Certain struggles are presented and life must either adapt or perish, and, in the case of the former, what follows are brand new challenges equal in complexity to the new and improved life. Following this mode of thinking, it becomes clear that our modern way of life, indeed all of human greatness, is only a direct result of constant adversity and our attempt to overcome it. 

In this way, it may be said that all of life has been leading to us now. That many of our comforts, luxuries, and joys are the result of countless others who underwent more basic struggles than ourselves. And so we believe that suffering is a necessity for life and as such cannot be called evil or wrong in any inherent manner. If it has been through adversity that life has progressed as it has, then the true evil is found not in suffering but in suffering pointlessly. And since suffering is indispensable to life and its forward progress, then it must be that insofar as suffering may be called evil, it simultaneously represents an equal good found in the potential for improvement and the bettering of life.

I’m Not/I Am

I’m Not…

I’m not the girl who would tie your tongue.

I’m not the girl who turns your head.

I’m not the girl you’d ask to prom

Or even on a date.

I’m not the girl who likes frills and lace.

I’m not the girl who’d be flirty or flighty.

I’m not the girl who you would daydream about.

I’m not the girl who everyone sees,

The one who beams beauty, radiance, and so carefree.

I’m not the one to be in the foreground.

I’m not visible to anyone.

I Am…

I am the girl you’d pass in the halls,

Who’d probably like you from afar, but never say a word.

I am the girl who’d sketch or write,

My words never reaching your heart or eyes.

I’m the girl who stands in the rain

That mixes with her tears and drowns out her cries.

I am the girl who is always the second choice.

Why on earth would I ever be the first?

I am the girl some would torment

Because I’m different and hide in the background.

I’m the girl that’s invisible to you.

The one you’d never remember until we meet again.

“I suggest that the only books that influence us are those for which we are ready, and which have gone a little farther down our particular path than we have yet got ourselves.”

—

E. M. Forster (1879-1970) English novelist, essayist, critic, librettist