A Piece of Me to You

"And then there's light. It just takes time"

Everyone talks about how depression holds them back. It's a cloud of darkness, and we all shine our magnifying glasses to try to dissect it all

It's not a lie, though, that it's difficult. Depression is no joke, but there's always a good side to anything.

I'm the first to tell you that I'm what some people might call damaged goods, because I've had some problems. I can't ever say they're in the past however accurate that feels. They're pieces of me, and I'm willing to share them.

I guess you could say that it's hard to do that. It almost feels like I'm tainting the now, right? That's not the case, though...

Let me start by sharing what these illnesses are.

I was a teenager, and I felt that way for about half a decade...

The list is as follows:

• Depression
• Anxiety
• Schizophrenia
• PTSD
• Bulimia
• Anorexia
• Body Dysmorphia
• Insomnia
• OCD

I can keep going. I want you to understand that it isn't my fault. It isn't your fault if you have any of it, either.

I took this course once that told me how a difficult pregnancy often led to the child suffering of most of those problems... some of the often also overlap with each other. I know my mom had an awfully difficult pregnancy with me, and that's always where it's thrown to... but hey this is life. It could be it or not. The case stands as sometimes we're dealt shitty cards. We just have to do the best we can with them.

Anyways, that isn't the point of this. The point of this isn't to get pity either. I'm not brain dead, so until then... save that pity party. The point is simple... In spite of anything I've been diagnosed with, I'm stronger than ever. 

That's the thing. The journey itself was hard and is always ongoing, but no matter how hard it feels... the end is there. The end of the tunnel with the light is there. You have to make the hole. You have to break through that wall. You have to walk through that light. You have to want it. Then you have to go through with it.

You could get to know me inside out and have no clue that those were draining problems that plagued me at one point.

The thing is they did drain me... There were days I wanted to just die. I'd sit in a corner feeling the weight of it all like my clothes were soaked in water with a suffocating weight on my body. Nights were my sanctuary that fell into the routine of music.

I guess it all tied in recently, you see. I found a recording that wasn't meant for my ears. I found it beautiful, but it came from a time I didn't know. It came from a darkness I didn't see. At the moment I was too interested in the content to really understand or see it.

It wasn't until I stood at a gas station pumping gas that I seemed to connect the dots.

My problems aren't the demons I've drowned. They're the demons I've embraced that can no longer control me. I'm better for overcoming it all, and they help me understand others who suffer under their claws. The thing to understand is that I am not damaged goods, and you aren't either. We've lived in a way that adventures don't measure up to. We've evolved in a way that a pile of years still can't compare. It's an ongoing journey, and that is what keeps you sympathetic.

THAT was the click. There are things that are sacred to me. There are things that got me through a lot which would never touch my fingertips again, no less be shared. Then who am I to forget that? Who am I to deny someone else that safety?

No one.
I'm no one to do that. That's where my guilt kicks in. I didn't understand. I know words weren't spoken in that moment about the importance of it, but I want to believe I knew better. I guess I do blame myself for it and not the other party. That's the truth, because I should have known better.

I'm an open book to an extent. I'm not an open book in the scribbles of melodies or in the walls of a recording studio, though. Music has always been that safety blanket, and it helped me get out of a dark hole. There are parts of it that I've continuously revisited throughout my life in those dark times that I felt alone.

I haven't shared this with anyone, but I feel it's only fair to rip a piece of my flesh for what I've done.

Last summer I got really sick regarding my voice, and that had to be the hardest time. Not only was I going through the process of my grandpa dying, but I was losing my voice. I'm that person who refuses to go to doctors, by the way. I'll go if I'm forced to by my body, but I tend to just go through the motions.

This was different. I went to the doctor and nothing helped. Nothing... I remember looking at the city lights with Bryant and crying last December. That was it. I told him I couldn't sing. I didn't want to be part of the band, because the more I tried to sing the less I could talk. I'm terrified of coughs now. It feels like I have a fire in me. I can't hit those notes. I can't. I guess that's why I was taken aback by that recording. It took me back to the little light in a dark hole that I knew I won't get back. It's not defeating, but it's bittersweet.

Bryant told me I'd be fine last year. He said I could still sing. We'd figure it out and reteach me if we needed to. I don't think anyone understood, though, and I didn't try to explain. Sure, I could learn a different way, but no one understood it literally hurt. It hurt to talk. It hurt to breathe. The less I sang, the better it felt.

It felt like trickery. I was being told I couldn't do the one thing that had always brought me comfort.

The one thing that felt like that life vest was being ripped off my body.
Dramatic. I know.

I think I accepted it, too quickly, even if it felt like my voice was being stolen.

It didn't feel like giving up, either. It was a hobby, I loved it, but it held too much baggage. I wanted a fresh start. I still found my voice in lyrics. I guess I'm just talking about it now, though.

I had told Bryant it stayed between us. He wouldn't tell Ty or Andy. He wouldn't tell Jessica or anyone. Anyone.

Besides, we were all slowly going our own ways.

So back to this turbulent post.

I think at a younger age things felt like life and death. I look back and see that those things weren't big deals. I look at now and know that my big deals will one day be little ones. That's life.

I also recognize I'm alright. Things get shaken up, and you sometimes revisit a little bit of something left behind, but as long as you don't stay there... you're fine.

We're all human.
We all hurt.
We all bleed red.

And guess what? None of us are perfect. We have demons. We have pasts.

I think my big fear is when life comes, will we push those we love away?

I know I won't. I might see the motions, but I'll pull at the end of the day. I never want to be pushed away like this, especially when I recognize the process.

I'm sure some of you expected me to tell you what everything is like, and maybe I will at some point, but that isn't today.

It's just hard. You're a rat. You sit in rooms full of adults with forms of PhD's trying to figure you out like a puzzle. You're no longer the person but a number. It gets dark. You decide what you show, though. You decide when you want it to be over.

I will say this, medication is a chemical fix, but the overall fix lies within yourself.

People become accustomed to the pattern of being in the funk. They temporarily rise to only give in at the first sign of trouble. You learn to get stronger. You learn that this is something only you can do for yourself. It's crazy, but you get through it.

You just sit there and remember death is not the answer. A permanent fix to a temporary problem is not the solution.

When you try to kill yourself, you regret it. You regret it when you feel the air being sucked out of your lungs. It all looks like fire and your mind jumps from memory to memory. You want to stop and then it's all dark.

Every hole you fall into during the process makes you stronger. Every outlet you lose reminds you that it's okay, because you have yourself. You are your worst enemy and greatest ally.

I can keep going, but I just want to say that I get you. There's plenty of people that get you. Everything will be better. You'll get through it however big the load, and you'll feel human, too.

You won't be in this fog forever.

Anyways, if you haven't heard it yet, I love you. One day you'll love yourself, too. It's okay that you are how you are as a result of what you've been through, but it won't be forever. You are good. YOU ARE GOOD.

Xx

Maintaining A Voice

Being a couple doesn't mean you mold into one jumbo human.

Even if you're a couple, you are still two separate people.

This post isn't meant to rip apart relationships, though. I mean I'm in one. I guess I've just learned a few things lately. It's not anything new, but it's been applied...

It's easy to give your all to someone you love, you know. I mean it isn't always easy, but it comes naturally. What I'm saying is that sometimes we find ourselves spiraling in a string of actions that feel strange to us... We give someone something we may not have known we could or were willing to... but it happens. What now? 

Stay calm. It's not the red flag to your relationship unless it is.

Don't worry... in this case it's a happy ending. 

So suddenly you're exposing yourself--your darkness--to someone in a way that's painful but somehow easy... You give someone more than you ever were willing to, and that's okay. You do that out of love, but the important part is to look at yourself during that process.

Look at yourself and question if you've lost your voice or if this is a transitional point in life where you share this and give this much to this person out of love...

I can sit here and tell you that it's been rocky lately. I've been tested in ways that I didn't think I would be, but I've come out of it all stronger.

At one point I sat in my rental and cried. I cried about everything. I cried about an event not knowing then I was crying about my situation. I felt myself get rocked, and I questioned it all. I recently also saw someone dear get rocked and question a lot as well...

Anyways, I questioned my voice. I'm glad to say that I can look at my relationship and know that I have a voice. I can get scared, but I'm not silenced. He's always willing to listen and, more importantly, attack the problem with the right solution.

That's important, because I know I can communicate with my significant other. I haven't given up who I am to please this person. I've grown with them, and I think a lot of people confuse the two.

I look at it and feel lifted... I can't wrap my head around the fact that I've built little routines with someone, either. 

Not in this way that unless you're a part of you might not understand the peace coming from the act itself.

Anyone could look at it as ridiculous. You talk on the phone not accomplishing anything? 

That's not the case. It's a nice routine. Our relationship has incorparated itself into a day from sunrise to sundown and everything else. He does his thing walking around all cutely, because he doesn't want to make noise at home. I tend to split my attention and soak in the comfort of hearing his voice, about his day, telling him how this and that happened. His excitement with his work day is always welcomed.

You text that much?

I can't imagine not wanting to communicate with him. The past few days we've been shorter with each other, and it's made me appreciate his little messages more. I smile at his updates. My heart swells at his love infused texts. I know he can't always be at my beckoning, and we acknowledge the honeymoon phase ending, but it hasn't taken the love with it. I still send him rambly texts, and he still loves them.

You keep his voicemails?

They're stories. I don't keep them all, but the ones that show me something have stuck around. It's the messages with the almost palpable desperation to communicate with me on some level that make me dizzy in a sweet way. It's the way I hear his frustration... I can tell you what happened that day. I hear the way we've grown separately and together in his messages.

I can go on... but the point is that despite of how ridiculously in love you may all see me act... there's a voice there. I'm still Laura. He's someone who scares me in the same way that he can ease me, but I know he wouldn't abuse it. He wouldn't abuse how rocking this love is and the lengths I would go for him. He wouldn't abuse the voice he has and I listen to just as I wouldn't abuse my voice or how he listens to me.

I'm able to let him open doors within me that I've held shut for years. 

Basically, he's in this process of turning me inside out. He's seen the ugly inside and the process of it...

Even then... we're a couple. He loves me with him and on my own. He's not clipping my wings or transforming me into someone unknown. That's important. I'm comfortable and HAPPY with him, and I don't feel silenced or ignored. Sometimes I say too much and probably pain him, but I don't ever feel the need to lighten the load. Is that bad? Not if you know what I mean. I'm honest with him and tell him what he needs to hear even if it isn't what he wants to hear. I think of his well being before his want to hear me. 

I don't find myself adjusting my words or truth... He's not someone I feel I have to be different for to be loved by... if THAT makes sense.

My words aren't meant to cut him, but they are meant for him and his wellbeing. 

I love him in an unconditional way. It's a forgiving love. It's patient. It's timeless. It's growing. It's flexible. 

It's afraid, sometimes, and even jumps to conclusions but takes the risk to communicate and ease the wrinkles along the way.

It's domestic in the way that I find peace just laying beside him... His presence alone is enough. 

Having met him has changed my life, and I don't want him to ever forget it...

But I would never lose my identity to him, and that's important for anyone. 

The person you love should not take your identity away

You shouldn't try to take someone's identity

It's that simple...

You're probably wondering how any of this correlates with having a voice or anything really. It does, though. I promise.

Being in a relationship requires compromise, and sometimes one party compromises more... it happens. There will be times that happens, and it needs to be done for the right reasons. You're the judge of that bit, though...

That's why you need to have a voice. You can't melt into one. It's good to be an unbreakable force, but you need your individuality. A person has two separate legs that work together. They don't mold into one... They stay two separate legs but become a great pair. lol

You need to come out and communicate to maintain a relationship. I've always been a strong believer that in order to fully be in a healthy relationship, you need to fully embrace yourself first.

Maintaining a voice is maintaining individuality. You can't be an individual if you haven't allowed yourself that pleasure. 

My advice is to enjoy single life. There's no rush to fall in love or have someone. What for? They won't add to your value. A MAN/WOMAN does NOT... I repeat does NOT give you value. YOU are valuable. YOU matter. YOU on your OWN are already important.

Don't look to life as lacking when you're on your own. Enjoy yourself. Embrace yourself. Never look to yourself as requiring a faceless individual to be whole.

You will meet someone and it could be amazing, but it will fall apart if you can't be yourself. Being in a relationship is level 2 of being single--single life is level 1. You learn things in level 1 that are required for level 2.

In other words, being single will give you a voice and teach you what you'll need to know to maintain it.

Don't sacrifice who you are for anyone. Growth in a relationship is very different from sacrificing yourself. Know the difference.

Loving someone is never wanting to silence them.

Xx

Static

Noise... it sounds like static.

It's all engulfing me, and I crave silence...

It feels like I'm trying to water a flower that's closer to ashes than anything. It's only been hours, and I'm already at a corner with red hands turning my throat purple.

My heart feels wounded, and I see why I stay at arms length. Words cut me in ways stitches can't repair. There's things I wish weren't ever said... things I had no intention to hear from those lips.

I guess I recognized I was too sensitive for my own good, and I'd rather be in bliss than feel the crumbling under my feet.

I can't unhear words, and I can't quite keep the tears from burning layers of my willingness.

Beyond Imperfect

But sometimes I feel a little extra imperfect. I'm far too emotional, and I can't quite get a grip. I cry until I'm dehydrated and my tears feel like they've carved creeks into my cheeks. I'm all blotchy and overly unpleasant.

I try to look at the positive to things to a fault until I become wary of it all. Suddenly all I can do is feel hurt and disapproval. All I see is my frustration, and all I feel is defeat.

I blame it on my baby syndrome, but I don't know if that's always the case.

Am I a victim? No.

I do feel attacked, though. I feel like I am attacked for being the baby at times. I'm the easy target, and I adore too much to bite back.

My mind is like a growing tree with branches constantly spreading out at an impossible speed, every branch being a different possibility... a different outcome. Some branches just grow stronger while others snap with the slightest of pressure.

I guess I'm immature for saying that, huh? That I get picked on... but the alternative is believing I deserve it. I'm supposed to have this tension with them, right? It's not that, though. I want to coexist. I want to understand. I don't want a tug of war...

I've seen how it is to give in and to completely take off. I just what the best of the two. Is that such a crime? I don't want to obey, but I don't want to detach.

I understand that there's a lot going on. I understand that. I just don't understand why it has to be the load I carry. I don't want to, and that might be selfish... but I want to do what makes me happy while maintaining that tie...

I want as much of the pie, but it feels like the pie doesn't always want me.

I don't want to hole up and mope about what is already done. It does hurt to feel myself being cut off for not giving in, though. It's not necessarily the cut off that hurts, but the meaning behind it that stings... what it signifies is what makes it painful...

How to make me give in? Pressure. Okay.

That's what it is, right? I'm being pressured to bend at the knees. I'm being cast out in some ways to turn around and beg for reentrance. I'm being axed out to be kept in a small perimeter.

I have a voice in my ear whispering all the things that are wrong, but I can't find myself agreeing with that lack of logic... I'm told to nod. I can nod, but I can't agree.

I can't be told what to think or feel.
I can't compromise who I am or want for anyone's sake...

Somehow the repetition is the blow that knocks me over. It's in the moment that I turn my back and feel the iron on my tongue as the blade plunges and twists from behind.

I'm suffocating.
I'm a burden.
I'm trouble.
I'm immature.
I'm ungrateful.
I'm thoughtless.
I'm inconsiderate.
I'm a bad influence.

The list goes on, and it feels like a whirlpool. I'm being spun and pulled in different directions. I can't find my place in my own mind at this point.

My lips are cracked between the sobs and choking. My eyes burn as if my tears had suddenly become acidic, and it feels like a broken record being sealed into my mind.

Am I suffocating? Am I such a burden? Am I trouble? Am I everything I felt so distant from? Am I the flawed sad creature I'm being told I am, or is it an attempt at taming me in a sad twist of events? Why does it feel like I'm constantly being conditioned to feel like I'm not good enough?

I can't say.

It's in that overwhelming flood of emotion that left feels like right and right feels like a blur.

My cheeks are hot but not from a warm flush of love.

My cheeks are hot in an attempt to stay warm, because everything feels cold. My bones have been covered in a frosty layer, and all I can hear now is the shattering of my teeth.

That's what I have to feel right? Alone. I have to feel alone and cold to throw any logic away. I need to be plagued by the murmurs and emotions of displacement.

I've been down this road. I've seen this road develop in polar opposites. I guess that's my problem. I don't think about solely my options. I don't necessarily think about what will just save me. Is that it? I think so.

If I discarded everyone else's best interest, it'd be easier.

I can't go, because I want to do it right.
I can't obey blindly, because I'd compromise myself.

I can't let anyone play on my emotions to control me.
I can't let my emotions weaken my drive.

I'm being told I should worry.
I should be worried.

There's all these problems on my hands, and I need to deal with them.
I'm expected to be in a puddle of self loathe.

The tears hurt now.
I feel imperfect in a way that burns.

I feel imperfect in the way that I fall short. In the way that my best isn't quite good enough. I feel imperfect in the way that I'm different. I feel imperfect in the way that what they need isn't what I am... that giving in would be easier for them and miserable at best for me. I feel imperfect in the way that I pull someone precious to me into a spiral of this... problems.

I don't feel beautifully imperfect tonight. I feel imperfect in the sense that it's all slightly heavier on my chest.

And I wonder what the right choice is. I wonder when I became the punching bag without legs. I think about what I'm being told I should worry about, but I know that's not the way.

My skin crawls at the thought of how expensive not bending my knees is turning out to be, but I can't say I regret it.

I can't say I'll ever bend my knees.

I can't say I'll be made to believe who I am is disgusting or a disgrace.

A momentary slip...

That's normal. Not being perfect is normal. Everything that is said isn't true, though.

It's just hard to feel the weight push me down. It's just hard to feel the floor beneath my feet give in like sinking sand.

I guess sometimes not giving in means not fighting back.

But my fault lies in wanting acceptance. I want support, and it's something I need to understand doesn't always play a role in my story.

I guess I got used to a different support... with him.
A kind of support I felt at home with and suddenly wished came from home, too...

Anyways, life is never quite easy. It takes adapting...

I just need to remember how to recognize manipulation and not let myself give in.

I need to look at the big picture and recognize the good in everything and everyone. I need to acknowledge the opportunities for growth.. I need I need I need.

I need to do all of these things
I can't lose my sanity
I can't let my emotions overwhelm me
I can't let myself be a liability, because that's how it feels, doesn't it? Sometimes...

I'm imperfect like that. I need to think about what I need to be to keep a family unit together, but all I want is to feel what I feel and be me.

So why don't I?
Why do I tell myself that isn't the right thing?

I don't know.

I blame it all on not being perfect. I'd never want to be perfect. I guess I just wish I'd stop wishing they'd see my imperfection as beauty... substance... anything that was separated from failure.

I'm not illogical. I just don't see the point in freaking out. Worrying about all of these expenses won't do anything. Worrying about everyone else won't make me feel any better. Letting anyone tell me that everything is my fault and on me, though, isn't right.

Being trained to be cold isn't who I am, either.

I might not be what everyone wants of me, but I'm someone I wouldn't trade for anybody...

Sure I'm not the best in many ways, but my shortfalls are opportunities to grow... I can't let anyone bring me down for that.

I'm not an animal that can be beat into obedience, and I won't let anyone turn me into a scapegoat... I'm not driven into paranoia by the flaws others point out in me. I'm quite the opposite in that sense. I face the fear or flaw and turn it into something to smile about... I can't stop now.

I know what I want. I know where I want to be. I know why I'm still here, and I know this isn't where I want to stay... Given the time to chose one over the other... I know my choice. I'm just trying to be better than the ones before me.

That's the thing, though, I don't like to complain about something that can be changed. I don't like putting up with things when I no longer have to. I don't want to leave like that, though.

It feels like I've already left or at least been isolated. I feel like I'm being groomed to become a financial profit more than anything, and that's what will drive me over edge if anything... I don't want to be controlled or held back. I don't want to stump my growth for someone's selfish benefit. That's the seed of frustration, a majority of it at least... I want to grow for myself and for someone I love. I want to grow with them, and I don't want to be held back this way... The more they try to cut me at my roots the more they grow away from them...

I don't play games. I feel myself spinning trying to find my balance, and I find it in a pair of eyes I've come used to waking up to... That's where I'm finding my sanity.

That's where I'm grounding myself. That's where my strength is coming from to make sense of this. My senseless crying seems so foolish when I see him. Sure, some things are frustrating... there's so much going on, but he's there. Somehow that makes all the difference...

He makes all the difference, and I know all I need is patience. No matter the obstacle... no matter the time... I love him, and I know it'll all be worth it. A lifetime with him is worth any tug of war with anyone, honestly...

I mean he loves me as perfectly imperfect as I am, and that means more to me than anything...

Xx

College Sucks: From An Annoyed 22 Year Old Girl

Oh how familiar is this post, huh?

Look, I'm just trying to let my frustrations out.

Can we talk about college, though, and why it really really DOES suck?

Don't get me wrong... I'm as nerdy as they come. I love a good study guide, and I get excited with flashcards. My eyes sparkle at the sight of a syllabus. I'm all about sitting for hours and reading about anything and everything. I'm all about it...

What I'm not about is this thing we pay for and call "college." I mean I guess you could say I love to learn, but I'm not into torture.

My grandma recently passed away, and I was ...maybe even still am in a weird state of mind. I emailed my professor trying to explain the circumstances. Her reply was to drop me. She dropped me from the class.

I've been having a war with my accounting professor over my grades. She finds any excuse to penalize me, because I don't try to earn the grades I get. She's been upset I didn't sign up for any of her career days, and I even miss class because of work. She locked the door on election day, because people were disregarding the importance of her class and voting instead.... Yeah, I mean who cares about the presidency when you have to go to accounting, right?

My Ethics teacher also dropped me in the beginning of the semester when I let him know I would miss the first class because of a job interview. I showed up to the second class, and he made an example of me as a woman and the way "we" think we can make men bend rules for us.

It's easy to say this feels like the semester from hell. Did I mention how funny college is? I got hit on by a guy who wouldn't go away, today. He literally kept bothering me up to my car. There was campus security coming around, and I had to tell the security guard that this guy was bothering me... That's the thing... college is full of guys who think they can ignore a girl's "NO." Isn't that just the world we live in, though? That's another story for another time.

I'm just frustrated with college. We're forced to take classes that have nothing to do with our major. We have to pay insane amounts of money, but there's people who enroll in college for just FAFSA and get crazy amounts of money that never goes to their education... Yet I'm disqualified for that money, because my parents make enough money. Yo, my parents don't pay for my education! Their money goes to bills, cause not every American makes money like they shit...

Professors think all we do is go to their class and dream about their lectures... Look, I have a job and 6 other classes. I'm just a 22 year old girl who is annoyed with the logic behind this system. I'm just trying to better myself while trying to adult on my own. Just as education stopped being free so did everything else. I'm an "adult," now and all of my college student money that is earned WHILE I go to school unfortunately can't all go to that Geology course that has nothing to do with my major. I have to eat, pay for gas, and I get sick, too.

Look, life isn't fair, but I'd like to punch college in its little poopy face and talk about what I expect from a professor when I'm paying for these courses.

Let THAT be known.

6 Months Into Forever

Time stops when I see him... but then it doesn't. It's like time has a skip to it. It's the skip I get in my step when I'm just too excited to stay in my skin.

Yesterday was our six months, and it might seem minuscule to some people... but it was everything to me. It wasn't a matter of the time but the treasure I see in "us."

We went a week without seeing each other, him being in a different state, just being overall busy to spending a wonderful evening together, nonetheless,  and waking up in his arms this morning.

It was perfect.

The only thing I wish would have been different was the amount of time I got with him.

I can't picture a day I won't want that constant contact. I can surely see the days we grow frustrated with each other over dumb things and other not so dumb things, but I can already tell you, or anyone, that he's that person for me... What I mean by that person is that he's the person I will fight for and always want to make things work with. He's the person who will always receive compromises from me, without a doubt. He's the person whose sides I want to know... all of them, even the ones he may be ashamed of. He's the person for me... the person I want to be with at my highest and lowest. He's the person I'm the most comfortable with in a very different way than the rest of the world.

It's crazy how it all plays out.

Yesterday was our first concert together. Did I mention it was the Saint Pablo Tour? Yeaaah. Yeezy yeezy yeezy.

It was great.

It was just bizarre, though. My friends know I will sing along, dance, and just get lost in it really.
I wasn't crazy.

I wasn't bouncing off walls. I was buzzing in a very calm way. I was soothed, and it was all Jacques.

I was so enamored by him... even more than before.

I didn't feel the need to sing along, because I wanted to hear him sing along. I wonder if that's part of loving someone. I've always been the talkative one, and I still am... but I just seem to want to hear the sound of his voice.

I was getting my nails done on Tuesday, and the ladies adore him. We were all talking, it was mainly them asking me questions I would shyly answer. There was one observation that echoed during Kanye, last night. It was that while I was so talkative and lively I seemed to calm down with him. I maintained my light and beauty but in a sense of awe... I became a little quieter and let him talk. I look to him with loving eyes and just soak in his words.

It's true.

It's not that I change, but I'm a specific side of myself with him. I'm a very content side... I'm a side that I only am with him... a side I only want to direct to him.


We celebrated our 6 months in such a beautiful way. We got to see Kanye, which some people might not get, but it goes back to almost 7 months ago... give or take.

He drove up one day with a copy of PABLO. I felt my heart do a backflip as he looked to me with that smile and handed me the CD. I can't explain what went through my head exactly in that moment, other than realizing this guy thought about me.

We had spent hours beforehand, already, talking about Kanye. You could say Kanye was at the start of it all. I mean he was! It's surreal, really, how that burnt CD got us to today.

At one point it was back in his hands, and then he placed it on my car. That little trading of the CD started it all. That call that followed... that's a story forever imprinted in my heart.

There was nothing effortless and yet everything was effortless about how we got together in the sense that the fit has been natural from the start. Work, though, is something we've had to put into this in the healthiest of ways.

It's this gradual commitment I see us coming to. He said something last night, actually.

"I'm tying myself down to you. That's what I'm doing, let that be known. I'm one of those that is walking in and closing the door behind him."

Those words, however short of a moment, took my feelings by storm. They were out of the blue, unexpected... but welcomed. I felt his grip tighten, and I forgot about how I had worn a pair of heeled boots without breaking them in... aka I was having trouble.

The night felt like a nice commemoration of these past 6 months. It was nice to see how we went from strangers to sharing a bed together and yet I make him turn around while I change. He lets me have it, though. He lets me have it all. He takes my indecisiveness and rolls with it. He takes my stubbornness and adjusts to it. He takes me as a whole at my best and worst.

The night was full of moments that made my heart swell with love.

He dressed the bed while I played with a blanket. He changed and cuffed his shirt while he didn't notice how in love I grew with him in that room...

He paced the hallway, and I heard the squeaking of his shoes, while I did my makeup in a poorly lit bathroom, but I couldn't stop smiling in there.


The way he looked at me and slipped his hands onto my hips.

How he so excitedly opened the car door to the perfect surprise... a vinyl that went back to the mixed CD he made me for my birthday, a single rose, and such a heart-filled card. I was shocked and just so so in love to read his words... his love. It was unexpected, and I wanted to jump into his arms. I want to hug him right now and kiss him for hours.

I want to go back to that room and just spend a day with him without the outside world interrupting us....

Even driving to The Forum was a nice drive.

He was amazing. The way he held me during the show... The way he jumped up, too... omg.

The way he would kiss me mid songs. I just can't even explain it without feeling light headed.

The thing is every moment with him has been a line in OUR movie. I wish I could stop time and sit down with him to watch our lives come together... watch it all play back from the beginning to now and after...

I swear he makes fun of me with his best friend. I'm sure of it, but then he looks at me... and there's moments in particular that he looks at me like I'm his world... I wonder if he thinks of all the teasing things he says and realizes that he's a fool for me... that he loves me in a way he, himself, could never measure

Because I'm the first to say I am crazy. I'm crazy for him. I am a fool. I'm a fool for him.

It's all just like a puzzle. All of these pieces are building a picture of us for the future, and I want it even when those pieces don't seem to match up. I want the struggles and joys, but I want them with him.


No other person than him.

I want his sweet singing in my ear. I want his curious hands and his heavy breathing. I want his silly faces and his selective patience. I want to end my nights in his arms and start my days lost in his eyes.


I want a lifetime with him and then some.
I want this life and the next.
I want his soul and mine to stay intertwined like our limbs at night.

I love him. I love him. I love him.

I can't every say that too many times.

My head is foggy.
My eyes are tired.

I know he's out there having fun at round 3 with his best friend at Kanye, and I'm so happy knowing he's having the time of his life... but I want to say more. I want my eyes to stay open. I want to write it all. I want to say it all.


But I guess there are some things that will have to wait to be said as my eyes grow heavy, and I admit that being with him makes all the difference... I'll leave it at that. Everything is better when we're together.

I never want to run from him.
I always want to run with him.

I want him to know

I just want him to know it all. I want him to want it all. I want to do it all with him.

Unplanned.

We're born a ball of life... all of the possibilities floating in space, but I don't think anyone looks at us and can possibly imagine what will come of us... not in the end

You see, I can sit here with a tape that holds my life up until this day, but I don't think that after the first few minutes anyone, myself included, could say I'd be who I am. I think people around us, especially our loved ones, hope for the best... But they can't possibly know what the outcome of the passing days will make of us.

I could probably tell you the moments I remember that made impacts in my life. I could sit here and tell you what people helped shape me. I could sit here and tell you what awoke my hunger to succeed.

I could sit here and tell you everything, and I'd still miss vital details here and there.

It's crazy, though, how these two years have seen me change more than the twenty years before...

I guess a lot of it is polishing.

I mean I like to believe I cultivated a majority of my character or at least the core in my teens. I'm still growing, but it's in different ways. My awareness is sharper. My patience is much more selective. My kindness isn't as naive.... And yet my softness remains.

It's just crazy, like I said.

My layers are evolving, but my core stands still. My dreams change. My challenges shift. Who I am inside doesn't. I only grow, and with growth comes knowledge.

Knowledge is a fickle thing...

I had this amazing professor who probably saw more in me than anyone before him, my parents included... He was fascinated with my journal entries and always seemed to pluck my brain any chance he could. He was very much like a father figure of sorts by the third class of his that I took. I actually spent a whole year after taking his last course writing in a journal and giving it to him once it was done. It was a silly thing, really. He gave me a list of questions and asked if I could answer them. I remember being so sure until the pen touched paper and only trembled without destination. A year later I finally finished and gave him this raggedy old journal. It had it all in there. In the moment, I think I just wanted to be rid of it. I realized a lot of things that year, and I found myself lost in a web of spiders.

I saw him recently to only hear him say what he had said so many years ago, "you're too smart for your own good."

I didn't understand it until he introduced me to my favorite writer. Then, I understood it wasn't just a compliment. It was laced with sadness until recently. I think he, along with too many people, saw me as something special that couldn't last. Everyone besides maybe my brother was probably waiting for the moment I'd implode and change or evaporate.

I think he found the parallels in my words and assumed the worst that way. Sometimes I think people do the same and assume I'm ready to fall apart.

I don't think he understood me truly until he saw me now and saw that the flame was blue, but it was stronger for it. My strength lies in the very place it's threatened. I'm not burdened, and that's something that has always been that way.

There aren't pebbles filling my pockets pulling me into the depths of unknown waters. There's an endless supply of pebbles falling from my hands, building mountains to elevate me out of dark waters.

I guess that's why I'm not afraid of demons. I'm afraid of mundane things like the dark and old wood floors that make me think I'm about to be killed, but I'm not afraid of the demons we all carry beneath our skin, nailed to our bones.

I'm not romanticizing any of it, but I'm simply unafraid to swim with the shadows...

I guess you could say this professor became an important person in my life, to a degree. The truth is... as much as I loved my friends, none of them understood the thunderstorm in my head. He introduced me to pen and paper in a way I had never allowed myself to be acquainted with anything. Everything I had written before had been shared with someone. I spent a year weaving my soul into that journal's spine without a single intent of letting anyone see it. It was a surprise when I found myself walking to the humanities building and into his office.

I felt boulders crumble off my back when I did, and I realized that I would always be my greatest ally and most fearsome obstacle.

No pill or doctor could tell me how to fix myself. No group session would fix every trauma. No chemical could turn me into the societal construct of normality.

I think that was when I finally loved myself. I saw beauty in myself beyond the surface or any appearance standard. I had spent years helping fix everyone and letting myself fall down branches to keep everyone around me sane.

I'm glad I had this time to myself...

I learned what being selfish really meant, and it wasn't something horrid. It was needed and welcomed.

These last two years to the date have been a cleansing period of sorts...

I started to understand what friends were truly the ones who would have my back and who would be the first to drench me in gasoline before they lit the match and blamed me for it.

I can't say I've perfected it, but I've come to let go of many memories and have gotten better at seeing people for how they are to me now.

I spent a good portion of the last two years writing songs on a red couch and in recording rooms letting the voices in my head escape. I've also just spent time on my own for myself and come to my own before letting anyone else step into that door.

I didn't need crazy drinking and partying to live out that time...

I've immortalized demons in paper and given life to feelings I would never give up.

There was a time where every friend I thought had been my best friend was no where to be found, but I stood back to back with a six foot giant called Bryant who I couldn't stand initially. I found friends in unexpected places and will forever be thankful to everyone... Jax, Carmen, Bryant, Angie, Danny, Jess, Alysha... everyone

Bryant, though...
He was a typical fuck boy in many ways. He was the typical guy who broke hearts, and I couldn't stand everything I had come to know about him. He reminded me to be humane. He reminded me that there was a human with all of the veins filled of mistakes. He showed me what redemption looked like for him. He taught me an unexpected patience.

He showed me that he wasn't his mistakes...

That none of us were.

With time I wasn't tied to him because of a school assignment. Ty, Andy, Bryant, and I grew close between chords and aimless melodies. Jessica, Alysha, Karina, and Ali were always around, too. We'd watch as Bryant picked up girls much to our distaste. I didn't like his games, and then he met a girl who made him weak in the knees. I remember the day he fell in love. I remember the day she broke his heart. I remember the moment he looked back at me with a few drinks under his belt talking about how he had kissed our friend. Then I realized that the new look in his eyes was one similar to the one I saw in my own.

I saw how different it also was, though. I realized however realistic I had become... I would forever be a hopeless romantic and feel that this... this love I have is one of a kind. It's a love of a lifetime. Quote me on that...

So here it is... I met this guy. I've written about him here, before. I remember the day I drove from work to LA. I was speechless... I remember the combat boots I wore and everything. I remember feeling my heart beat. I remember shaking it off. I tired to, at least...

Bryant watched me write. He had a melody, and I was buzzing... I just found the words somewhere laying in the dark from meeting this boy who felt like someone I had always known... Does that make sense? No.

It just felt like a piece of me laid in his palm somehow...

He said things that matched my core in a way he couldn't have known. I sat in my booth trying to understand the click I felt with him... I wanted to know more. He said things only my soul would whimper. I missed the part where I was falling for him...

I remember being back to back with Bryant at a show. Right after he asked me if "the cute boy" had asked for my number yet, and I found myself telling him more about this guy who I couldn't shake...

This guy who I had met in my History of Rock class knew little about me in the bigger spectrum of things but understood how I ticked. He saw the wheels in my eyes and knew enough to keep the smirk to himself.

I was so sure Jacques wasn't interested at times... Bryant told me that was foolish to think.

As I found my footing with my friends, I saw Bryant, Jess, and the rest less and less. We had all gone separate ways, but they really helped me be unafraid in many ways.

I continued to grow in other aspects, and there was this boy who was anything but a fleeting emotion... He was a growing presence... He was so much more

So that brings us back to Jacques.

That boy.

He was different. He wasn't someone I had to mold myself to fit. I didn't have to filter myself, and he was instantly so welcoming... so accepting of me in every respect.

Someone I never grew tired of...

I don't feel a need to defend my love for him, but I find myself here tonight smiling at a way I can summarize a piece of it or at least talk about a piece of our love...

First, I know there are/were nay sayers. It's not something that surprises me.

This is reality, after all. Not everyone likes diamonds. Not everyone is going to like us.

Anyone who is in our lives, though, isn't part of that pool. So really... none of that is relevant.

The thing is... I'm 22. I'm not 7, 12, 16, or even 19 anymore, and I will never be THAT again. I have pieces of those girls, but I'm better than those girls. I'll be better at 23 and even better at 36.

There's a peace to me and a direction where there was aimlessness in them... and that's solely based on my individual growth.

I know people could look at me and say I've changed. Yeah, I'm not the same in that basic level of being older... but my core is cemented. I have changed on my own accord and even just being with Jacques. I've become stronger and less shameless in my skin. I've come to my own, and I've come to understand that my time is precious... I've come to see my value in a way that I can't imagine wasting it on anything or anyone who breaks me down. I don't have the need to understand everyone's demons. I don't have a need to tame everyone's fears...

Thing is... I've changed him more than he's changed me. I see it. I'm so proud of him. I wonder if he sees the beauty in my growth as I see it in him...

See... I see the positive growth in us both, but I see how much of an evolution he's made... I see his actions surpass his words, and this love I have for him only grows.

I feel like when you're growing up you're trying out ice cream flavors. Then you try the one flavor, and you just know. THAT is your flavor...

Does that make sense? Maybe not. I don't know.

I guess the way I can put it is that this is how I've wanted to be. This is better than I could have ever thought it would be. Meeting him I saw him and felt the right fit... It was like it all just evolved naturally. It all evolved how it did, because it was him...

I'm watching two "life tapes" come together, intertwining into an even better montage. Every moment with him, whether we're physically together or apart, is one that I hold close to my heart.

Having met him... Having him in my life... that's the best present I've ever received. There isn't a person who intrigues me more or makes my heart skip beats like him. There isn't a person I'd rather share it all with. There isn't another person like him. I love him...

And it's crazy to think that one person is getting and will get pieces of me no one else will or has plus the pieces I've shared with anyone else...

He's my boyfriend, he's an inspiration, he's my best friend... my rock.

I guess tonight was just a reminder. I sat with old friends talking about an old English course and History of Rock... We talked and toasted Bryant's new opportunity, and I talked to him about Jacques.

How a life with him is worth fighting for. How happy I am with him and within myself. How it's nice to be around them, but there's nothing alluring about the past.

Things are simpler, clearer, and better...

I don't have a thirst to splatter words on melodies and connect with strangers.

I have dreams and goals, but it's clearer. How Jacques has this subtle way of giving me something to believe in that's better than anything else...

How every memory I've made I want to remake with him... I looked at Bryant and asked him if he remembered how I looked at the city lights... The city got me. I got the city.

The city lights were my counterpart until Jacques came around... then they were just a backdrop, and he was the centerpiece...

I have no words. I really don't. It's going to be 6 months on Wednesday. It's going to be 6 months that we've been together and about 10 months of just knowing him...

That's so little compared to how long I've been on this Earth... how long he's lived.

Yet... the time with him is precious in a way that the time before can't quite compare...


There's fun in it all, but as I told Bryant... I'm not lured by the past or any of those things.

He's off to do his thing, and his flight will be leaving soon. I told him what he told me once upon a time. It was as he put it, "you weren't as bad as I thought."

It was a joke, you see. I thought he was absolutely annoying at first, and he is. He's quite annoying, but Ty and Andy tone him down. We were all a big group that had tones. That's why we all worked.

It's nice to see everyone go their way. I'm the youngest, as usual... And I know that's why Bryant had a protective nature with me. I know that's why he pretended to be gay for a week to pull one over me. I know that's why he pulled me to the side and told me it was so me to almost not show up and avoid him telling me that he was proud of me.

He said very sweet things, and I couldn't help smile at his prediction for Jacques and I... He held that same kindness Danny holds for me... The same kindness my old employees did and still do... It made me feel so good.

It wasn't a sad goodbye, either. It was a pleasant good luck. It was a pleasant thank you for being a friend and not another guy trying to get under my skirt. It was a thank you for not judging him and being that ear when his heart got broken. It was a thank you from all of us to each other. We all don't really talk anymore... not much. It's rare. It's nice, though, to come together for the buddy. I think we all knew he needed that restart. It was nice to hear him tell me I've grown... It was nice to enjoy myself and just recognize how distant from all of it I am.

I sat there having a good time, but I was so in tune with how apart from that I am now.

How Jacques has shifted that tide for me... How HE holds that shine... TO ME

Anyways, this is a rambly rambly one.

Jacques is currently in Vegas... and I really do miss him. There's so much in store, and I can't wait to see him come back. I can't wait for all that's coming, either...

But for now... My allergies are ALL ALIVE. Haha...

Sooo
It's time
Good night.

Xx

11 Reasons Why College Sucks

I'm the first to say I love school... but we all have those moments we just roll our eyes at how ridiculous school gets. This semester has been something else. I've had to waste money on things that in no way improve my education, and it all feels like a waste of my time. Naturally, I'll rant about it here. Don't be mislead, though, once all is said and done I do adore school. I have such a thirst for knowledge... Class A nerd here. I just find some parts about college to be quite ridiculous... to be nice. The thing is, all of these sucky parts are temporary like most frustrations. It's all worth it in the end. College isn't always fun and definitely expensive, but it's worth it in the long run. Anyways, here we go...

1. General Ed
You mean I'm paying to take classes that have nothing to do with my major? This is how you get stuck in a Geology class when you're an English major... Cause ya know... understanding rocks will help you in your journalism pursuit, DUH! Really, though. College would be better if you didn't have to touch other classes other than math, english, and your major classes. I'm not trying to learn about the click click tribes, either.

2. The homework load only gets worse
You complained about those crossword puzzles you got from your three-fingered teacher in high school... Well you'll be asking for those days back, because college is going to sometimes be a pile of useless busy work that will rattle your mind. Don't get me wrong... some of it is helpful... but a lot of it is really just time consuming. You'll spend hours on assignments that won't be graded until mid semester or be tossed to the side... Or you'll have to swim out of the hell hole we call an impossible homework load, because professors think all you have to do in life is live and breathe their class... so yeah prepare for 12 hours of homework per class, twice a week...

4. You feel stuck
It's not like grade school where you all start together and end together. Some people get through it so quickly while others take longer. A lot of people compare their progress to others and end up feeling stuck. Trust me, you're not alone. You're doing great, but it CAN get frustrating to watch everyone get done with it all while you still haven't gotten to that point. You WILL, get there, though. You have to remember everyone has different lives. Some people are just doing school, and that's easier to do. If you're working and doing school, it WILL probably take you a little longer, but you are doing GREAT!

5. Suddenly you're an adult
What I mean is that a lot of us don't solely go to school, like I said. Forget making your own doctor appointments... It's more than that. Let me just say it's easier to balance playing games online with school than it is to balance school and work. Don't be an idiot and take 5 or more classes while you work. Trust me, you're going to have a ball trying to tell your boss you're missing the executive meeting to take an accounting exam.

6. Getting the classes you need is harder than surviving the hunger games
I'm all for people going back to school after retiring, but campuses are so backed up. You're suddenly looking at everyone like an enemy, because you're number 3 on the waitlist and know half of the people registered are going to drop right after the last add date.

7. You feel like a monkey made your tests
You know the information, but you spend just 5 minutes trying to understand what the question is asking. Then you spend 5 more minutes understanding the answers... Suddenly you have a strong appreciation for math. You can't screw up the wording on a math test...

8. Parking structures are like natural selection
You have a campus of 30,000 students and only 10,000 parking spots. Cool, bro... I mean forget that I paid for this parking permit. Lemme drive up and down and waste half a tank of gas cause I want to be late to class and just get really familiar with this parking structure.

9. Professors think they can stop you from eating
Ants are part of this world, too. Quit telling me they'll invade this classroom. You and I both know movie theaters don't complain, so this lecture hall will survive. We're all potty trained, so you need to chill. Look, I paid my fees. If I want a snicker doodle while you talk about how Trump is going to kill us all, then I will eat my snicker doodle.

10. Everything is expensive. Textbooks are no exception
Professors who create their own editions... you are a special kind of evil. I'm more than fine renting a used book that will tell me the same thing your edition will, but you want me to drop $300, cause you think you're an author? Maybe you should pursue that and let the real teachers who just want to educate the youth take your spot. Look, I'm just trying to succeed in life without selling my soul and first born. By the end of it, it's like you spend your life paying off the education that was supposed to help you live a better financial life. Oh, the irony...

11. Group projects are the worst
We have a group message going. Lets work together. I'm not your mother or lover, and I will not carry your weight. I refuse to do all the work. My ass is already working and taking too many classes to do the work load of 8 people in a week. So yeah... group projects suck, because everyone hates the class just as much as you do, but you know you'll be the one who gets stuck doing the work to survive.

Truth Be Told...

I sang a song over and over until my vocal chords felt like sandpaper had enveloped them.

It's bittersweet, you know?

Some things...

I did something and didn't tell a soul other than my sleeping boyfriend who I didn't realize was asleep until he had no response that I realized he was in dreamland lol.
But hey I knew they'd judge me. I knew they'd look down on me and think I was weak...

But I don't think they get that I'm not stupid.
I don't think they understand that my strength lies in what they perceive as weakness...

I wasn't going to go through with it, but I think it was something I deserved...

You know... I think it's evident I was doubting myself and looking into quicksand at a very close proximity hahaha

It comes to no surprise that when I don't take a step back for myself there's great people around me that don't just tug at my sleeves... they help me take that step back for myself with open arms for when I do need them.

Thing is I do stupid things. Some things don't end well. A clean break isn't always how it ends up... and you'd think I'd know better. There's times I feel something else is left and go dipping my toes to find fangs snapping too slow, only scratching me, to ever pull me under... but then there's times I'm glad I did dip my feet into the serene water...

Basically, there's someone who hurt me a lot.
What did I do? I reached out to them.

Wait for it...

I was so anxious trying to wear my big girl pants keeping everything so close to my chest...

I had these swollen eyes and felt walls enclosing me. Someone had just used words that had been used on me before. Was it so simple? Was that all it took? Letting someone in left me vulnerable, but I didn't think this blow would come from that direction...

I wasn't in control of my body, and I felt 16 for a moment.

So was I going to dip my feet into the only other person who had had this same opportunity?

Of course not.

So why was I writing?

An email that was never meant to be sent when it was fully written was indeed sent. I restarted my phone. I shook it like a magic eight ball waiting for the convenient undo button (thanks for nothing Apple jk but really? )... and nothing. Word has an undo button. Why can't my email do the same?

Long story short, she replied today.

The email I sent made it clear I had no resentment. Life can be tough... I understood that being dealt the wrong cards and having no support system sets you up for some shitty situations when you're young... being in a pool of blood basically means you're going to come out stained red.

In my email I explained that I still cared, but I wasn't bending over or reaching my hand over that ledge. While I had no intentions of rekindling the friendship we had let be lost... I hoped she had found her way.

In my moment of broken Laura... I hoped that she was okay. I hoped that the person who had seen this side of me for quite a long time and had eased me was now okay.

I spilled a fear as if I was 17 all over again. I started the email saying that I did in fact miss her, but the memory... because I've never found weakness in honesty. I told her she had hurt me. I have given too many passes to people, and I wasn't going to say it had been okay... none of it was.

It wasn't meant as an attack. I wasn't blaming her, but I made it known that while all of that was a thing... I wasn't her victim.

We stood on an equal platform. I've always said that about anyone.

So yeah...

I would never put her down to this day... but I did make sure I pointed out the difference in our execution of the loss we had had.

We officially stopped being friends a year and a half ago.

Everything after that was smoke breaking away from the flames that had been put out so messily.

Anyways, I gave her a break down of life after her. I explained how I was anxious and gave her a brief... very brief snip of how I was in love... how he's a good one. The fear recent events (none his doing) had put in me.

She would have loved him, btw, because I know at the prime of our friendship... she would have rooted for me all the way down the aisle if I chose for it to be that way...

Truth is she held my hair once upon a time as I threw up and reminded me old habits didn't bind me. She made sure I ate when I was so stubborn... She had her good, like any person does

She gave me a break down of her life, as if we had had no knowledge of anything about each other...

She mentioned bringing me up to our mutual friend... the way Jax froze up. I know this is true. Jax is the type to shut down in those situations. Knowing the situation herself, I know it was her way of keeping us apart... because some things are better left alone.

Closure isn't always needed, but I'm someone who has no problem cutting chords that shock me to a pulp... The email response I received was both sad and beautiful... It was the closure of a lifetime

It was the closure for her and anyone else

It made me remember the friend and even sister I knew in her. She told me how things had indeed fallen apart but how she felt it was karma for what she'd done to me...

That broke my heart, but she was always hearing me say what goes around comes around... I guess it was her way of reminding me about that one

She did something I had forgotten friends were capable of in times of complete vulnerability...

She made me laugh.

"I'm glad you met someone who makes you happy, I'm sure he's not bored of you, you're too crazy to be boring. Know your worth, you're a beautiful woman inside out."

Why did that make me laugh? I don't know. Maybe I was reminded of the teletubbie hair and the rolling down hills like dweebs...

She was supportive about my accomplishments over an email... dare I say proud?
Maybe distance does make the heart grow fonder... I felt the genuine words flow from the screen and into my palm...

She told me she still had all the pictures of us... of me alone. That struck a chord, one that only Jacques would know the weight of... and I felt at peace.

She never apologizes, either.

She's more stubborn than my boyfriend and father combined (and multiplied)... but the fact that she did... and told me I was someone she loved and still does... It blew my mind.

The fact that she sat there writing (something she detests to the core) this beautiful response about how she'd taken me for granted... How irreplaceable I am to this day and WILL be... How all of me and who/what I am doesn't go unnoticed... How I can't ever be forgotten only missed and wanted back...

OMG

Her usage of my full name with words of admiration almost cooled my hot head. I was rooted and glad to close a door to a hall of loopy loopy rooms and receive such an unexpected gift in the process.

I won't lie... I do miss her as I said. She did give me her number in case I need it, but she knows me too well.

And my love for someone in the past won't sway me. She expressed her fear of me rejecting her, and I think it's something we both know is inevitable. I do feel good in the sense that I know she needed this, and if that's the last thing I give her... I'm glad.

Because... the number... it's an extended courtesy I won't touch. I've learned to not reread the same book twice and expect a different story, at that... nor do I WANT to. THAT makes all the difference. Besides, that story just isn't my type, and I'm done reading books. I'm writing them, now.

I told Jacques this... and I mean it, and it might be why I do feel I'm seeing clearer in terms of people surrounding me... But it's that when you find that person (him), you're no longer concerned to entertain the rest.

The matter of the fact is I just don't go back, either. It's always good to turn around and acknowledge it's happened... but it's up to that.

Hey, you can read this and say I'm stupid. That's cool, too...

I just won't change for anyone. This is me.

I have no problem sharing who I am...

I am who I am. NO EXCUSES.

I don't always make the best calls, but I'm glad when I go with my gut versus what others think, because beautiful things come from them.

Essentially you get what you put out, right? Not always... but eventually...

Look...
You may call me stupid and naive... but I think I'm great. Hearing from someone how I made their life better... all the substance I brought to them... even after the fact... I can't explain how good that felt right after my ability of being a friend was just ah

All I want right now is to be with Jacques, and I have no shame in that. In this moment, I want to see his smile and just tell him he has no idea how silly I am and what he's up for with me. I want a box full of pictures with that dork... I want a lie full of memories.

ANYWAYS

It's 1 am, and I'm feeling the effects of a great day featuring Carmen and Jackie plus an email giving me that extra reassurance (from a past friend) that anyone who sees me can't erase me...

Because there's nothing scarier than pouring your soul into someone's hands for them to only pour over and step on.

But yeah
Sleepy
Laura is sleepy
Laura will wish she had slept.

Oops

No regrets, though.

My happy at peace rambles may not be as exciting to you guys, but I do hope you're able to find the joy that I'm projecting.

Now... I go to sleep.

Xx

Life Is A Map That Leads To Your Happiness

Life is funny... the way things happen sometimes.

It’s like water droplets in the shower. Some of them roll off effortlessly and others just disperse at contact. You watch them all the same, though. There’s something so fascinating about them. What makes some stay in tact and others burst? Is it the water pressure? Is it their size? Is it the skin?

I don’t know

Then I’m reminded they’re all just water.

I guess that's the point. The things life throws at us are all just water droplets... in a way. Some roll off... Others burst at contact... Then we absorb some

But some burn when they land in our eyes.

~

I’m looking behind my shoulder but not necessarily looking back—never turning back, right?

It’s sort of like evaluating where I am… that’s what it feels like.

I’m the person who won’t make an effort to keep anyone who doesn’t make an effort to be part of my life; that’s who I’ve become.

In just a year I’ve felt so many things shed off my back. If I really sit down and think about it, I might be caught off guard… I already am.

~

I’ve become fearless in terms of solitude. Don't let that word scare you. This isn't meant to be sad... it's a testament of just how happy I am, and I didn't ever think about it until today... I mean I can be in an empty room and feel at peace but feel alone in a room full of people depending on who's there... but I'm not someone who feels alone. I guess you could say being alone isn't something scary or uncomfortable. I’m not someone who seeks anything out of loneliness, and I wish more people weren’t afraid to spend time with themselves. There's nothing to fear... Being with friends is fun, but it's also nice to have time to yourself and enjoy life for yourself. This is coming from an extrovert hahaha

You can't build yourself around people, basically... You also need to acknowledge that trying to surround yourself with people in order to not be alone will not fill a void... I see so many people do this, and it's something I wish more people would realize isn't the better option

I mean…

Quantity is not quality. That’s a lesson of a lifetime. I’ve always had quantity. It’s never hard to have quantity, and I feared losing quantity for a long time. Then I realized that in all other aspects of my life the quantity factor didn’t scare me.

I didn’t settle, so I wasn’t going to start then…

What I mean by that is that someone else doesn’t measure my value and self worth… How I see myself isn’t dependent on anyone else. Anything I want to include in my life is something I want to be ultimately good for me. I won’t gain something to fill a void. I rather wait out for the right piece worth my efforts. That’s something I’ve also learned along the way…

It’s hard to verbalize but what I’m trying to say is that it’s like baking a cake. You don’t start with a cake. The process of learning to make the right cake for you involves trial and error. Sometimes you don’t have all of the suggested ingredients, and you find substitutes. That might be the cake you want at that moment, but is it or is it convenient? Is it… the right fit? Are you trying to adjust to it? If you know what you want don’t try to settle for a substitute… You can’t always follow someone else’s recipe, sure… Beat to your own drum, but don’t adjust your beat unless it’s for you. I mean… in terms of that cake... Sometimes you don’t need icing on a cake to enjoy it, but if you like icing don’t go without it. I’m going in a circle. Oh boy…

Does that make sense? No, huh? Whoops

Wellll

Look,

I’ve always had this backpack of sorts slung over my shoulder where I carry people and things I shouldn’t. They were pulled out of my heart like shriveled hair strands stuck in a drain—clogging my growth and judgment—and put into a bag that only weighed my shoulder down. Some things are just what you know but not necessarily right. It would have been easier to drop it… the backpack, but you can’t blindly drop a filled bag, either. You can’t, right? You have to look in it at some point and question if they’re things you need or just weight you’re accustomed to carrying but don’t need to or want to carry.

That’s life, though, isn’t it? We carry burdens on our shoulders… whether they’re people, traumas, fears, expectations, etc. Sometimes we carry that self-criticism we’ve been taught and do so blindly, because it’s all we know. We don’t know the other end…

As time passes I’m faced with new faces in the mirror and slowly recognize the person on the other end more and more.

I don’t feel limited by others’ influences… I’m aware that I’m the driver in this car.

I’m able to appreciate myself in a greater magnitude, and others don’t influence that, as I said. That’s a big difference, you see…

The things that scared me yesterday have become the fuel I so desperately needed to just grow into myself.

I’m quite open, but there are pieces of life I’ve held close to my chest in the past or been wary to share, at least…. Not because I’m ashamed. I’m not. It’s just always been easier to turn around and put them aside. I’ve just reached the point where I am able to face the past and acknowledge it all as a whole but also pinpoint sections.

A moment in time I can look back to that caused a string of events was in elementary school.

I developed at quite a young age, you know...

It was strange. Everyone around me still looked 10, but I had a set of curves that drew fireflies to the flame.

There was a girl named Tory who liked Jared. She had cavities, and my sister told me all the things that were wrong with her, but that never made me feel better. I didn’t care that she had told me about the x-rays plagued with cavities. I was just never a fan of putting someone down. That didn’t make me feel better about myself…

That didn’t change the fact that she had called me a fat pig now that I wasn’t as flat as a board anymore.

I carried that. It didn’t help that my mom continued to point out how fast I developed. It was a burden to everyone. I wasn’t aware that boys were interested in me physically, and I didn’t care about that, to be quite frank...

The changes in my body turned the smiles from girls I believed were my friends into frowns. At a young age that sucked. I was quite small, though, but everyone else around me kept pointing the fact that certain parts of my physique weren’t exactly small.

Junior high came along, and I found myself trying to hide anything I could. There were times I tried to bandage my breasts. I felt so gross. There were a lot of contributing factors, but I can easily look back and say that Tory’s words echoed in my head for years. I can assure anybody her words echoed in a million voices during the lifespan of my eating disorder.

I don’t talk about it much. I don’t talk about my state of mind during those years. I don’t mention the countless times I sat in that fifth level waiting to be called in… scratching at the intricate patterns of the olive green chair with my left index finger.

I don’t talk about the sessions filled with questions that never helped.

It’s all a part of me, though.

There were sessions with my parents that only served to burry me in quicksand.

Then there were sessions I didn’t say a word but only stared out the window.

More sessions were filled with tears, though.

I guess that’s the beauty of time. Eventually you learn to swim amongst the waves that used to pull you under.

The truth is I had depression; I had anxiety… basically, I was a child enveloped with mental illness, and I felt like an error frozen in time. There was no way I could reach these expectations set for me by myself, family, others... regardless of how much I bent. I was drowning and free falling. There was nothing romantic about it.

That’s the thing. So many people romanticize mental illness and bullying. Everyone wants to talk about the mental illness they have, and it bothers me that people crave a label… because they can’t possibly crave displacement.

That’s what these illnesses amongst many others can feel like…

They suck. I can’t tell you my teen years were terrible in terms of my social life. I was always well liked and never lacked friends. My social life was vibrant.

My mental state was a fog… and my bullying experience was different from what you might imagine. I wasn’t edged out, for example, and constantly made a fool of. My experiences were very much girl on girl crime and very strategic. It was something that for many years put me off to having girl friends. The traumas of those years were deeply rooted in me. I didn’t ever understand why we couldn’t all support each other. I was never a fan of the girls who judged each other and tore one another at the seams. It wasn’t until I grew up a little that I understood that girls are raised this way… to tear each other down. It was a learned behavior set into action by society itself…

I had been stabbed far too much and been scrutinized by girls about my image to feel comfortable around them. I had craved smiles from girls I believed to be my friends, but I only knew the digging of their knives in my back.

Like many things in life, however, finding friends is no exception. Everything before what’s right is wrong. That’s the beauty of finding what’s right.

It’s not until you find those good friends that you acknowledge that those wrong doings done to you weren’t a representation of a whole but only a representation of a select few. You see the bad in its full extent and appreciate the good that much more…

Looking back, I can tell you that those people weren’t all bad. It’s just we were all young. The things they did were inexcusable, but I don’t resent them. I’ve moved on, and I’ve come to meet some great girls.

It’s almost like dating, though. I don’t hold a guy accountable for the mistakes of an ex boyfriend, so I can’t assume all girls will break my friendship heart.

Sometimes you just gotta take a chance and learn from it all.

Anyways, the bullying was so common it would almost be unnoticeable. That’s something that bothers me even more, now, because people have such a cemented idea of what bullying is. Some people are unaware that they’re being bullied/verbally abused. They grow so accustomed to it and believe the cruel words… Bullying doesn’t always have to be physical abuse, either…

Bullying doesn’t even always have to be someone who’s “mean.”

People who claim to love you/care about you are often the ones whose bullying leaves the lasting imprint.

In my case, that was it. It was the things my friends said along with my family that haunted me. I wasn’t one to be deflated by words of strangers who didn’t know me. I WAS hurt when people built negative opinions about me without knowing me, but I wasn’t weighed down by the cruel words from people who felt a life away from me.

That feels like a different life now... I want you to understand that there WILL come a day where you don't need the validation you may feel you require at this moment.

Now, with mental illness… it was a long process, and I don’t think anyone is ever recovered. You’re always recovering. Mental illness isn’t a pastel color palette with savvy and trendy tumblr posts arranged around gloomy quotes.

Mental illness isn’t chipping a nail and saying you’re so depressed.

It’s a constant fight against the waves that pull you under and fill your lungs begging for you to give in. It’s like a constant obstacle you keep jumping over and can’t quite escape as it continuously follows you until you face it head on…

It has so many elements specific to each individual, but it’s definitely a journey you come out of stronger.

I’m not going to sit here and write a detailed post of everything my journey entailed, but I guess this is my extended hand to anyone and everyone.

You’ll have bad days, and you’ll even have set backs after doing so well.

The thing is…. There’s so much waiting for you. Don’t let yourself grow discouraged.

For me, I was always told I was too smart. I was too smart, and that would be my downfall a la Virginia Wolfe status, and it made me cringe. People will look you in the eye and speak believing they understand your struggle, but they’re only romanticizing you like a teen melodrama.

Don’t fall victim to that. Don’t fall victim to yourself, because you’re not that.

You’re not a victim, and you’ll get through that tunnel to the clearing. You really just have to keep going even when it feels like you’re dragging your feet through drying cement…

You’re not crazy. You’re not damaged goods. The perception you have of yourself is warped in negativity… so much so that you can’t see how amazing you are. Give yourself the chance to have that clear vision.

I’m not going to stand here and tell you it all instantly clicks. It doesn’t. It’s a choice that you make every day like anything else, but you eventually pause and recognize all of your progress. One day you’ll see yourself without the bandages of self-doubt you used to hide under and be able to love yourself... as silly as that may sound to you right now... But it will make all the difference.

I’m the biggest I’ve ever been (physically). I’m aware it’s not even terrible, and I’d be a fool to sit here when I’m not even close to overweight calling myself names… but a younger me would be clawing at her skin right now. A younger me would be sitting around the toilet throwing up and starving for days… A younger me would be so driven by judgment she would forget her worth and be swallowed by the need to fall into line…

That’s sad.

You see we get one body, one chance. Hurting your body like that doesn’t last and doesn’t help you in any way. You’re only slowing down your metabolism and making it harder to maintain a good physique (if that’s something you truly want). The effects aren’t worth it and the problem isn’t solved.

Hey, I’ll be the first to acknowledge I have insecurities, still. I do want to loose weight, but it’s different now. It comes from a healthier place… and it’s for myself.

And look…

The problem isn’t your physique but the lack of love you hold for yourself which is why you’re struggling. You feel ugly… but it’s rooted somewhere else.

Physicals change. Fix your core… it’s what you have to live with even when your physical changes…

I’m not perfect… I can’t tell you I’m always happy with what I see, but I love myself enough to know that I’m my own toughest critique.

Anything anybody says about me DOESN’T change the fact that I love myself enough to pursue happiness over anything.

I am the biggest I’ve ever been, and it’s not my preferred appearance, but I know that doesn’t hold my worth.

Beauty IS in the eye of the beholder. You need to be able to love yourself, because trends change. You can’t live your life fully when you’re constantly trying to model yourself after something for others to admire.

And look...

I have people tell me I have no reason to feel bad and never did. I’m human. We all bleed red. Whether you see it or not, my feelings are valid. Look, I have stretch marks. Big whoop. We all do. Everyone has cellulite. You can choose to laser anything off, but we’re all human here. I’m not as tall as my mom would like. I have an hourglass figure, which is a trend right now, but it’s often hard to shop for. Don’t get me wrong… I do love my body shape. My point is that so many people are clearly driven by societal standards and forget that the people who are perceived as being able to reach those standards aren’t able to either. Photoshop, makeup, plastic surgery, angles, etc, etc… those things are needed to reach the societal standard of beauty which is ridiculous.

Think about that.

If you want to get injections or anything, by all means… I’m saying you do you for you, though. You deserve to be happy with yourself. I’m no one to tell you what your preferences should be. I just think they should be your preferences and come from a healthy place not a need to conform in order to be accepted and so on…

I’m not here to tell anyone how to live, as I said. I just want people to understand that regardless of your struggles, you’ll be okay. You’re all strong enough, whether you recognize that right now or not.

You should be able to look at your life and acknowledge the good with the bad. Know that your scars make you stronger and never be ashamed of your journey. Everyone will always have an opinion, but that doesn’t make it more valid than your own.

The things that feel detrimental right now won’t matter later

The people who make you feel not good enough won’t be putting you down anymore

A lot of it is just becoming aware. Take care of yourself.

Remove yourself from the eye of the storm.

Nurture yourself.

Love yourself.

Face your obstacles/fears and stop running with that backpack full of rocks that have become boulders on your back.

You can’t swim with weights on your ankles.

You can’t fly with snipped wings.

There isn’t a thing you can’t get through, and I truly hope you all recognize that the only thing you need to do is want it bad enough. You will do the work needed to get where you want when it’s what you want.

Beware, you will stumble and even fall at times, but you’ll get back up and come to find that there will be people along the way that will always extend a selfless hand without a second thought without an ounce of judgment and all the love.

Xx