Tag Archives: dark

Professor.

The sky is turning black and the page is blank.

My eyes locked on the darkening window as soft voices drifted in from the open door.

Can you accept something and still be sad?

Ah, yes. Wow, that just connected to far too many parts of my life.

You see, professor, I can’t finish my paper. I can barely lift my hands, let alone a pencil. You see, professor, my head leans against the back of the couch and it’s hard to lift it again. You see, professor, I’m finding it hard to concentrate.

No, professor, I am not tired. Yes, I’ve been getting enough sleep. Yes, I’ve been paying attention (when I can) in class. Yes, you will get your paper on time. No, professor, it will not be my best work. And you see, professor, I can’t care.

You see, professor, this classroom becomes too small. I feel suffocated by the lack of…I don’t know– life? in this classroom. You see, professor, my classmates keep talking about how challenge needs to be paired with support. But you see, professor, they’ve forgotten to pair support with challenge. Professor, their challenges weigh down on me and I fight to not grow bitter against them. Because, you see, professor, they don’t see into my life. They don’t see my loneliness or these days (and days) when I’m unbearably sad. You see, professor, I’m not really close to them. They forget about me. They don’t ask me how I am. And you see, professor, that makes the loneliness so much stronger.

But professor, you don’t see.

And I’ve accepted that this is the way it is for a while. For a while, I will struggle to breathe. I will passively drown. But I wonder if I’ll ever swim again.

I used to be so good at swimming.

Don’t worry, professor. I’ll finish your paper. I’ll make something up. You’ll get it in time.

-Melissa

Advertisements

Two.

I do much better in the daylight.

But it was dark. And cold. All the curtains were drawn so that no one could see in. It was meant to keep them out. But I was kept in. And I was very aware of my heartbeat.

Calm down. You’re fine.

I was fine. I’m fine. I. am. fine. My breath though… it was more shallow than normal. My heart rate was speeding up.

Would you stop? You’re fine. 

Yes, I had to stop. But my head felt funny. I couldn’t think straight. Why couldn’t I breathe like a normal person? Why could I feel my heartbeat so clearly? Am I okay? What should I do? I can’t sit hear anymore. Pacing. No stop. I’m fine. Am I safe here? I can’t stand anymore. Sitting. The floor.

For goodness sake. You’re fine. You know you’re fine. You’re being dramatic. Just breathe.

Just breathe… I can’t! I can’t get enough air. Why is my breath so shallow? Aren’t I breathing? My chest hurts. Should I… call someone? Text someone? What would I even sa–

No! You are fine. You are in control. You do not need to get a hold of anyone. No one would be able to do anything anyway. And you know that it’s no big deal! You’re working yourself up for nothing! It’s all in your head. You are fine! Pull yourself together. Why are you so dramatic?! Just breathe like a normal person!

How do I calm down? I want something… comforting. Something warm.

Tea.

Tea… Tea. Do I have tea? Why didn’t I bring tea! Why didn’t I bring enough of anything?! I’m supposed to be more prepared than this!

Your backpack. Are there still some tea bags in your backpack?

Backpack…. Yes! There’s tea. Lemon.

Good. Go make it and calm down.

Calm down.

Calm down.

-Melissa

Away.

I hate not being able to sleep. I’ve had a few bad nights this week but last night was the worst. I was up for three and a half hours in the middle of the night for no good reason. I tried reading and watching my favorite movie. I even went down and ate breakfast at four thirty in the morning. I was just restless and uncomfortable. For no reason. I hate it.

I’ve been exhausted all day, which also isn’t pleasant. This is mainly because I find I am completely emotionally unstable when I’m this tired. It’s pathetic.

Now I’m just waiting until it’s dark enough outside that I can try to sleep again.

I want to go away. Somewhere far and new. Somewhere where I don’t know anyone so I don’t have to worry about anyone. And I want to not feel bad about all I leave behind. I want to not care. Throw caution to the wind. Do whatever I want.

I don’t know where I would go. Europe maybe. Find a tiny, tiny flat that cost almost nothing. Find a job that’s easy and low profile.

Maybe Washington. I’ve heard it’s gorgeous there. I feel like it would have really cold winters but I like the cold so that’s okay. I think there are lots of trees and mountains so that would be wonderful.

And I would want to have money. Lots of it. That sounds incredibly selfish but I just don’t want to have to depend on anyone or ask anyone for help or owe anyone anything. I didn’t mean to now. I just can’t help it. I don’t even know if I could have changed anything if I could redo everything.

Maybe Nevada. There are ranches out there, right? Maybe I could be a ranch hand. Or help cook for ranch hands. Then I could learn how to ride horses and I could just ride through the fields for hours. And I could learn how people from Nevada actually pronounce Nevada.

I think it’s dark enough to sleep now.

I’m just…. I’m just so tired.

-Melissa

Missing you.

I did something I probably shouldn’t have today.

In my defense, when I woke up, it didn’t take me very long to realize what day it was. If I could have just forgotten, it wouldn’t have been a problem. But I don’t forget stuff like this. So when I realized the date, reality hit me.

It has been three years since we last spoke.

It has been three years since I woke up to that horrible message. Three years since confusion and pain undid me. Three years since I was sick and literally green from crying, which I didn’t think was possible.

“Save your ammunition for somebody else; I’m all second chances.”

Three years ago, in the last conversation I had with you, you reminded me that you loved me. You assured me that everything would be okay. And I believed you. After all, you are my best friend.

You haven’t spoken to me since.

So, while I was cleaning tonight, I did something I shouldn’t have. I found the playlist you made for me and started listening. It took me back to a time when we used music as a drug. Maybe you still do.

I found myself on the floor, listening to one of the first songs you suggested for me. “I think about life and oh how it changes so fast. And oh how it’s so hard to last here waiting for something to give. I think about time. A luxury so hard to find and I just can’t figure out why I wasted it all here without you. But I’ll be fine, oh don’t you worry, because I’ll be fine. I’m in a hurry to be gone away awhile. Tell me all the things that I, I’ll be missing here in this old life, man, because I just don’t know. I just don’t know.”

Life does change pretty fast. In a day, I lost a friend who knew me and understood me better than any other friend I had ever had. Honestly, it was one of the worst days of my life. And time does seem like a luxury. Somehow, three years have past since I’ve spoken to you, and yet, you come to my mind all the time. And you were in a hurry to be gone. No explanation. You left so suddenly that sometimes I wondered it we had ever really been friends at all or if I had just lost my mind and made the whole thing up. But that doesn’t sound like me.

I just wish you would have stuck with me. I know I’m not the greatest person, but for goodness sake, I accepted every part of you! I adored your friendship. If nothing else, I’m loyal. I would have stayed beside you. I would have kept your darkest secrets. I would have helped you in any way I could. “Because I can feel your pain in my bones. I can feel your pain deep in my bones.”

But you pushed me away. You shoved me out of your life then turned your back as if you never knew me. And one of the worst things was seeing you after and still being able to read emotions you hid behind a very hard mask. Because you can’t just turn that off. I could read you like a book and I could tell when you were reading me. And I hated seeing you in pain.

And now it’s officially to the point that I’ll probably never see you again.

The last song on the playlist tells the listener to not blame themselves. “Oh don’t blame yourself. Because I know that you tried. You need someone to be, someone better than me, in your life.” But the truth is, I didn’t need someone better than you in my life. And don’t blame myself? You know me better than that.

How I wish the person I am now could go back to three years ago.

Missing you.

-Melissa

Quoted lyrics from Safteysuit, Paper Route, Andrew Belle, and Manchester Orchestra

Opposites.

I know that I’m a sinner.

You don’t need to tell me, I’ve had that part figured out for a long time. There’s some part of my make up that delights in the wrong things. There is some part of me that doesn’t turn it’s back to evil but rather embraces it. I know that I am sick and desperately need a doctor. I know that I am broken and need to be fixed.

What do you make of me?

But what if I’m also a Pharisee? I seem righteous. I seem like I have everything together. I’m filled with pride and the word ‘hypocrite’ could easily been seen among a list of my character traits. I think I know so much more than I actually do. I think I know better than others when I usually don’t.

What do you make of me then?

And what if I’m both? What if I’m both humble and prideful? What if I’m both healthy and sick?

What do you make of me then?

And what if my view if you is completely romanticized? What if I see in you only the things that I want to see? What if I hear what I want to hear? What if I hear nothing at all? What if you aren’t who I’ve painted you to be? What if, despite all the warnings and better judgement, I’ve tried to put you in a box? What if I don’t know as much about you as I think?

What do you make of me then?

-Melissa

Good.

Scared, I spilled my words out on a page and handed it to you.

You didn’t know me. And why should you? You read over it quickly, and shrugging, handed it back to me. You shook your head.

Quietly, I walked away and hid the page, never to see the light of day again.

But now, much later, I’m frustrated you didn’t give me a fair chance. Because it took something for me to give that to you. And it was my pain and my glimpse of beauty that you rejected.

You didn’t reject others. No. You accepted them again and again. They who are already so seen, so heard. They who already get to have their say.

See, you accepted the fearless and made the scared more fearful.

I sat, quietly, reading the words of others that had come to light. Some hurt me. Some confused me.

I sat, alone, in the quiet house, my feet tucked up under me, my toes finding warmth wrapped up in my skirt. I could hear nothing but the clock on the wall, the hum of the air conditioning, and the soft knock of a butterfly as it tried to break its way through the window.

I do wonder what it’s like to be great. Good is nothing. Because anyone can be good. But not everyone can be great. I have seen great people. The chairs that they have sat in, empty now, surround me. So many.

They wrote words you accepted. They wrote words that touched you, haunted you, belittled you, and upheld you. The took photos that gripped you, painted pictures that captivated you.

I’ve painted images with so much more to be desired. I’ve taken photos that couldn’t hold interest long enough. And I’ve written words that made you shake your head and whisper. Not good enough.

Because it is not enough to be good. But I don’t know if I have the ability to be better.

-Melissa