Tag Archives: myself

Missing you.

We make assumptions in life. And some days, you wake up and an assumption that you’d grown used to, suddenly isn’t so stable anymore.

It’s been over five years. Five years, nine months, and thirteen days if you want to be exact. Years that have changed me through heartbreak, transition, and opportunity. And I know they’ve changed you too.

Almost six years of silence.

I woke up this morning with an assumption firmly set in my mind. An assumption that told me there was no hope. An assumption that promised I would never again hear your voice or your laugh, I would never again see your face, I would never again have your friendship.

I woke up this morning to a very subtle change. And I could feel, can feel, it reaching for me. I can feel it’s thin, cold fingers, I can feel the brittle nails, wrapping slowly around my heart. This monster called ‘hope.’ Begging me to give in.

But I know hope. And hope is not to be trusted.

Didn’t you teach me that?

It was probably a mistake. It probably meant nothing to you. You probably thought I wouldn’t notice. You probably didn’t give it any thought at all. You probably didn’t mean to cause my assumptions to waiver.

Five years, nine months, thirteen days, and I’m still…

Missing you.





You had me at hello


I can see the moment

Perfectly held

Perfectly preserved


To stay indefinately

Oh, honest?

Much longer

But he, in that image,

Ceases to be

And me, in that image,

Long gone, my dear

You have become merely a whisper

Of worry once held

Laughter now is laced with freedom

Once, it was with longing


But yesterday is more distant

Today is tomorrow

Once is a memory

And once was enough


Just a whisper

Not heard, but seen

I embrace anxiety like an old friend

Warm and inviting

Your pain filling my chest

Spreading through each vein

Until every bit of me is shaking

You ask for words

I have none

Nothing to ease this moment

Nothing to stop your pain

Or this shaking

My breath soon leaves me

Unbearable worry to blame

I refuse to be consumed.

So I fight for breath

I fight for words

I’ll fight for you

Your pain as an effective fuel

Helpless in reality

Nothing to offer but presense

Nothing to offer but prayer

(And I’ve heard prayer moves mountains)


I’m so f***ing invincible

Because I have to be

Powerful, able

I can’t be overcome

Strong, I stand firm


Able to lift and then

Carry along the weight

Of the world

Without breaking

I don’t even come close

Nothing can hurt me

Nothing can touch me

I’m unreachable

I am quite aware

I’m not fooling you

I’m probably not fooling


But let me fool myself

Let me believe I can’t be broken

The hope is when hurt

Surrounds me on every side

I won’t feel it when it hits



I have been having a lot of problems with my feet lately. We’re not going to get into it right now, but basically standing and walking have become extremely difficult at times and it’s rather unfortunate.

The class it is most annoying in is choir because we are expected to stand most, if not all, of the time, and my choir director is a real stickler. Despite that, I think they’ve realized I really can’t stand, especially after I came with a doctors note because I couldn’t walk to class.

The other day, we were recording and, when we record, we really don’t sit the entire time. There aren’t even chairs for us to do so. As I limped into the room, I worried and wondered over what I was going to do. I could stand the entire time but that meant I would, without a doubt, be in an extreme amount of pain later. I didn’t know what to do.

When I found my spot in the midst of everyone, the boy beside me had gotten a chair for me. No one had told him to. He had seen me come in and had gotten a chair.

The next day I came into choir, everyone was doing back rubs as we always do at the beginning of a rehearsal. Not able to stand and join in the line, I found my seat. The same boy who had gotten me a chair saw as I sat down and immediately broke from the line and came to sit behind me and massage my shoulders.

Tears welled in my eyes as I felt his presence behind me. I cannot express what it means to me that he showed me such kindness when there was no need.

That’s the thing: there was no need for him to do these things because I am fully capable of taking care of myself. I am extremely independent and I don’t need anyone to care for me. I can make it just fine on my own. I’m actually kind of good at it.

But he never asked if he could care for me. He just…did it.

You see, most of the time, I don’t let people care for me. Even when they try or they want to, I push them away. Maybe not in an obvious way or in a mean way, I just take care of myself and I don’t show that I need to be taken care of. Because I don’t.

But do I?

If I don’t need to be cared for, why do I tear up every time he goes out of his way to care for me in the sweet, simple ways he does?

I don’t know. I don’t know how to reconcile the fact that I don’t need people and yet I do. I don’t need to be cared for and yet I long for it, and yet I appreciate it more than I could possibly say. I just don’t know.

I do know I adore those that are sweet to me and I am incredibly grateful to them.