There’s one too many things that keep you walking backwards your whole life. Sure, you can move forward, but you’re always looking back; memories you can’t let go, people you just won’t let go. Should you be looking at your destination? Or simply take each step with caution. Later, you will realize that being hesitant is a waste of time, walk with a sharpie appeal; you can’t erase sharpie. Every step you take you realize you’re just climbing a ladder trying to figure out where the hell you’re going or if you should really be walking further down the road. You realized that the start of this destination felt so safe and right. You go back to the same habit and miss the people that you left behind. You stop in the middle of your path and try to walk back to this point of yours and their life. Realizing whatever’s there isn’t there anymore. It’s like coming home to nothing. You’re walking down a good road with a nice pace, then realize you’re going in a circle, but every loop you take is a different view because things change. You aren’t always the same person the next time you cross that tree, hell, the tree isn’t even the same. That’s just about how everything’s going to be. Everything you’ve thought is just a thought you once had, and everything you’ve felt is nothing but you. It all comes down to what’s still there, and for the things that aren’t but once was, is somewhere else. Would it really be worth running to what you left still lingered inside, but walked away from? Running to find out what made the most of you is merely running home to nothing. What made you who you are today doesn’t mean you made them what they are. Like saying you could be a friend of one, doesn’t mean they’re a friend of yours. So, now we’re left with one heart where there once was two; nowhere to go, and nobody to come home to.

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I’m not going to lie or anything but in all honesty it bothers me to see you happy. I feel like this whole time ive been living you have attached yourself like a leech to my body. While I enjoy myself and put myself first you slowly suck the happiness out of me. I hear people tell me “ don’t let him effect you like that, why do you let him control you?”. Wow, you really fucking think I chose this? You really think I WANT to feel like this? Cause if you do, you’re fucking wrong. Back to the point, like I’m jealous that youre able to move on, im upset that it seems so easy to you. While I struggle to go through the say without thinking about you. Hoping. Hope is probably one of the worst combinations you can have with the after effects of a breakup. I see you having the time of your life and it kills me, knowing that I am not enjoying these with you. There is a great difference between accepting and understanding. I understand that we are over, but accepting it is much harder than just saying “ I accept this”. You have to feel it in your heart that you acknowledge what is happening. This may sound really selfish, but I want to be happy first. I cant let you keep having the upper hand.  Breaking up with me, you already accepted what was happening, while I was blind-sided. I need to either get to that 110% alone or find someone before you do. I cant imagine myself watching you go on with your life and having the upper hand. On the same note, lately ive been having the urge to talk to you. I don’t know what id even gain out of it, but I was hoping it would put me at rest. Really hearing you tell me you are disgusted by me. I just want to hear you say how happy you were about your decision. Cause honestly, I still have that hope, deep down. I don’t want it, I honestly don’t, I wouldn’t wish this feeling onto my worst enemy. What sucks even more is that you know youre gunna get over this and look back and realize how stupid this was. But my personality, im very impatient. I cant wait, and one thing about me is that I always get what I want. And for once what I want doesn’t want me back, and I cant do anything about that. So this is my “woe is me”. I just want to let everyone know that if you care about someone and you want to be more than friends… do it, take the opportunity. Because if you’re holding back with whole time, may it be a week a month, a year. Imagine if you said it earlier you would have spent all that time happy with them. What I want to put forward is the feeling of happiness. If this person makes you happy, than go for it, tell them how much you care about them. Why? Cause life is short and youre still young, you can take a lot more pain than you expect and honestly seize, what makes you happy. Put away your pride, and your dignity, if they make you happy, like REALLY happy. Go for it. Honestly, I think its worth it, putting everything on the line because this person means that much to you. 

Just a simple thought, a notion, if you will. There is a saying which states that “you never know what you’ve got until it’s gone,” and often that saying is associated with death, whether it be that of a loved one or of an acquaintance. Like the multitude of realists that I associate with, I do disagree. I believe, disregarding the exception, that everyone knows what they have, but they never imagined it would be gone at that moment in time. As realists, we are well aware of consequences, that one may experience death at any moment, yet one never wants to acknowledge the possibility of it at the present time, mostly because we always feel that it is unlikely or improbable. Once this person is gone, we regret not saying those few words of appreciation toward them before their times of passing and we begin to fantasize about the obligation to say these words if, through a miracle, the time arose in which this person were to come back. That may have been the logic used when eulogies were created. Many will suggest that we declare our appreciation for someone at all times or, at the least, imply the appreciation every day. But let us be honest in the name of brevity. Primarily, it is strange to proclaim one’s appreciation for another directly to them on a usual basis; it simply is. Additionally, the validity, although with the potential cogency in its entirety, would soon portray its opposite. The appreciation by the appreciated would eventually dissipate into a mere cycle of words rearranged; appreciation would no longer be effective and any positivity that it had the possibility to evoke would lose its “sabor.” What is our solution to the subduing pressure to make others feel appreciated, so that our contentment would be abundant if they were to die at any moment?

When rain falls, we call it precipitation. And it falls without a moment’s hesitation, as if it had the obligation. Yet I stay stationary as I carry the burdens of my life. When hurting, I should strive to bury the past and cremate it to its last ash. Instead, I’m lost within my head with no limbs to trace the path of the maze. I don’t move. I don’t wander. In this place I ponder the depths in significance with each right and left. And I’m left without a map of this maze, this uncharted land. Once again, with no limbs, I can’t see the back of my hand to relate it to how clueless I am about where I stand. And the sands of time drop like the rain and move on, independent of the insane wo man. I’m trapped on a secluded island and I need a ride out to the mainland. My message in a bottle is written in a language that cannot be interpreted because it’s written in anguish. Drifting in waves in a raft, I’m no craftsman. I’m just a castaway with a reality check to cash in. Somebody find me an ATM, because at the moment I’m just drifting in the ocean and hoping to find a helicopter with an extensive rope to real me in. I’m really in this abyss of a storm. I’m alone. People tire of other people but I wish to conform. I wish to be bothered by a hypocritical father and smothered by a nagging mother, because I’d take the moment into my hands knowing there may not be another. And that’s when my seclusion made me realize that, through my real eyes, I could see the real lies and be the girl that relies on herself to be her own obligation. I call it self motivation. So I’ll take this pencil out to stencil out and trace the whereabouts from where I am to where I can exit this maze. The walls surrounding me are testing my faith. I won’t make them wait. So I stood up, put my hood up, and I walked. I walked down the path of my past just to fall. Sometimes when you get up, you fall. But I wouldn’t have made it out if I didn’t get up at all.