ink tests

I’m one of those people that can’t let go. If I’ve had fun with you once, I will text you on your birthday for at least the next five years. If we were friends in elementary school and haven’t talked since, I guarantee I still know your mom’s name and your favorite food. My crushes never go away, they just fade. I still tell stories about great times with people I haven’t seen in years. If you turn down my offer to get drinks and catch up ten times, I promise I will still ask an 11th time. If we fight and you block me, I will find a way to check in on you anyway to make sure you’re okay. So if I give up on you, just know that you damn well deserved it.

“Trust your gut.” But I can’t. I can’t trust myself in any manner, because today I might not be who I really am, whoever that is. What if this is a manic whim that will pass in the morning. What if when I kiss him I’m just using him as another brick wall to slam my body against. What if my gut says slam the accelerator, don’t bother trying, shoot yourself in the foot. What if I get fear for no reason, anxiety in the sixth floor bathroom, what if my gut says stay home but my heart says go. What if my gut says check the lock again, and again, and again, and again, and, what if my gut says seven is good but did you count it right. what if my gut says leave the party nobody wants you here, what if my gut says why did you leave now everybody thinks you’re weird. What if I get a bad feeling about everyone because one person once opened me up and sewed all their bad into my pockets, what if I go with my gut and overshare a lot and leave awkward silences that stretch in wet muslin bandages over pity-frowns, what if my gut says give in and my gut says I’m worth nothing and my gut says give up. What if you’re right and I’ve been ignoring signs that keep coming and I belong in a box somewhere, un-becoming.

My mom asks me what I want. Where I want to be. I wish I knew how to want things. I wish I had one feeling I knew wasn’t just a rush or a spiral or a warning sign. Something I knew was pure. Something actually mine.

2

I love playing with my overdramatic friend.
Having a pocket lucio is not the same as a mercy or an ana…

Why is school the only part of my life you care about?
Why do you ask me about my test scores but not about my feelings?
Why do you tell your friends how you’re proud of my grades,
but not my kind heart or creative mind?
The fact that the first thing you ask me at dinner is
how my finals are going is so sickening
I almost stopped eating right then and there.
The night those college letters came,
you happily announced my PSAT scores to my father
before suggesting I go study some more,
then changing your mind and telling me to read
all the letters out loud to the family instead.
I still can’t believe that happened.
The whole thing was insane,
and I was the only one who could see that.
I’m more than a number.
I’m not just a bit of small talk you can
brag about to your friends.
You couldn’t hear the malice in my voice
as I read those letters.
You couldn’t tell I hated every syllable
printed on that crisp white paper.
All you can see are the numbers on my report card,
and those are mattering less and less to me every day.
—  sincerely, your straight A daughter // c.r.h.
They say that if you love something, let it go; it’ll come back if it ever loved you. I used to not believe that. I used to think that if someone loved you, they’d make every effort to stay. I just didn’t realize that even through all the efforts, people still sometimes fail. I didn’t realize that sometimes people leave unwillingly. I didn’t realize that sometimes someone can’t help if they are forced to leave, regardless of all the effort put into staying. But that’s changed now. I realized that if someone ever really did matter, they’ll find a way to be back into your life. Maybe the timing was wrong. Maybe life just needed to mature the both of you. Maybe life just needed to teach you how to act. And maybe, maybe my life knew it was you. I just had to mature up and know how to love you the way you deserve to be loved.
—  S/W// If you really loved me