i’ve forgotten peices of myself that i somehow always remember right before i fall asleep, telling myself i’ll remember in the morning, yet i wake up with the ghost of the memory, the significance staying to haunt me but the content fleeing from my grasp. i run, hours of time i spend wrestling with my mind trying to win, trying beat my heart till it is bloody and blue and i can stop running, i can stand still and not feel the need to escape the cage i’ve concocted in my head. it seems i’ve forgotten all the things i longed to never forget, feelings, faces, faith, things that made me stop and say, “if i died right now, i would be happy” and all that i can remember some days is everything that made me want to die, things that left no room for shades and rays of happiness to shine in the clouds of depression that hung over my head, no flowers have ever bloomed in those days and i’ve begun to pretend they happened to someone else, that those memories do not belong to me, that i am not the owner, but every time i try and leave them behind, i am tapped on the shoulder and someone asks me, something reminds me, that they are mine, they are mine and they’ve been shackled to me since the day they happened and i cannot give them to anyone, they are my weight to carry, i cannot pretend they aren’t mine, they cannot be in the lost and found box because they know who their owner is and right where i am, they follow me. i’ve begun to drink in the daytime, smoke as soon as the sunsets at 5 pm, because i long to forget those things, i long to have them fade away as the high seeps in, where i can be carefree and weightless once again. i’ve begun to worry about this little habit, but i justify it, what is a drink at 3 pm on wednesday or 3 pm on sunday if it doesn’t hurt anyone? and so no one is around to stop me or say anything so this solitude, or is it loneliness? i can’t say for sure i know the difference, all i know is i have been unchaperoned for most my life and i do not know what it must be like to not say i’m on my own, and so this emptiness around me, call it what you may, serves me in this way - i don’t have to stop pouring and i don’t have to call it what it is, another way i am escaping myself, another way i am forgetting who i am in order to erase the ghosts that i cannot bear to keep company. i haven’t been myself in a while, but i can’t tell you who i am, i’ve forgotten in all these layers i’ve shed for the sake of survival. and i reread all of these lines, flowing from my mind and i want to delete it all, who am i to be so dramatic, to pity myself? this is life, it is pathetic the way i view myself, some victim? life is unkind to everyone, i am not special. but i think that this is something i can allow myself, some type of outlet that no one will ever see because i can and i want to and so i will. the same justification for the alcohol in my closet buried under my laundry.
My thoughts have begun to unravel in my mind and, I won’t lie, I’ve begun to shut off my feelings. My emotions being buried as if I am 16 years old again and to not feel is better than to feel again. I am overworking myself and I am exhausted, and I will not let my heart have any other purpose but to help me breathe, to send oxygen to my brain to help me memorize, to learn so one day I won’t have to fear. There is so much I fear, but I cannot feel the fear, there is no room for it in my mind.
-n.c. // I don’t want to open that door so you will never know
“El ‘nosotros’ ya terminó hace tiempo, ¿por qué aún no te supero?”
““Kiss me like you don’t need air. Hold me like you can’t let go. Love me like you’d die without me.” - Sarah Doughty”
—
n.c. // i thought of you today
Te pienso.
Bonita energía a ti.
Weird People (via thoughtkick)
Los días son largos
Las horas pasan lento
Y la batería ya no se acaba.
Cuando me despierto lo primero que hago ya no es mirar el celular
Solo me quedo ahí, un rato, respirando y sin ganas de mucho.
Se siente tu ausencia
Y tal vez, solo tal vez, te extraño más de lo que debería.
-n.c. // i didn’t realize how hurt i was until i was angry
-n.c. // it feels like an invitation to be hurt
parte de mi proceso de aprendizaje fue darme cuanta de que yo tmb te lastime.
Y es importante para mi reconocerlo por qué me responsabilizo de lo que prometí no hacer.
Y me disculpo por ello, aprendo de ello y crezco a partir de ello.
¿te fuiste? ¿me fui?
No se,
pero me aclaraste que no tienes intenciones de volver.
Y por mi bien, yo también espero que no vuelvas.
Sé que me quisiste,
sé que me quisiste con toda el alma,
y aún así, tesoro mío,
te fuiste con él,
aunque me querías,
y aunque te quería.
Sabes que te quise,
sabes que te quise con toda el alma,
y aún así, mi niña,
tuve que dejarte ir,
aunque te quería,
y aunque me querías.
“Venías y te ibas, como si recordaras que olvidabas algo y después notaras que ya no era necesario llevarlo.”
— Lya.
“Ya no quiero ser yo quien siempre se quede cuando alguien se va.”
— Lya.
También duele cortar amistades, decir adiós a quien un día te vio llorar y reír a carcajadas, se siente un vacío enorme alejarse de quien más confiabas, pero, creo firmemente que no es justo quedarse donde la traición es el único paisaje.
-n.c. // it kills me but i cannot stay in the past