make believe

love to see you shine in the night like the diamond you are

White sheet wrapped around a naked torso as he pulls on sweatpants and gets up to make coffee. It’s three a.m. and cold outside, the crisp air biting at our chests and toes as I lean against the railing and take a drag of a cigarette. He mentions that it’s going to rain in the morning and I ask him what he fears most. We’re galaxies apart, standing across from each other on a moonlit balcony, but I see a soul in his sapphire eyes and decide to stay anyway.

Did you believe it? Did it feel real? Sometimes I marvel at the way I can spin worlds with my words.

Advertisements

fall so far

We’re back together and last night we said “I love you” and it’s all good again, but strange because this time I know it’ll end. I’ve had two fun weekends in a row, filled with activities that remind me how important it is to adventure, even in my own backyard. I bought my mom a birthday card and need to remember to mail my absentee ballot form – all anyone’s saying is how important these elections are. I might stop studying history, might sacrifice a summer of travel for an internship, though in what I don’t know. Life’s a little in limbo at the moment and fall is always so, so busy; I feel like I haven’t stopped to breathe (or write or read) since early August.

– fragments of thoughts at work during a very hectic, hurricane-filled week

withdrawals

They say mental illness isn’t a disability, but what about the hollow feeling I get when I haven’t taken my meds in a week? The shakes and the headaches, the electric shock sensations and “brain shivers” that give me a sense of vertigo, making me wonder if I’ve been drugged when really it’s the absence of drugs that leaves me only half able to function. Every movement feels like an out of body experience, like I’m on autopilot but the steering system is broken, and I can’t help but notice the tremor in my hands and thank God it’s not for a more sinister substance as I desperately twist the bottle cap open and swallow.

heaving

out of control. stomach pressing against my ribs, pushing through my skin as i speed walk to the empty bathroom; everyone’s at the game. elbows on the plastic toilet seat, knees pressed against the cold tile floor. toothbrush jutting back until it hurts, until i heave and my guts spill over the bowl, tears streaming down my face. release and a rushing sense of control in a life that feels anything but. my best friend asks me why i do it and i reply that i don’t know – it’s not exactly a lie. maybe i’m fucked up or maybe i need to feel something; maybe i’m out of control and this and exercise are the only ways to feel right. how did it all change so quickly, revert back to eighth grade in a matter of moments this summer when it all became too much and i became not enough?

fragments

cerulean skies, palm trees swaying in the wind, all leafy green and spindly, warm sand that never gets too hot and saltwater that sticks to your skin as the sunscreen melts off and swirls in the ebb and flow of the waves. grenadine and sunshine and stretching my body toward the horizon at eight a.m., the sea breeze tickling pastel verandas as lazy days spent lying on a canopy bed drift past, wooden slats making the sun and shadows dance across me to a song only they know. reading Jack Kerouac and listening to LANY and wondering where it’s all going, all these bits and fragments that make up my life, that never seem to make sense until i turn around and look back and aha, there it is. hindsight is 20/20 but you can’t blame yourself for knowing things now that you didn’t then. so i run mad but never faint, feeling my core tighten while trying not to pinch myself in the wrong places. sometimes i want a cigarette even when i don’t need one – you never need one – and i don’t yet know the difference between learning from the past and carrying baggage i should’ve left behind. how do i protect myself without hurting someone else? i think a lot now about being alone but sometimes it’s lonely and i worry i’ll cave in the end; old habits die hard. how can it matter though, when there’s a great big world out there filled with adventures and experiences and growth, when i’m twenty and still have so much more living to do. i’ve taken eighteen flights this summer and i’m already dreaming of my next one, images of a green and blue landscape, white surf and wildlife floating through my mind. there are so many places to go, so many people i haven’t met yet. don’t you know only fools are satisfied?