Sometimes Prayers are Answered

Sitting shotgun, I prayed for the better of two evils while you steeled yourself for the worst.

Sitting shotgun, we sat in silence and preoccupied our minds with drastically different thoughts. I hoped and prayed to be home in bed within the hour, while you wondered about how I would get home at all.

Everyone believes they are invincible, until the moment they realize that is a lie. We all need that moment, and the earlier we experience it, the better. Before tonight, I believed that everyone needed their own moment. That, in order to learn, you had to experience fear firsthand. Tonight, I learned that in some cases, someone else's fear is good enough. It works well enough.

Sitting shotgun, I knew that I would never have to experience what you went through in order to learn your lesson. Every once in a while, people are allowed to have shared experiences and learn the same lesson simultaneously.

Every once in a while, the powers that be answer prayers you did not even know you had. Every once in a while, you get the kick in the teeth that you needed without any of the pain.

Tall, Dark, and Handsome

Regardless of how much attention you pay him throughout the night,
if, at the end, you are getting into a car with tall, dark, and handsome
and it is not him,
you have succeeded.
Any misgivings should fly out the window.
Because even if nothing happened with tall,
dark,
and handsome,

He does not have to know.
He assumes the worst
which is the best.

The Universe Doesn't Mind Fucking You Over

I am beginning to think that alone is okay, even if it is forever. But the idea of “alone” is ambiguous and can occur when surrounded, or even in those moments right before sleep.

We do not all think of “alone” in the same way.

The “alone” that I am slowly becoming okay with is the romantic type. Of never finding him, of him never finding me. Some are not made for love, while some are; but never get to have it. Some days I think because I want it so much, it will not happen.

I have over twenty years of proof to show me that you do not always get what you want, or what you believe you deserve. I have years of proof to show me that the universe likes to fuck you over like that.

Are We Friends?

Evaluating relationships leads to startling discoveries. Mostly, I learn about the depths of myself that I (unsuccessfully) tried to hide, or the quirks that I can no longer hide from. Questioning leads to self-discovery which leads to actualization and betterment.

When I question my relationships, I grow. Regardless of whether the problem is with someone else or myself, I always find something in me to confront, to work on, to change. When I question my relationships, I am doing something right because in the end, I grow from it.

Wondering is not for naught.

Every time I feel taken aback is important to note, every furrowed brow means something. I wouldn’t create problems for myself if it wasn’t warranted. I wouldn’t question a friendship if I didn’t feel like both parties were somehow losing out. At this point, I don’t want to surround myself with just anyone. I want everyone around me to be meaningful, just like I want to be meaningful to everyone around me.

I am old enough to know that questioning something doesn’t mean it is automatically bad and I am young enough to know that questioning doesn’t mean everything is okay.

Bicycles are built for two

His and Hers

Skull Corduroy

Single Versus Double

i always imagined i would feel different
that i would feel a connection
something irrevocable
i thought i would feel something
but that's not how things turned out
while i felt comfortable
while i laughed
while i talked and made no sense
while i left early
so as to save my grace
i didn't feel different
in the end
i'm still me

I'm too young to feel so tired
so jaded
my eyes shouldn't strain to stay open
and I shouldn't already be addicted to caffeine.
I'm the age of sleepless nights
of staying out late
of having nights blend into mornings
into afternoons
into sunsets.
I'm too young to feel so old.

Silence is a noise and it's deafening when you weren't alone before.

i still listen to your mixes, the ones you made and sent to me from across the globe. the ones you made when we still made each other smile. it's been over a year now and the thought of you only brings the corners of my lips up just a little bit now. you came back, you're not on the other side of the world, but still, all i have left are old songs that you hand-picked because they reminded you of me: "it's a beautiful world," "you really got a hold on me," "dark come soon." dark came soon. dark flitted away. they're just songs to me now.

like a guardian angel
who tries to catch the falling
but is thin as air
they fall through the mist
an unwanted angel
can't catch the fallen
who don't want to be caught

everyone can be saved
not everyone wants to be
sometimes peace is found at the end
at the bottom
when it's over
to some, the hardest part
is what everyone else considers
everday
what everyone else thinks of as
typical

guardians can only protect
those who want to be guarded
otherwise, every map to safety
is colored over
and every save haven
is thwarted
guardian angels hold out their hands
but sometimes
some people
just don't want to reach out

the most important point in my life was when i realized there was no point. i didn't see an overarching goal for life, no end-all, be-all moment to work towards; but what i did see was that life was made up of a bunch of little moments strung together. one moment, one glorious moment, followed by another. and another, and another, until you hit a moment that makes you sick. a moment so rock bottom, you feel physically ill and never want to get out of bed. you just dream dreams of never stepping foot on solid ground again. you dream of just wasting away the rest of your days under the covers because you can't see a point. you live, you work, you die. the golden years passed you by when you weren't noticing and now all you see is a downward spiral. all your fun has been had, all the good has been exhausted. just to lay in bed forever would be better than going outside, better than getting old and forgetting everyone while you slowly fall apart. but to stay in bed forever is to never see another glorious moment.

the most important moment in my life was when i realized i had it all wrong, that i'm not trying to work towards one moment that will magically manifest itself years down the road. the end will come and i will be gone and what i should be working for is making sure i've smiled before then.

what happens when you look down, and your hands aren't your hands? look nothing like you remember they used to? is it an issue with my eyes? can they not see like they used to? so used to dilated pupils searching in the dark. or are my hands changing, my skin darkening without the sun. when i look down, i don't recognize myself. these hands i use everyday for everything, they're foreign. in a lineup, i wouldn't be able to pick them out, save the nail lacquer.

i don't want to write about it
because i don't want to remember it.
the red eyes and stuffy nose,
the excruciating thoughts
of ending it all
having you cry
you make me cry so much
i'm sure you never imagined it would turn out this way
that i would turn out this way
but i did and it's not your fault
i don't blame you for the things i've done
the things that have happened
but i blame you for making me feel pathetic
and worthless
because of it all
that you do have control over
that is your fault
i don't want to write about it.

sore arms
four arms
bruised legs
headaches
hugging toilets
embarrassed
too drunk
to feel
embarrassed
four days
alcohol abuse
short skirts
sidelong glances
busy bars
thank God
the past
repeats
the past
same as always
long visit
last visit
embarrassed
too drunk
to realize
no one realized
everyone was too drunk
i blended in
the photographs
never show
the entire picture

i wear sweaters in summer
because the warmth passes through me
as if i'm a ghost
taking up no space.
perpetually chilled
i huddle into myself
and place myself into the sun's rays
to no avail.
to no raise in my temperature.
ghosts feel nothing
touch nothing
leave nothing
behind.
i am not a ghost
but i can't get warm.
i feel warmth
but can't retain it.
i wear sweaters
so i don't freeze
in the depth of summer.

stay awake at night and watch the stars. they ebb and flow like our oceans only we can barely notice that with our eyes. we barely notice a lot of things where those stars are concerned. by the time we see them, they've exploded and died. what we see is the memory of them. in memoriam in the sky.
the skies tell a story we only ever pay attention to during the day. we watch the clouds form pictures and we watch planes with wistful eyes - daytime's shooting star. the sun blazes and we take notice, but the moon glows and we rest.
maybe the moon is okay with simply guiding our dreams, casting soft glows as we slumber, but i want to do it justice. it lights up the nights, we should at least explore the world in its shades of grey. at least delve around inside what night has to offer before leaving. can life even be a life if time's never spent outside in the dark? dancing on sidewalks under the black summer sky, feeling night's breeze - different from day's - dance on your skin. stay awake at night because life wasn't meant to be spent asleep half the time.

if pangaea never broke,
we'd never be too far from one another.
the shortest distance
between two people
would be whichever streets
they chose to walk.
instead of datelines
we'd cross timelines
our points intersecting,
merging and melding.
planes would be unnecessary,
for the country could be
would be
criss-crossed with train tracks
and highways.
if pangaea never broke
there'd be no water separating us anymore.
my land would be your land.
our languages would only be
a few dialects apart
meaning our native tongues
would make sense to one another.
we'd make sense to one another.
there's something nonsensical
about the way we are,
feeling as though a body of water
is enough to separate us all.
is enough to make us believe
that our wants and desires aren't the same.

if pangaea never broke
we'd see ourselves as the solitary race
we are.
we wouldn't think of it as
us and them.
but us. just us.
we'd never be too far from each other,
so we'd see the effects of our actions sooner.
like a wave across the continent.
if our countries were connected
our people would be connected
and even though we're all connected
right now
anyway
no one sees it that way
but they would
if pangaea never broke.