wordswitharielle

[wordswitharielle]

Screaming in silence. Love pouring out of my fingertips because he wont answer my call. How did I become this person? Sick to my stomach and shaking because I can’t eat. I’m always forced to rediscover myself because I still haven’t learned I can’t undo the past. I can’t take away the hurtful things I’ve done no matter how much love I have to give. All i have ever known is to expect the worst out of people so I adapted to protect myself, never stopping to think you might be exactly who I need. I have no past to compare you to, I only had dreams of building a future. And then I so deservingly had nothing. 

[wordswitharielle]

The only love I have left is the word tattooed on my wrist where I trace the delicate blue lines of my veins with the blade that separates me from where I want to be. You gave me heaven on Earth and if I can’t love you then there is no place left for me in this world. 

[wordswitharielle]

Have you ever given so much of yourself to someone only to discover they weren’t even real? Have I gone mad here? Where did the last five years of my life go?

In the last five years I fell in love, got my heart broken more times than I can count all while dancing with the devil. The liquid courage only lasted until it became liquid rage to silence my sadness. A bottle to drown out the loneliness because if I can’t feel anything, nothing can hurt me. It’s crazy to me that after all this time I never knew how lonely I actually was until you were just a memory in the distant past. I came to realize that the lonely I felt wasn’t something wrong with me, it was everything that was wrong with you. I had nothing left to love myself with because I dedicated my whole heart to loving you for nothing in return. Looking back I see why your words were never able to comfort me, you can’t truly find comfort in a hallmark card and that’s all your lies were. Just pretty little lies on your tender lips. You think its the thought that counts but you never thought about anyone other than yourself. Being loved is easy, but loving takes effort; an effort that requires compromise, honesty, and is unconditional. Unconditional love, a term so commonly spoken, so often abused. My unconditional love, loved you when you even when you were your most unlovable. My unconditional love, loved you beyond betrayal because I thought that’s what it meant to be in love. 

Five years of self destruction, five years of energy wasted. Five years to find out the only person who deserves my love is myself. Five years to turn my heart to stone and my mind to glass. Everything I thought I knew shattered, all that I loved had left. It’s been a few months since I let you walk away without chasing you down and the only thing I have felt is freedom. I am better without you.

[wordswitharielle]

Fighting the urge to slit my wrists or put my fists through the wall, how could I be so stupid to fall in love. Tell me what you feel. Are you happy now? Was any of it even real?

[wordswitharielle]

Today’s the day I lay my love to rest knowing that I tried my best.

Sometimes your best isn’t someone else’s good enough and that’s a hard fact to accept.

In the end my heart is what I need to protect.

I don’t regret loving you because I realized I have so much more to give.

And giving is just what I’m going to do.

Give myself all the time I gave to you.

Dream as big as all those nights I slept with you.

Believe in me all the ways I believed in you.

Trust myself more than all those times I clung to you.

Pick myself up more than all those times I reached out for your hand.

Give myself all the love I gave to you, and more.

[wordswitharielle]

From the time I was a teenager I’d light a room full of candles writing for hours as the words poured out of my fingertips, smoke billowing from my lips. Now with those same wine stained lips blowing oh’s to the Lofi beats, I let the self medicating continue. I’ve never felt more beautiful in my own emotions as I do right now. No one can take this from me.

[wordswitharielle]

Some people say you never really know what you have until its gone or that everything you ever wanted was sitting right in front of you. I guess part of that is true, but for me it was a little different. I couldn’t see anything in front of me because all I could see was you. I didn’t even have you and I rehearsed every word as if you were. Each day I molded myself into what I thought you believed I was. I let myself be manipulated by the fantasy I had of us. All I wanted was you and I didn’t really even have you. Walking away with your back turned to me, for months I looked over my shoulder wondering if you were chasing after me. I had been so used to your whispers like a ghost telling me what to feel I never stopped to see if anything else was worth feeling. I still look back, but less everyday. I spend more time looking at what’s right in front of me, learning what my life is as just me.

[wordswitharielle]

He was the closest I’d felt home in another person in a long time. He wrapped his arms around me and my head rested on his guarded beating heart. My leg began to shake as I looked up to kiss him, embarrassed, I pulled away. I couldn’t let him know he had this kind of power over me. I couldn’t let him know I was vulnerable. I looked around the apartment, books in all the nooks, journals and all his quirks. I knew he’d get me. A man who was fond of words was a man I knew I wouldn’t have to explain much to. We aren’t the same and maybe that would be the difference this time.

[wordswitharielle]

Lately I’ve been dreaming in color vividly. It’s like my spirit is projected into another dimension yet somehow my mind always finds you there. Night after night I lay my head down praying for a break from this heartache you left me with. Every morning that follows my sleepy pillow talks with God I wake to remember the night with you dancing through my dreams. But please don’t flatter yourself, these aren’t the kinds of dances where you embrace me and pull me closer with the base bellowing around us. Those days are over and now that I think about it, were those times even real? Did they mean anything to you or was I just something to fill your time and void the loneliness temporarily. A convenience who loved to dance with my arms wrapped around you to the melody of your laugh in between my lips pressed against yours. I made you so much of who I was and the life I thought we would have only to discover I was such a minor detail in yours. Haven’t you taken enough from me? Ironic how you used me to fill your void of loneliness and at the end of this I’m the one who ends up alone. Our first sleep no more I made you promise not to leave me and never wander too far because I was afraid of what I might find without you. Funny how life has a way of foreshadowing as if this life I live is just a story someone else wrote and I’m just a character in it. Little did I know that years later I’d be bargaining with myself to sleep no more, afraid of what I’ll find when I close my eyes now that you’ve left me. 

[wordswitharielle]

Staring at a closet full of clothes with a suitcase waiting to be filled and realizing that suitcase resembles my life pretty accurately. Surrounded by a hundred different things waiting for one of them to fill the emptiness within me. I said it out loud again, I feel everything and nothing at all. “I know it hurts right now, we’ll up the dose and see how you feel in a few weeks.” 

What if I’m not someone who can be fixed. What if these feelings never subside. 

Medicated.

Two in the morning, two at night, one as needed.

Numb.

Restless.

Drown it all out.

They either look at me with pity or admiration. Such a young life to have endured so much tragedy. 

“Poor thing.” 

“You’re so strong.”

“I feel so bad for you.”

“You’re so resilient.”

There's no use telling me. Maybe I am all of those things or maybe I am nothing.

Now I’m laying on the floor in that same closet staring at the ceiling, telling myself to let go. Watching my emotions spinning around above me like the night sky and just out of reach. I can see all of them the darker it gets and as soon as I think I’ve got a hold of one I look to my hand and the stardust breezes through my fingers. Teasing me, “not this time, you still have so much more to feel, we’re not ready to be laid to rest.”

Drown them out. Dim the lights. 

“You’re no different than the addiction that took her from you.”

There is no depth of love great enough to conquer this temptation. 

Taking my hand and leading me down the path to emptiness...feeling everything and nothing at once.

There is no balance, there is no devil to be vanquished. 

There is only me. 

[wordswitharielle]

You’re doing everything you can you told me but you’ve done nothing at all.  

Seven words spoken.

“I don’t love you, I used you.”

Seven words to satisfy the hate raging in her heart. 

Seven words to keep the pain fresh. 

Seven words to remind me you would always go home to her. 

You always told me you didn’t believe in luck and coincidences so there must be no connection to lucky number 7.

Seven words to test my faith. 

Seven words to challenge my strength. 

Seven words to carry me to heaven. 

[wordswitharielle]

Type...delete....retype. Delete. Retype. Delete. Pour a glass of wine. 

I’m not ready to write those words. Not ready to open up that part of me for the world to see. Self medicate. It doesn’t exist if you don’t think about it. 

[wordswitharielle]

They used to tell me “you can be anything you want to be.” I never knew what that was though. Somewhere in my intricate child mind I thought that meant that being me wasn’t enough. “You can be anything you want to be...” but what if I just want to be me? What if I am more than a title, a profession, any one thing you can claim to be. I didn’t understand why I had to pick something to be when I was content with being me. Curious, adventurous, and a little sensitive surrounded by 20 other little girls who aspired to be doctors, lawyers, astronauts or the first female president. In second grade we had to decide what we wanted to be and why to present to the class. I sat there staring at my blank page of paper wracking my brain. As everyone around me bragged about what they were going to do I wondered how they knew. I brainstormed ideas of all the things I was good at and to be honest I found that I fell short of the qualifications I thought it took to be any of those things they picked. I began to wonder if there was anything I was good at. My teacher came over and asked me why I hadn’t started working on anything. I told her that I didn’t know, I was panicking. She looked at me and said well there has to SOMETHING you want to be when you grow up. I looked at her blankly and suddenly I felt the inevitable ticking clock of life for the first time. Grow up? But that’s so far away I thought. I didn’t know that I had to spend my childhood deciding what kind of adult I wanted to be. The only thing that came to mind was an artist. She asked why and I told her that it was something I loved doing and that I found Vincent VanGogh fascinating. To prove my admiration for him I told her how he had cut off his own ear. He was brilliant and mad, how could I not find him interesting. My teacher looked at me horrified that amongst her second grade class of little girls wanting to take over the predominantly male run work force of America there was one lone child who aspired to be as unstable as an artist. She told me to pick something else. So I picked the President, because that’s what a majority of the class picked. I stole ideas from all of them on why I would want to be the president and turned it into a story. I never told my teacher that I completed my assignment based on a fictional character named “I” or sometimes “Me,” but she never asked. From that point forward I searched for anything that would give me the answer as to what I wanted to be. Years of searching and here I am, still writing stories, still making art without a single clue as to what I’m supposed to be when I grow up.

[wordswitharielle]

Look me in the face and tell me that I never meant anything to you. Tell me all the things you told her about me until you actually believe them and then say it again. It’s easy to believe in something when you’re scared but its what you believe in when you have everything in nothing that matters. You never thought loving me would come so easily in the hardest moments of your life but I know when you close your eyes and those lies leave your lips its me you’re thinking of. 

[wordswitharielle]

Just write it all out, you’ll feel better I promised myself as I poured my second glass of wine. I’m always quick to break my own promises though. Drinking myself into a self-induced depression to clear my conscience. They tell me I can’t find peace until I learn to forgive myself. The problem is I’ve always kind of enjoyed the darkness within me. The darkness within me is so much of who I am. From the time I was a child this darkness burned bright. I chose to take it and make art with it but they told me an artist would never make it. Especially an art that came from somewhere so dark. So I bottled it up and wrote it out on pages no one would ever see. 

[wordswitharielle]

I got so fucking high I couldn’t feel my feet. I floated over to the couch and fell through time and space before my head hit the pillow. The ceiling spun as my mind danced freely. I’m laughing hysterically, what a fucking joke. 

[wordswitharielle]

“Would you die for me?...That’s too easy, would you live for me?” 

I used to think that dying would be the hard part. You seemed so sure that this life was all there is. No God, no heaven, no afterlife. What if you were right? I never wanted to miss a moment with you and if this life was all we had then i’d take what I could get. All the moments wouldn’t be enough if it didn't mean an eternity with you. I didn’t want to die if it meant our moments together would come to an end. What would all of this have been for? But now living is the hard part. It doesn’t make sense. I gave you all that I had to give. I was living for you. I was alive to feel all the heartache, all the lonely nights you left me, and all mornings you kissed me goodbye. As if the sacrifices I made would somehow prove just how alive i’d let you make me feel. I began to believe that misery really does loves company, and that my home was where you held my heart in your hands. The thing I came to learn though was that you never lived for me, I was just a small part of life. I wasn’t a purpose, a hope or a dream. I was company and you were misery.