A real woman can do it all on her own. A real man, won't let her.

Writing can be theraputic. And Confusing. But thats okay.

Its scary to think about loving someone other than the someone you've always loved.

Not that I love someone, or am thinking about loving someone.

Not that I even think I like someone.

The word like is enough to send me running for the hills right now. Can you imagine where I'd end up if I actually "liked" someone? (Yes that's a very appropriate place to use both hands to make air quotations) If you don't know what I mean by that... figure your shit out. You're life is messier than mine.

And that's saying a lot.


Cause

it has been a few weeks since I really saw my floor.

some days I re-wear the outfit I was wearing the night before.

a decent amount of my clothes have this soggy smell to them because our dryer broke right after I did a large load of laundry and I have yet to wash them again... cause I'm lazy.

 

But being lazy and smelling soggy and walk of shame-esk outfits and typical messy shared bedrooms and not-like liking that one guy who lives with that other kid who you really wish would get over himself and run on sentences are all okay!

 

CAUSE I'M IN COLLEGE

 

 

 

For those of you who don't already know, being in College means big things! Mainly, it means that things I deem okay are in fact okay. I think I've broken it down, adulthood that is.

 

Choosing

Deciding

Depression

Never sleeping

Deeming

Dreaming

Drinking

Being responsible

Being irresponsible

Acting like you're twelve when someone new comes into your life and brings stomach butterflies with them...

 

Oh dear God I like him.

I think I actually like him.

 

Really?

shit.

 

And its scares me because if I decide that I like him then I open myself to liking him. I don't need approval from anyone cause what I deem is okay, is okay. Because its my life. This is my life, and its my decision. And a few days ago I decided to sit on his couch and watch baseball because it meant he'd hold my hand. And kiss my forehead. And ask me if I wanted anything when he got up to get himself another drink.

 

What does that mean?

No really, what does that mean?

 

I think I'm actually asking you, cause I really don't think I know.

 

But not knowing is okay.

 

 

#CollegeBlogs

9172k13

 

 

 

Dayquil, PBR, NyQuil, and Caffine

there are so many days
I set myself in front of this blank page
with a rucksack, and a map I embark on a journey

to write

 

 

         My fingers long to be the connection between everything I feel and everything I put on paper. All that I am desperately waits to flutter out of my body and settle on this page.

 

 

read me

see me

taste of all that is me

 

 

this, this is who I am. Who I was and will never be again. This is every brick I've collected along my way, and this is my center of gravity while I stand atop those bricks and reach for the all that I could be someday.

                Someday.

                       What an awful word.

a spotless mind

Would you erase it? If you could?

the pain
the notes of the song in his soul that still ring out in your ears
the bruises
the pieces of buck-lists scribbled on parchment paper
the tears
the rays of light through town house windows

If all it took was pressing a black ink pen to a crisp sheet of paper, would you sign away everything you had once had together and everything you lost once already?

Half of me says I would/Half of me knows I wouldn't

half of me wishes I could/half of me thinks I couldn't

half of me dreams of the day when I won't have to remember/half of me tries to remember everyday

 

 

All of me longs to know what you would do

 

and none of me wants to hear your answer

 

 

 

 

I'm sure you'd raise your eye brows and contemplate it.

Weigh the pros and cons.

Maybe you'd think some of the same things I tough.

 

"I'd never have to miss you."

"I could love someone else, and it wouldn't feel incomplete."

"I'd never have to miss you."

"I could laugh without thinking of your laugh.

"I'd never have to miss you."

 

                I'm thankful I can think about what you'd do if you had the option of erasing me from your memory completely. And oddly enough I'm thankful I can't erase you. If  I have to deal with the empty, aching, loneliness when I hear that certain song, then I'll deal with it. I can't tell you that I enjoy remembering it all, and I think we both know there are things I'd bleed to forget. But, none the less, we had something. We had that first thick layer of pure white snow that starts off every winter, and I'd never give up watching it fall to forget watching it melt. There is beauty in the breaking.

 

Life's about finding happiness, and we pursue it to the edges             

                                                                                                                  of the earth.

 

 But happiness wouldn't be worth the journey without sadness.

Without sadness, happiness would be nothing.