You Love Him.

You loved him. 

You loved him so much it actually hurt you to think about it. 

You felt your chest tighten up and your head start spinning, because the idea of loving him so much was astronomically far from where you wanted to be. 

You don't even know exactly when it happened. 

When interest turned to infatuation,

 and infatuation turned into caring,

 and caring turned into loving him with your whole being. 

You don't know.

 You don't care.

You tell yourself that it's nothing. That his sweet words, his wooing of your heart, can be controlled. 

You can control this. 

You tell yourself that you are not attached.

 You know, 

because you would never allow that.

You would never allow yourself to fall for someone you never met before, never touched physically. 

Oh but you have, 

his words have found a bed inside your buzzing brain 

and his voice has caressed your body day in and day out. 

He was yours. 

You were his. 

Something like that. 

It's tangled within the promises and sweet nothings placed around your torsos, interconnecting and weaving you two together like an intricate painting. 

You love him, 

even when he's laying in bed - 

                                         thinking of her.

Suicide Awareness Day.

Sometimes I can melt together words so beautifully, that I have to take a step back and reread what I've written to make sure I actually wrote it. Sometimes, I can't even get a full thought to edge out of my mind. This, is one of those times. 

Suicide Awareness Day. 

I have started and erased this so many times. The words just aren't coming out the way I want them too. So I guess, I will tell you a glimpse of my story and hope it will help those who deal with these thoughts or tendencies. And I hope it will help everyone else be a voice to those who don't know how to use theirs.

I couldn't tell you how long I've had depression. Probably from a younger age and I didn't know what it even was. Depression comes in many shapes and many forms, mine was a little more sneaky. I rode it like waves. High and low, never in-between. I didn't know what I was dealing with, I just knew sometimes I was so happy and so excited and I was on top of the world, but then most of the time I was so low that getting out of bed hurt.  My lover became Death. I dreamed about Death, I thought up ideas of how to be with Death.  I kissed Death a few too many times.  I fell in love with pain.  Self-inflicted butterfly kisses - that's what I called my wounds.  Too many close calls later, I ended up in therapy to deal with.. things.  

One day, in my latter high school career, I was driving home from a lunch date and all I could think about was different ways to die. Hit a tree, swerve in the wrong lane. I got home, and I saw the dishes and I thought what if my hand slipped while cleaning a knife? I went into the bathroom and I thought, what if I take a bath and something electric fell in? I got in my room and I thought, what if I broke this mirror and just ended it all? It was like my brain was flooded with all these things I could do, Accidentally, or not. I couldn't get it out of my head. But the worst part, was that no one knew. Or if they did, they didn't try and stop me. I was alone in my head, and my head was telling me to do awful things, because I didn't matter. I was just one soul trapped in a world with a million other better souls. I ended up in a hospital, because I told my therapist about those thoughts. I had no one. I was there for two weeks, and people thought it was for attention? What? To this day I can't fathom why someone would ever say that to me. 

In 2010, I finally was clean from causing harm to my body. But the urges never dissipated. Then almost three years ago, November 28th, 2012 exactly - I attempted to end my life for the last time.  I shouldn't be alive today.  But I am. I woke up in the hospital room and I decided to choose to fall in love with Life. Even though it took me until the journey out of Wisconsin to truly begin to learn what loving myself really means - I am learning. I have learned that suicide is stigmatized and I've learned that being a voice might be the only thing I can do, but that I should do it anyways.  I am learning that just because my brain does not always understand how happy and positive my life and feelings are - doesn't mean it has to control me.  I will always deal with suicidal urges.  People who deal with depression and suicide, will always deal with their symptoms. It doesn't just go away. But we are strong.  We are brave.  And we are NOT a stigma.

Choosing Life might be the hardest choice we make, but we make it every day.  And for those who couldn't make that choice, I understand, I love you and I hope you rest in peace.  For those who still struggle, you are not alone, I am here for you and I have resources for you. And for those who never have, please learn to listen.  Learn to see. Learn to understand.  The struggle with suicide is hard to understand if you have never been in love with Death, but that does not mean, you can't try. Please try, please be aware, and please spread your awareness.

The winds shake

the waters rise

the sun comes up

we stand tall.

Spectacular.

Sitting on a bus, headphones drowning out all sound, I sit and watch.  Other people are sitting with their headphones on - some are staring and others have their head back and their eyes closed. I see people on the phone, some smiling and others with their eyebrows tightened together. Others are laughing and some are just staring in stony silence. People from all different walks of life, all strangers to me, and this is the only place I don't feel alone. 

By the time I entered high school, I dreamed of becoming something huge. I wanted to be something spectacular or have something spectacular happen to me. I hoped and prayed that I'd be splashed on all the newspapers and CNN and Fox News would broadcast me everywhere. That all the people in my life who made me feel so small, would see me as the next big thing.  I thought to feel content and happy with myself I had to be something far more than who I was.

I will never understand the inherent need of human beings to judge the person across from us. If they wear weird clothes, if they don't shave, if they do, if they lack athletic skills or they're "too" in to sports. If they are gay, or straight, or somewhere in between. If they prefer video games over social interaction or if they go to church once a week and not twice a week. I get that it's something we do. I've done it, you've done it and the Pope has done it. It's an instinct that we can't necessarily help, but what we do with those judgements? That can be helped. 

All those times growing up that I was taunted, made fun of, disliked - they added up. In 2nd grade, when I picked my nose and the kid next to me shouted it out to the whole room and I was so embarrassed I never wanted to go back to school again. When I went to a friends house in 4th grade, for a sleep over, and she wrote in her diary (that admittedly I shouldn't have read) and said how she only had me over cause her mom felt bad for me. I still remember reading that and my heart drop, because she was supposed to be my friend and she didn't even like me. I still remember her asking me to play in the water and me sitting there just so sad - going home heartbroken over being betrayed by this girl.  Or the time in 6th grade when the guy I was crushing on hard asked me out. I was so flattered and happy, because no one ever paid attention to me that way. Two weeks later to find out that it was a bet to see if I would say yes. Jokes on me. They had no idea that I went home and cried myself to sleep for two weeks. Because finally, finally someone thought I was pretty enough to be with - despite all the times at home I was called ugly. Or in 7th grade when I decided I was going to wear a short skirt to school, because everyone made fun of me for years for wearing long skirts, just to receive sideways glances and the "there she is" snickers in the hallway.  The amount of times I was made fun of, because it took me 13 minutes to run "The Mile," in gym class. I was the drama queen, as everyone called me in school, because I took everything to heart. But they had no idea the pain I went through day in and day out. No I was never bullied physically in school, but that didn't make it any less real. I was unhappy, and it wasn't because of any single event in my life - but all of them. 

You see, we never know what the person across from us is going through. They never knew I went home to my own personal hell. They never knew the pain or agony I felt inside. The amount of times I tried to end it all. And how much I wanted to be someone, anyone else. I read books instead of joining sports, because I could escape into a new world. I wished so hard to turn into something so spectacular they would feel bad for all the things they did to me.

Then I grew up.

Most of those people have no idea what pain they caused me. Most of them have no idea what consequences their actions could incur. I have weeped for those who have ended their lives, because of careless words and actions. I truly hope they have found their peace. But to those people who made me feel so small without possibly even knowing it, thank you. Because through you I have found something so much better. All that time I wished and hoped to become something spectacular to blow the minds of all the people who would hear of me, wasn't in vain. Maybe I don't blow minds, and maybe people don't shout and jump for my signature when I walk by, but I am something completely unique and spectacular and wonderful. I am me, fully and completely. That is something I will never allow another human being to take from me. 

Until the day I die, I will reach out and show more love and more respect than was ever shown me. That is how we breed unity, and one day I hope - peace.

To The One Who Doesn't Think They Are Beautiful

To the one who doesn't think they are beautiful.
The one with eyes that steal my soul.
The one who's heart is made of love.

True beauty comes from what we see
In your laugh
What you feel
Your love
Your soul

The face you make when you are happy
The face you make when you are sad
Your smile
Your thoughts of love for another

The curves of your body
Your skin to be kissed
Your lips to be loved

Your beauty is what drives me
The smile upon my face
The glare in my eye
It is you
Everything that you are
You are perfect
And my heart skips when it sees your face

If I had the power
To sacrifice all that I am
To prove to you
You are more beautiful
Than I could ever imagine another creature being
I would gladly give up everything that makes me, me

Words can only take one so far
Let me show you what love really is
Let me give you my love
To just you
Only you
Forever
And beyond

To the one who doesn't think they are beautiful
I know you are.

For You

You made me a fool for you
But really you just
made me be a fool.

Nighttime Musings.

Dear Future Whoever You May Be,

I can't give you everything you deserve. I can't give you my whole heart, part of that is missing. I can't give you all my soul, some of that was stolen from me. I can't give you my innocence, that was taken too long ago. I can't call you my first love, that title was already given away. But I can give you what is left of me, as tarnished and battered as those things may be, I can give you what's left. You might not be my first love, but that doesn't mean you won't be even more.  I can show you love purely. I can show you a girl who puts her significant other before her own desires. I can show you a kindred spirit. But is that enough for you?

I want to touch you. I want to feel your breath on my skin. I want my fingers to reach out and have yours find them. I want to hold you so close neither of us can breathe. I want our tongues to dance as one to the rhythm of our heartbeats. I want to lay my head on your shoulder and feel secure in you. I want to show you what loving each other can do.

I'm a needy person, I'll want your love to keep me safe. The word love has been tarnished by many before you, whether my ex or my family or my friends. I don't even know if that is a good word to me anymore, but I yearn to hear it one day. When I can not hear the words I love you, or even the words I like you, please don't think it's because of you. Please just say that you need me. Tell me how your breath catches when I walk out the door out of fear that I won't walk back through them. Please say that you desire me. Tell me how your heart pounds and your palms get sweaty, because all you want is our hands intertwined and our skin synced. But please don't say you love me. Please show me, you love me. Love has ripped my flesh apart. Has taken my heart and broken it with bare hands. Love has chewed me up and spit me out. Love has taught me how powerful hate can be. Show me that you care for me. Show me that you love me. But please, don't say you love me, unless you mean it with everything inside of you.  You should know, it will take time for me to trust those word. So in advance, I'm sorry.

Liking me isn't easy. So whenever loving me comes around, that will probably be a whole lot worse. Sometimes, I'm the happiest person you'll ever meet. You'll throw your head back, the same as mine, in laughter over the stupidest things. You'll watch me crinkle my nose and light up at the simplest smile from you. You'll watch me pour my soul into whatever I may be doing at that moment. Whether dancing like an idiot or meditating to keep balance. When I throw my arms around your neck and kiss you hundreds of times out of pure joy and love. Those are the times it will be easiest to love me. Like when we were kids and we all had our favorite candy so going into the candy shop was easy; because as a child we only saw what pleased us the most so we knew exactly what we wanted when we wanted it. Loving me on my good days will be like that. Simple, easy, and your favorite thing to do. But... My bad days... Those days when I don't want to get out of bed and forcing myself to work means I'll either stay up all night or sleep it away. When all I do is sit and stare at what's in front of me. When the sadness and the pain and all the bad just seems to suffocate my spirit. When looking at you is painful because I know I should be happy. When you kiss me on my cheek and I barely acknowledge you because I'm numb. When I pick fights with you just because, and when I don't say "I love you, too."  When I hate myself and I cry and I don't understand why I feel the way I do.. Those days will be the hardest to love me. Like when someone tries to ask you what your favorite single book is and you can't just pick one because that whole series was amazing or all five of those books have worn out pages from being turned over and over again. It will be difficult and maybe even painful and to be quite honest, you'll probably want to walk away.

But here's the thing. My heart loves and my soul sings and my mind might play petty tricks, but it knows itself better than most would ever suspect. I will steal your heart with quick kisses and I'll take your soul with my love. You might realize I'm the reason storms are named after people, but you'll also remember why we need storms to make flowers grow.

With all my heart,
Whoever I Am to You.

Untitled.

It is a dejected shade of blue black

Competing with a reflection of diamond white

The allegory of perfection leaves all of life desired

There is no comparison to be made.

Because fate can only see the ambrosial skin.
Meanwhile, bleeding profusely underneath
The lettered one maintains, and does not cry.
Darkness smiles - though she slips away,
but her acrimony towards the girl does not.
For the sun shines brighter on white
than it does black.