i think this is going to be my last post on here. not that i've been posting regularly, for a while. and not that i really talk to anyone or anyone reads my blog anymore. but just for my sake. this will be my last post. i'm not going to delete this because the nostalgia is too great. but it doesn't feel like 'my' blog anymore. this used to be a place that I would post pictures of my own, pictures of musicians i liked, of places i wanted to go. text posts of problems and good things going on in my life. but it feels different now. after everything thats happened this past year, i feel like my old self died and everything with that life is gone now, too. it doesn't feel like 'mine' anymore. it feels like a distant memory. every single thing is different. sometimes i get glimpses of my old self. i smile at her, and i look back on the person she was. on the person i was. i was young, innocent and naive. i was learning more about what it means to be an adult, slowly, the way we should learn. i was growing up. i was happy and excited for the future and hopeful and scared but in a good way. i was barely working at the job i had, i was drinking in my basement constantly, dancing the nights away, spending money i didn't have on weed and clothes. i was dating guys and going to college and at the same time of all that craziness i was doing yoga constantly and beginning a spiritual journey which i believe saved my life. i was enjoying the last three years of being a teenager. and then i turned 20. and it feels like i turned 40. the things i've gone through since my 20th birthday are things i wouldn't wish on the worst person in the world. my best friend, my other half died. the man i fell in love with right before that happened left me after it happened. my feet got messed up, my eyes got messed up, and my emotions got thrown into a whirlwind. i wished to die, in some way, any way, just so i didn't have to deal with the emotional and physical pain. i was thrown back into a life that didn't feel like a life and just felt like a nightmare. and here i am, very close to one year later. and life is nothing like it was. i am working full time, two different teaching jobs. living in my own apartment with someone i fell very deeply in love with in a very short amount of time, someone who brought me back to life. i go to bed early and i'm tired all the time and the future doesn't exist to me anymore, the present moment is all i can focus on and sometimes, even that's too much. i was forced to grow up quickly, and i was taken out of my life and put into something different. and i'm still getting the hang of it. every day is still a struggle. i have such a long way to go. i've been through hell and sometimes i feel that i am still there, and i'll never get out. sometimes i can see the sunshine. sometimes i laugh and i smile- a lot, actually. sometimes i feel like i'm here for a purpose and there are things i'm going to do and i'll have a family one day and i'll travel like i always wanted to and become a yoga teacher or a school teacher or both, and i'll do a ton of different things and maybe the hope inside me will be sparked again; maybe the desire to live a full life will return. i think it will. i think slowly but surely, the fear will turn into positivity. the sadness will have to manifest into something beautiful. the struggles will create joy. the guilt will become peace. i've always believed that, so why stop now? when life throws at us, things we never saw coming, things that seem impossible and unbearable, do we give up? are we supposed to throw in the towel when the unimaginable happens? i'm speaking from experience, from someone who has so desperately wanted to give up, and sometimes even still do, that that's not what is supposed to happen. we are not supposed to quit when things don't go as planned. life is about challenges, changes, its about overcoming the greatest obstacles and appreciating the greatest miracles. i'm shocked at the words i write sometimes, because for a very long time i was swimming in my own negativity. every day is different. a lot of days, i still do feel sorry for myself. and a lot of days, i am grateful for being alive. the thing that keeps me going is him. is Vincent. my best friend. his spirit has to be living on in me somehow because i don't know how i could do this without him. the magic in the world has his name written all over it. i can see him, still. in a lot of different ways, in a lot of different things. after this happened, i could not listen to music for a while. and the first album i listened to was Lonesome Dreams by Lord Huron. i can't explain it, and i don't know why, but i know this album is him speaking to me. i don't even know how i discovered it, but i know it happened in January, and he died in December, but i can see us dancing to it together, which doesn't make any sense but makes all the sense in the world. i feel like my heart is breaking open. slowly, so slowly, its happening. and one day the cracks will open up and the light will shine out of it and i won't be afraid of life or guilty because of it and i won't be angry that i'm still here. one day i'll feel all the love and light and gratefulness that i used to feel every day. i believe that. and thats why i'm hanging on. i remember everything. i remember my house and us together inside of it and i remember what it felt like to live there and i remember what it felt like to be another person and i now i know how it feels to be different and i love my old self. i think about her all the time. she was so beautiful and funny and caring and happy. and she inspires me everyday to be like her. and one day, one day i will come close. one day i will look in the mirror and smile truly, smile into my own soul, at all of my past, at my pain and heartache and sorrows and all of my happiness and laughter and joys. i will smile at life. i will smile at what that means and i will smile because no one knows what it means. and i hope you smile too. __________________________ if anyone i used to talk to reads this, message me for an email address to keep in contact.
