somehow, I remain.

nc

[goneg-irl]

Temporary has always been my favorite word. When my heart ached and my ribs cracked and my arms bled and my legs crumbled, the only thing that could ever bring me back was the reminder of how temporary it was. How my pain could only last so long, my suffering lingered but could never stay. There would come a time when each moment no longer had power over me. A freedom, almost, a tiny reminder that nothing can be forever. The only breath of fresh air I had for weeks sometimes was the repetition of that word in the back of mind. Temporary, temporary, temporary. Until I met you. And now temporary makes my heart ache. Now temporary rings in my ears like a death sentence, like a dirty word. Temporary no longer calms the tempest seas of my soul but rather scares me. I don't want temporary anymore, I want forever with your smile and always with your hand in mine. Now temporary only means loss. Now temporary is the worst thing that crosses my mind.

temporary love 

[goneg-irl]

Are you mad at me?" His eyes were softer than usual but his voice still dripped with venom.  "No." I opened my mouth to explain but nothing came out. He studied me for a minute before he said anything.  "You probably should be mad," he twisted my purple hair tie that hung around his wrist, "I fucked up this time." I shook my head. He was wearing the same shirt he was the day I met him. It was yellow and had a rip in the sleeve that I begged him to let me sew every time he wore it. I knew exactly how that shirt smelled, how it felt against my skin, how it looked on the floor of my bedroom.  "Yeah, you did. You really fucked up this time, David." I could feel the knot in my stomach growing.  "So then why aren't you mad?" I knew this was his favorite question. "It's pointless." I pulled my hair up and bit the inside of my lip. I wanted to leave the conversation at that but I knew he wouldn't. He never has. Leaving things alone was never David's strong suit. It was part of the reason he had the permanent scowl on his face. He was constantly picking up things that he couldn't put down and it got him into trouble almost every time. "Pointless? What do you mean?" His eyes were dancing. He loved the chase. He loved squeezing information from my tired eyes and breathless lungs. I shrugged, "I don't know." My face gave away nothing but he knew I was lying anyways. He eyes didn't move an inch. I knew he wasn't going to let it go. "It's pointless to be mad at you because eventually, probably sooner rather than later, I won't be mad at anymore. I think its a waste of the limited amount of time we have to spend it angry about something I know I will forgive you for." I ended my sentence with a kiss on his forehead. "But how do you know you will forgive me? What if I do something unforgivable?" He really wouldn't let me breath. I sighed heavily and plopped down on his bed. I wasn't planning on staying long but I could tell he wasn't going to let me leave anytime soon.  "I think I'll probably always forgive you, I mean really if I'm being honest. It's your eyes. It drives me crazy. I can't look at them and feel anything negative. Only love." David crawled into the bed next to me and scooped me into his arms. He smelled like cinnamon candy and the cologne I bought him for his birthday three months ago. We laid like that for a while. Silent. Content. I was dozing off when he cleared his throat. "Your eyes feel like that too. Like love. They always have." I nodded, partly so he knew I heard him but mostly because I knew it was true.

an excerpt from the book I will never be strong enough to write.

[goneg-irl]

I wish I could forget the way you said my name in your sleep.

unsent message 2

[goneg-irl]

Are all of your writings about the same person?

no & I always tag the person it’s about but I use a nickname.

MOST of them are about the same person though, which I tag as “high school” 

[goneg-irl]

I wear the bruises on my skin like medals of honor. Like I'm blessed by your fingerprints, dark purple and rotting yellow deep under my skin. Like it's proof. Like I'm screaming that you touched me, elated. Like I would wear them everyday for the rest of your life. Like "I love you" will always be painted under my eyes at 12:31 am. Like I would never not text you back. Like the sun's warmth ain't shit compared to the night you just couldn't let me go. Like I was the one that was warm, like I was thawing you into love with me. Like I almost had you in my hands. Like I left your house with a fresh set of bruises. Like I cried in my car for an hour the night before in front of the same house. Like you didn't say goodbye again. Like you really thought you loved me. Like I really almost believed you. Like we were almost on fire. Like my phone number isn't blocked in your phone right now. Like my skin isn't frozen solid. Like these bruises on my skin mean passion. Like they aren't manifestations of your fear. Like your mom is still here. Like I won't ever be able to fix you. Like I would still spend every second trying. Like it's okay. Like you're okay. Like it'll be okay. Like the way I fall asleep in your bed. Like you aren't the first person I think about when I wake up. Like you haven't ignored me for the last two weeks. Like you won't ever disappear again. Like I won't ever forget you. Like I'll always be waiting. Like I'll leave the light on. Like even when it's someone else, it's always you first.

I don’t think people were ever supposed to love like this.

[goneg-irl]

I met someone else but my heart still begs for you.

unsent message 1

[goneg-irl]

I fell fast and hard in love with you. I think it was the way your knuckles were always swollen and red. Or maybe when I saw the bat you keep in the back of your car "cause shit gets wild some times." Maybe it was when I saw your room for the first time, covered in posters and pictures of a softer time for you. Of course, it could of been when you sat in front of me bouncing to keep yourself from reaching across the bed and beating the love out of my eyes. Maybe I knew I loved you when you forgot to save my phone number. Or maybe when I hugged you goodbye you said "be safe kid," your arms wrapped a bit tighter around me than ever before. Maybe it was when I met your best friend, your eyes watching my every move, terrified by how far in you had gotten yourself. Maybe it was that time your hands wrapped around my neck for speaking too honestly. Maybe I knew when you said "I'll live without you but I'll miss you too." Maybe it was when you came back for me. Or maybe it was when you left again. But really, if you ask me, maybe it was in a past life. Maybe I loved you so fiercely, so permanently, it's carried over. Maybe I'll love you just as strong in the next life. Maybe I'll love you forever.

Maybe it’s always been you.

[goneg-irl]

I hope you find something that saves you. I hope you find a love deep inside your soul that makes you stay. I hope you find peace with yourself. I hope you realize your capacity to love and be loved. I hope you find an unwavering faith in yourself. I hope that one day you can look in the mirror and remember that you are made of star dust and fire powder and that there is nothing in this tumultuous world that tarnishes your strength. I hope you find the "good enough" in the cracks of your own bones. I hope you forgive where you came from but never ever forget it. I hope you find something that you love enough to keep fighting and I hope more than anything that something is yourself.

To the boy that’s always known half love.

[goneg-irl]

My art appreciation professor asked us to each come up with our own definition of art- I think art is the way you look at me. I think art is kissing you so much I forget to breath. I think art is the way you snore in your sleep every once in a while. I think art is the way you smell after basketball practice. I think art is the innocence in your eyes. I think art is the way you whisper in my ear late at night with all the lights off or the middle of the day with the sunlight pouring into your room. I think art is the way you can't concentrate to save your life. I think art is the way you move in between my legs. I think art is looking at you, now when you're young and handsome and dreaming of you when you're old and wise. I think art is the way I fall asleep at night, safe with you around.

My favorite masterpiece

[goneg-irl]

You are never still. I think it’s all the bottled up violence inside of you. I think that’s why your hands are constantly running down my body. You can’t let them rest on my skin because they might snap my bones and rip my flesh. I know I should be scared. Sometimes I think my words tear tiny holes in the fabric of your reality because I can see the desire in your eyes, I can see how bad you want to hurt me. I know that it's terrifying. I see your wrists twitching. Do you still remember how she smelled? How bad did it hurt when she left? Memories aren't too fond this time. I know I should be scared. I think that the only thing that stops you from splitting my skull open is how I look at you. Like I would fall at your feet if I wasn't already laying in your lap. Like I could drown in every word you say. Like when your hands are around my neck and all I can do is trust that my eyes don't remind you of hers. Like how even when I can't breathe I am begging you to look at me, begging you to understand how deeply I have planted my roots in your soul. I know I should be scared.

and I am not.

[goneg-irl]

1. His scent will linger in everything you own, your sheets, your favorite sweatshirt, your hair. It’s okay to forget how to breathe for a second when you smell it, it’s okay to give your best friend that sweatshirt and tell your mom the sheets are scratchy. It’s okay to dye your hair a new color and look in the mirror at a sight he’s never loved. 2. People will watch you. They will study you to determine how well you’re handling his absence. It’s okay to be soft, it’s okay to let your eyes water. It’s okay to be weak, you are human and not made of steel and anyone that expects you to be unaffected is not someone you need around. 3. You are not obligated to say his name out loud. You are not obligated to tell people what happened. You are not obligated to act like it was nothing to you. You are not obligated to be his friend, or his friends’s friend. You are not obligated to continue to fluff his ego. You are not obligated to defend his choices, not even to yourself. You are obligated to give yourself time to grieve and fall apart. 4. Sometimes you will be sitting in the hallway at school, or on the couch with your mom and you will feel the pain all over again. It will hit you like train from hell and it will come from nowhere. Don’t act like it isn’t there. It’s okay to be okay and then hurt all over again. It’s okay to not know what you’re feeling. 5. It’s okay to feel like the world is ending, it’s okay to lay in bed and wallow. It’s okay to cry until you can’t cry anymore. It’s okay to not be okay, but it is not okay to stay this way forever. It’s not okay to leave yourself in the past drowning in his memory. It’s not okay to shut yourself off from the world. It’s not okay to allow someone to ruin you entirely, because you are beautiful and you are whole without him. It’s not okay to lose yourself when you lose him.

5 things they don’t tell you about breaking up (via goneg-irl)

[goneg-irl]

An open letter to the boys I have loved and lost,

Thank you for every kind word ever said, for every tear wiped on the back of your sleeve. Thank you for every comforting hug, every dinner date, every midnight milkshake run. Thank you for every sleepless night filled with giggles and kisses. Thank you for every back rub, every loving embrace, every morning cuddle session. Thank you for listening to me when I was babbling about nothing in particular and for listening extra hard when I wasn’t saying much. Thank you for the cough medicine when I was sick and the pizza when I was sad. Thank you for holding my hand at the mall, at school, in the car. Thank you for letting me pick the music. Thank you for kissing my forehead when I was mad. Thank you for letting me yell and scream and pout when I needed it. Thank you for always being on my side, especially when I was wrong. Thank you for pointing out, gently, when I was wrong. Thank you for supporting my decisions, for loving my crazy plans. Thank you for falling asleep next to me every night possible, for keeping me safe in your arms. Thank you for reminding me how beautiful I was, especially on the days that I could barely drag myself out of bed. Thank you for eating at the same restaurant three nights in a row because I couldn’t get enough of the fried pickles. Thank you for sitting on the couch with my parents, for going to Christmas Mass with them. Thank you for introducing me to your friends, your family. Thank you for not posting the ugly pictures of me. Thank you for taking me to the beach, to the mountains and everywhere in between. Thank you for always driving to me. Thank you for sitting in silence with me when I just couldn’t talk anymore. Thank you for never making me feel like I was crazy.

But, most importantly, thank you for leaving me. Thank you for teaching me independence. Thank you for showing me how much stronger I was, stronger than I ever thought. Thank you for showing me what it was like to lose something so valuable, how to cope. Thank you for reminding me how much I needed my momma some days. Thank you for letting me fall down, so I learned how to stand back up again. Thank you for teaching me how to spare someone of the heartbreak that comes along with a new girl wrapped up in your arms. Thank you for teaching me compassion and understanding. Thank you for pushing me to my limits. Thank you for reminding me that pretty words only matter when they are backed by pretty actions. Thank you for reminding me that I deserve better. Thank you for showing me that I am whole on my own, that my beauty cannot be tarnished by hurtful circumstance.

[goneg-irl]

There is something so violent and wild about loving someone that doesn't love you in return, in the right light it can almost be mistaken for a beautiful thing.

I wish I could save myself from you

[goneg-irl]

The bruises on my waist do not belong to the hands that held my hair last night when I spilled my guts full of vodka and orange juice, nor do they belong to the lips on mine later that night. But the night before that was a different story, a different set of hands, tongues and words being whispered too early in the morning in between kisses, my eyes shut so tight I couldn't think about it even if I wanted too. None of them were the same, none of them were yours because I thought thats what "I don't love you anymore" tasted like but I think I was wrong cause I can't stop scrubbing my skin in the shower just in case you come home and I smell like someone else.

unfamiliar 

[goneg-irl]

It's not always bad ya know. When I think of you, it's not always in anger. Sometimes, just sometimes, I still think of you like the sun. Like you saved me. Like everything we had was 24K gold. Sometimes I still think of you like you were the night I knew I could never leave you, asleep on my chest. Your arms were so tight around my waist I couldn't move a fraction of an inch. You snored a little, stuttering over your breathing. Weak isn't a word anyone would ever use to describe you but I swear you were so vulnerable. Your eyes fluttering every so often, your face soft and sweet. Sometimes I still think of you like that, waiting for you to wake up, a smile already glued to your lips, thoughts of forever dancing around in your head. Sometimes I think of you like "I love you" might really mean infinitely and always.

sometimes I think of you and I can’t breathe 

[goneg-irl]

The charred remains of the past are not ropes tying you down, reeking of failure and embarrassment, no they are reminders that nothing is permanent and even the best of the best can catch fire and burn to the ground but you will survive it and you will thrive again and you are not the mistakes you've made. You are more than the embers you grew from, you are more than the ash and soot that covers your skin sometimes. Tragedy can free you in ways that you never knew possible and I promise you, you will burn again but you will burn brighter and hotter and you could set the world on fire.

For when your lungs are full of smoke and you can’t fight it anymore.

[goneg-irl]

I fell for you hard, like the time I flipped off the swings when I was five and hit my head on the shiny metal pole. I remember seeing stars and hearing a ringing in my ear. I remember time slowing down, everything a little bit out of focus. I remember wishing I could rewind just a second, just one second backwards so I could save myself. I remember feeling like maybe I was looking death in the face, seeing my life flash before my eyes. It almost felt like the time I fell off the swings when I was five.

When I knew I loved you.