[memoirsofvelaris]

there are always signs before an end; moments where you’d see the ground before contact or instances where you’d hear the clock start ticking before the bomb detonates.

But ours ended in the quiet, like an illusion that ceased to be.

— and i wonder, will there be anything louder than this silence?

[inkskinned]

one of the hard things to learn, once you're outside of it, is that people will get upset at you sometimes. sometimes they will be hurt, or disappointed, or frustrated. sometimes you will misunderstand them or they will misunderstand you, sometimes they will disagree with you passionately, sometimes they will just have had a hard day and feel annoyed by pretty much everything.

but people who are good people - the kind of people who you should keep - they do not rely on that feeling to guide them. they understand i'm upset right now. when they lash out, they apologize afterward. they take responsibility. even angry out of their wits, they try not to cross boundaries - they don't say things to hurt you, they don't break your things, they don't make you afraid. they take space or deep breaths or write it down before replying. they work hard to not-be-upset, they return to you and say. okay. i'm sorry i lost my temper, that was really upsetting for me. i'm ready to listen this time, let's solve this as a team.

there is a gripping , soul-crushing fear i have of making someone upset. i catastrophize the situation. being upset is dangerous. is to be solved immediately, regardless of what it takes out of me.

there is no person on earth who can always be happy with you. someone who is never upset with you is likely someone who is pretending. but the hard thing for me to learn was that being upset with me was not a binary love/unlove, friend/enemy. it was not - that person hates you now, forever. it was instead - there's a whole spectrum of use for an apology. my trauma doesn't understand the lighter grey shades at all - the idea someone can have just a passing displeasure because i stepped on their foot or misheard their coffee order. that a person might just be upset at the situation, and not even think to hold it against me.

i used to avoid any contact with a person i thought i had even vaguely upset - interrupting them by accident, or, once, because i had not known about a rare allergy before i made dessert for our company - on the assumption that it was one-and-done. once someone disliked me, it was permanent. or else, maybe worse: i would have to work, tirelessly, wrought over with it, like a sick sad puppy. i would do anything to make the person love me. i didn't make a lot of close friends. i assumed nobody really liked me, because of course they don't, i'm annoying. i wanted to get out of their life before they realized i am worse than they had expected. i wanted to get out before i could prove them right.

i wish i could give you a happy ending to this. i am still carrying it with me. people pleasing. my therapist admits she isn't too surprised ("well, it sort of perfectly fits with your history of trauma and adhd"). i feel rejection like an open wound, all gaping and torn inside me. i hate the idea so much that i simply assume the worst and skitter myself into the dark corners, cowering. thinking - i've done it! i've made everyone safe from me! if i'm in here, and they're out there, they can never be upset with me!

and what kind of a life it is. so safe and so potently lonely.

[memoirsofvelaris]

because sometimes I need a little more than ‘ I love you’s ’ and ‘ I miss you ‘

sometimes what I need is for you to show up at my door because you know that’s what I need — you’re what I need.

[4am-reflections]

real love is not like the poetry. it is not i love you spat down each other’s throats or finding a reason to live again because you found this one person. It is so much simpler than that. real love is telling them to go back to sleep because it is still early and you know they need it, even if you want them to be awake with you. It’s realizing it won’t always be easy but still choosing them every day and wanting to be the very best for them. that’s it, it’s not as deep as you think.

4am

[inkskinned]

it is a brave, and wounded place - loving in despite of your trauma. it always gets painted as one loop upwards: we go to therapy, we get better.

you will love deeper, you will love kinder, you will love more (in spades, in large swatches of caution tape, free and unbidden; the numb finally slushing away)

but you will still sit on the floor of your apartment and feel heinous little snatches of your mental illness. you will unwind over small things. you will desperately want some-kind-of-validation, but know there's actually-something-else-here, a thirst unable to be slaked, a hunger that causes you to rip open the world so it understands your pain. you'll think about how you want to leave before you get left, how the hurt will be so manageable if you just steal out the back door and run with your bare feet. you will call it a controlled detonation, your tongue dry while you plan relocating to the city.

but you will exit the car fire of your childhood and you will hold the child you didn't get to be and you'll say: shush now. we won't run, we know how to make our home.

and the child will say: it's all sand. there's no foundation. the world isn't safe to build upon.

and we will stretch our hands and our old back and the hips that keep clicking. and we will say: from sand we made glass. and what else is there to say after that? the world isn't safe. the world isn't always kind.

but you have survived it, and it makes it just a little easier, each time, to spread yourself over the water and feel like you are swimming.

[memoirsofvelaris]

because there’s so much love and pain in me and I don’t know what to do with either of them

[memoirsofvelaris]

i used to think that the greatest loss was losing yourself. I thought it was the most painful thing I’d experience in my lifetime. But as he lay there, in pain while I stand here unable to do anything but watch and cry and scream until my throat burns, I realized I was wrong. I was utterly wrong. because I would willingly lose myself over and over again if it’s what it takes to keep death from taking him. 

-- nothing would ever hurt more than to watch him die in front of me

[memoirsofvelaris]

I still wonder what it feels like to be loved. truly loved. the kind of love where you’d end up smiling and laughing in the middle of an argument because you’d realize how little this fight meant and how none of these fights matter because you love this person so so much. You’d be mad and happy at the same time because you know, you just fucking know, that you won’t lose this person over something petty, that this —whatever the both of you have, is something so real, and it is that kind of love — the one that makes you unafraid of love . the kind of love that makes you want to live.

[memoirsofvelaris]

and it was painful to look at her, to even think about her or mention her name. not because I hate her, but because she’s a living, breathing reminder that I could’ve walked away, I could’ve walked away so early on. I could’ve saved myself from all the bullshit, all the pain. she reminds me that I did not save myself, I did not walk away, I chose to let him hurt me. i chose to let him put me through all that hell.

[memoirsofvelaris]

I wish I was allowed to be in pieces. I wish I could feel the ache in its entirety without any ounce of guilt or shame.

[memoirsofvelaris]

[memoirsofvelaris]

just because someone loves you doesn’t mean they’re good for you

[memoirsofvelaris]

All my life people told me that when someone leaves, it means they probably never really loved you at all. but no one told me that someone could love you with their entire being and still leave you. No one told me how painful it is to leave someone despite knowing that you both still love each other. No one told me how painful it is to realize that in certain horrible circumstances, love just isn’t enough.

[memoirsofvelaris]

No one told me that leaving could hurt as much as being left behind.

[memoirsofvelaris]

and yet a part of me aches

to close the distance

to actually touch you

but could I?

and if I could

will you run away?

or will the Gods take mercy on me

and allow me to embrace you

without losing you?

— maybe you’ll embrace me back or maybe not

[memoirsofvelaris]

I never knew I’d have the guts to actually leave. To walk away despite knowing that I’ll probably end up alone, to let you go knowing that maybe no one will love me as hard as you’ve tried. I didn’t think I had the strength to turn away from something that has the potential to be the best relationship I could dream of. And the thing is, I didn’t want to leave but I needed to leave because I don’t want to break you and I don’t want to be stuck in a relationship that just keeps me hoping. I’m sorry I didn’t have any strength left to keep hoping that you could finally love me the way I needed to be loved.

[memoirsofvelaris]

I know you love me, you say it so often.

And I believe you

I just hope that you’d actually show it

instead of repeating it over and over

like a fucking broken song.