[sad-sammy]

5 years (and then some) later

It’s been awhile.

What are some updates since the last time I posted anything here? It was early 2015 and tumblr seemed to be long over for me.

I had finished college, removed a lot of toxic people from my life, and I was figuring out my career and what I wanted to do. I was getting my shit together.

I spent the last hour just now rereading some of the angst I had going through a complicated and abusive relationship and the confusion I had about my attachment to this person that broke my trust, but I could not let go. I thought I was suffering the most at the time. I was hoping life would get better. It didn’t.

My mom fell ill at the end of 2016 and I lost her at the beginning of 2018. My heart was broken again in 2017 when someone who changed my life left me alone as my mom withered away. I was depressed and fell into a routine after I lost my mom. Nothing had meaning.

I was introduced to someone new in the summer of 2019—an artist—and I fell quick. I wouldn’t say it was love—I don’t know what love is—but it was something new. I was happy and I was ready to welcome someone new into my life again. I smiled more, opened up some more, and thought this person would accept me for who I was. I was happy to see them and wanted to talk to them almost every day. However, he got out of a relationship earlier that year—there was no intention to be anything more than friends—friends with benefits.

I was dumb and naive; I’ll admit that. I still cry about it. I wanted warmth and affection after being cold and dismissive for years. I pride myself in my independence and ability to be alone, but the solitude gets to me.

“Was there something wrong with me? Was I not good enough?” Those are thoughts I continue to have whenever he crosses my mind.

[sad-sammy]

it would be nice

it would be nice to walk side by side ears listening to a soothing voice eyes locked on lips that move eyes wandering admiring the blessing in disguise

it would be nice to have our fingers intertwine our knees to touch bodies close on train rides home or backs against doors standing toe to toe

it would be nice to be held for warmth, comfort, pain home hearts beating through our chests

it would be nice to be loved to be touched kissed here

the grass is greener on the other side but it would be nice

[rocknrollbabydoll-blog]

Do not mock a pain that you haven’t endured.

Unknown (via sorakeem)

[graphicporn]

[fuckoffcats]

i wanna do this

[imvogued]

x

[neomichan-deactivated20151205]

[howitzerliterarysociety-deactiv]

Everything is worse in black and white.

[unknownparadiseee]

[airows]

[sad-sammy]

April

There was a time in April, years back, when I had my heart torn out and destroyed. I was preparing for exams, staying up to get the final pieces of information into my mind before I headed to bed. Though my studies were important, I was too focused on whether or not he would respond to my text messages, if he was okay as he hung out with a friend in celebration of his birthday. One on one.

I never trusted that girl, coincidentally named after the month I gave up on the idea of a relationship. I gave my warnings, but was ignored and judged as the jealous and controlling type; the emotional wreck with trust issues. Senseless judgments skewed by the sayings of one person. Any and every "I love you" following that night was another gash on my heart.

I was given up on when I never let go and no, I cannot simply "get over it." I was not what he wanted, not what he was looking for, and never gave him what he truly wanted. To this day is bothers me.

"Am I good enough?" "Am I enough?"

Thank you for creating the emotional wreck with trust issues, for destroying my sense of self and security for the years that followed.

[tarshiec-deactivated20200604]

[sad-sammy]

I had my heart broken on Valentine's Day.

[noseblush-deactivated20141117]

Visit Original Link

[sad-sammy]

petrichor - keaton henson

pet·ri·chor: a pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather

[thatkindofwoman]

After spending the winter in a relationship, this summer came quick and it came with a lot of eye openers.

I’ve been single the majority of my life. I’ve actually spent more time with tumblr than I have dating or being in a relationship. 

I broke up with my ex because I felt extremely detached from myself, among other things. So, I’ve become my own partner. It’s only me. I’m the one who I wake up to, who I go to sleep with.

I’m the one who motivates myself to do an extra power set when working out, or push myself a little harder to deeming a posture in my yoga practice. 

I’ve spent a lot of time alone since moving out of my parent’s house. And, well, that’s great and fine. It’s loving and fulfilling, it’s giving me the time to make my body, mind, and thoughts fully mine. It means I don’t have to worry about what someone else needs or wants from me as a partner. 

But there is something about hot summer nights, about wanting to read aloud to someone. About heading onto my roof, being able to reach out and rest my hand upon someone i trust. It’s about waking up at 4am and having someone who matters next to you. 

There’s something about the way the sun sets, and the laziness of this town. It makes my skin prickle. It makes my shoulders ache down to my fingertips to hold someone. Day trips with a lover. With a best friend. With a confidante. With someone who doesn’t mind that I’ve let paint flake off my skin after I spend hours painting my kitchen cabinets. Someone who doesn’t mind my wild hair. Someone who’ll play with me, the little games. Someone to dance with. 

Someone to kiss, lazy. Someone to kiss fast. Nibbles and tastes. 

I was driving today, passing a converted barn, I spotted a couple. A tan man without a shirt on grabbing the hips of a woman who was standing next to a sedan. He pulled her closer, away from the car with it’s driver door open. He kissed her goodbye, with abandon. His summer skin glowing and her mouth spread in a smile. It was a split second in time. A moment.

It was summer love. It was need and want, and to have and to grab. 

It’s about sweat, and rolling around in messy bedsheets. It’s about wading into pools, and creeks. Rolling up your sleeves to work on a project. About car rides with messy hair. It’s about hands on your waist and thighs. It’s about sneaking a butt squeeze.

It’s about spilling all the love you have for yourself into someone else, and taking the love they spill back. Smiling, testing with greedy hands, with some playful glances.

God damn. It’s summertime. 

[sad-sammy]

Am I enough?

It has been three weeks since my college graduation and, on that day, I felt genuine happiness, excitement, relief, anxiety, and a muddle of other emotions one may get when finally persevering through something that was financially, mentally, physically, and emotionally grueling.

The high I felt quickly became a nose dive into an ocean of my own self made insecurities and superhuman expectations I cannot reach and surpass. It helped boil the vat of self doubt, of what-ifs and I cants. My nights and weekends became days where I would be rolled up in bed feeling sorry for myself. "What happened?" would always be a passing thought as I slept through the time I wanted to utilize to be a better me.

I crossed the finish line and have a degree in my hands with a couple of years of experience in the field. I promised myself to limit my use of "no" and make more use of "yes", yet here I am sitting on my bed, hunched over a laptop.

What reason do I have to feel the way that I do? I am uninspired and, as embarrassing as it may be to admit, I feel unwanted and unacknowledged.

[annawoolf]

Leaving is not enough. You must stay gone. Train your heart like a dog. Change the locks even on the house he’s never visited. You lucky, lucky girl. You have an apartment just your size. A bathtub full of tea. A heart the size of Arizona, but not nearly so arid. Don’t wish away your cracked past, your crooked toes, your problems are papier mache puppets you made or bought because the vendor at the market was so compelling you just had to have them. You had to have him. And you did. And now you pull down the bridge between your houses, you make him call before he visits, you take a lover for granted, you take a lover who looks at you like maybe you are magic. Make the first bottle you consume in this place a relic. Place it on whatever altar you fashion with a knife and five cranberries. Don’t lose too much weight. Stupid girls are always trying to disappear as revenge. And you are not stupid. You loved a man with more hands than a parade of beggars, and here you stand. Heart like a four-poster bed. Heart like a canvas. Heart leaking something so strong they can smell it in the street.

Frida Kahlo (via wakeupnat)

[horrorgrafia]

[onlinecounsellingcollege]

There are some people who could hear you speak a thousand words, and still not understand you. And there are others who will understand — without you even speaking a word.

Yasmin Mogahed (via thatkindofwoman)

[withheartandvoice-deactivated20]