So, in Quotations..

your new favorite depressing writing blog, where I scribble down my daily struggles and turn them into something minorly poetic.

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i fucked up, i know.

a thousand years of sadness poured into five words. 

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it's not love if you're not willing to put the other person's happiness before your own

someone who’s love was taken for granted 

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a guide to letting go of some of the pain.

i lost someone dear to me on the 18th. i didn’t know them personally, yet they meant so much to me. kim jonghyun was an extraordinary human being that i wish i could have back. he seemed so happy and positive, yet he was the complete opposite. he hated himself more than any anti could. he believed so low of himself. i don’t believe it was that jonghyun couldn’t go on living, i believe it’s that he didn’t want to. when you’re unhappy, you’ll do anything you have the energy to to fix it. so, jonghyun did. i’ve cried a lot, that’s expected. when i found out though, i couldn’t cry. i was confused. it took it a while to set in before i was able to understand what was going on, but after i had it took around an hour for the tears to let up. i felt sick. i didn’t want to move. or eat. or do anything. so i didn’t. i sat and i cried. it made me feel better for a while, of course, but afterwards i needed something else. anything. my sister then suggested this to me, and it helped so much. it helped so much that i wanted to share it with the others around me as soon as i could.

find a quiet spot where there’s no sound. if you can’t find somewhere completely quiet, find somewhere with the least amount. sit down somewhere inside the room or wherever you are and sit cross legged. close your eyes. picture jonghyun. send him everything you’re feeling in the moment, questions that you want answers to, things you need to say. you can say it out loud or in your head, whatever works. i find it helps for me the most when i say it out loud but it may be the opposite for you. whatever you do, focus on sending it towards him. cry if you need, but remember to breathe. when you’ve finally got it all out, you’ll know. it’ll feel like a heaviness has been lifted off you. not the sadness we’d like to leave, of course, but the pain you’re feeling. 

this helped me so much. even if you’re skeptical or don’t always trust things like this, just give it a try. remember, i love you no matter who you are and my messages are always open. keep breathing.

bling bling is jonghyun <3

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life is full of falling in love with people you can't have

someone lost and waiting to be found

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I’m Sorry, I Was Just Scared

Do you ever just... undeniably and completely miss someone? Not sexually or romantically, but you just miss their presence. It makes your heart beat faster every time you see them. Your mouth run dry. Your breath catch in your throat and you just want to say “hi” but you can’t. You don’t know what’s stopping you, honestly, yet you do. Sometimes when you pass them, they look at you. They look at you like they want you to say something, but you don’t. Because they’ve moved on. They have other, better in the long run really, friends. Friends that won’t leave when they get scared; friends that will give them their undivided attention, and listen to them and only them, just like they deserve. When we were friends, I didn’t dedicate enough to them. I thought they were okay because they had someone permanent in their life. But then the permanent turned into someone temporary, and I wasn’t there for them

because I was simply afraid.

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temporary love

do you ever just think, “i wish we all just knew who we were meant to be with so we wouldn’t have to waste our time getting hurt over and over again.” like yes, that would be absolutely amazing, but i somewhat think it would be burdening; because then love wouldn’t matter as much. not all love in general, but short love. temporary love. the love you know won’t last, but you still pour everything you have into. the love that stays with you at night but leaves in the morning, because it’s the love that comes when it’s needed. not when you want it. that. that kind of love wouldn’t matter anymore, and i believe that’s the most important type of love.

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every single normality doesn’t deserve you.

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i don't want to be with him but i... "but you don't want to be without him

two broken souls that are slowly being rebuilt

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I loved you, y’know? I still love you. I remember the first time I saw you, and at that time I didn’t know that I was going to be falling head over heels in less than a year later. You were beautiful, that’s undeniable. Many males in our grade called you a “sex symbol.” At that time, I had no interest. I thought you were just someone that everyone could fuck with, God knows we have enough of those. I didn’t care to ask how you were, or what you had been doing. I didn’t bother to try and see into your daily life. That was up until I got sat directly across from you in our Study Hall of seventh grade, and had an actual conversation with you. At that point, I didn’t know more than your name. Now I know much more about your life than I care to admit. Back then you could tell stories for days. All your ups and downs, the struggles you went through on a daily basis. You made me feel like I was alive again. Like I actually had something to live for. 

The first time I went to your house was somewhat awkward. I walked into a dark, small house, one girl laying in your bed and another sitting beside her in the floor. At that time your bed was sitting on a broken box spring, so it was sinking in towards the middle of the mattress. We’ll name the female in her bed Yulie. Yulie was always something else. A kind soul, none the less, but a fucked up one. She wasn’t hard to read and extremely desperate for attention, unsurprising. Yulie sat up when we walked in a started rolling a cigarette. That was the first time I had ever put my mouth even remotely close to anything on fire. That was also what started my smoking addiction.

The second time I went to your house, we brought another friend with us. We’ll call her Riley. Riley was not my favorite human of all time. She was vain and conceded and she liked all attention on her, much like Yulie but in a different sense. Riley had the power to get all attention on her. She was popular and stuck up but for some reason, was still friends with me. At first, me, Riley, and -we’ll name you Yuna - Yuna were like three pees in a pod. We loved each other, or so I thought, and we were known as the iconic duo of our grade. My popularity levels started to rise because of Riley and Yuna, and we just worked.

The third time I met your mother. She was something else, we’ll name her Brook. Brook ended up becoming a much larger part of my life than earlier anticipated. Brook nicknamed me something because I knew how to work the radio and she didn’t, we’ll say that nickname is MJ. The first time I met your mother was amazing because she was so beautiful and smart and funny and loud and just well rounded. But it also stirred up something I didn’t know I was hiding inside of me. The first time I met your mother was when I became an alcoholic. 

The sixth time I came to your house, we got drunk like always. It was illegal considering I was a minor, but I thought nothing of it at the time. My grades were plummeting, the only thing on my mind was smoking, drinking, and you. At that time I didn’t realize it was because I was in love with you. I thought it was normal to think about your best friend every second of the day, yet I didn’t think of Riley like I did you. I didn’t adore every word that left her mouth or coo at every cute face she would make.The sixth time I came to your house was the first time we ever kissed, and it was also my first kiss. I remember it all too clearly, even though I was 100% not sober. “I know you’ve taught a few of your past boyfriends how to kiss but this still may be an odd request. But I just don’t know how so I may need to in the future. Can you teach me how to kiss?” I believe that’s the moment I slipped off the ledge I had been holding back from for so long. I believe that’s when I fell in love completely.

The eighth time I came to your house was your birthday party. Your boyfriend was there, who I disliked majorly, and although I didn’t agree, I stood back and watched. At that point, I thought my alcohol tolerance level was pretty damn good, so I obviously didn’t think anything of it when I downed half a bottle of blue colored vodka that came from a small liquor store in the center of town. I can still taste it if I try hard enough. How it didn’t phase me at all going down besides that slight sting. I ended up mixing it with whiskey, and lord have mercy was that a night. I threw up all over your carpet and tried to clean it up, becoming an ongoing joke that still hasn’t ended (”I’ve got it guys!”) and ending up in the bathtub hollering for Yuna’s boyfriend to come so I could apologize for being a cunt.

You eventually moved out of your house and in the one across the street. Although I don’t remember the number of which times I went any longer, I know it was a bit. The fourth time in the new house I met your most recent ex (now), and we’ll name him Jacob. Jacob was peculiar, but everyone loved him. He was the type of person that was a pure happy virus. Everyone couldn’t not love him. I couldn’t not love him. And I did. I made the mistake of starting to fall in love with Jacob. I’m extremely lucky that it never completely happened. That he left before I could make that mistake again. But what scared me is he knew it was happening. We would share glances behind Yuna’s back that sometimes Riley would catch when she wasn’t sucking face with her boyfriend, Tyson. He would stare at me for minutes on end, and I would stare back, totally lost in everything he had to offer. After a while, us three ended up being in some weird three way relationship that none of us understood - not saying polyamory is odd - at all. I was the one that kept them happy mentally and Yuna romantically, and they were the ones that kept each other happy physically and romantically. Me and Yuna obviously didn’t stop all physical contact, we still made out here and there, but nothing too extreme. Me and Jacob never got closer than holding hands or cuddling.

The first time you came with me to my dad’s was something else. My mother and father are divorced, and both of them have gotten remarried. My father’s wife has three kids, two girls and one boy. One of the girls is a year younger than me and is absolutely stunning, and looks twice her age. We’ll call her Victoria. Victoria was struggling with her sexuality then. She didn’t know if she liked females or if she was strictly straight, so without thinking I volunteered Yuna to help figure it out. Yuna was not pleased by the idea at first, but after some persuading she agreed. We all three sat in a circle on the floor and I remember the conversation like it was yesterday. “How are we going to do this..?” “I don’t know! You and Yuna kiss first and then I’ll kiss her, that’s the only way I’ll do it.” Being the person I was at the time, I refused for a good solid twenty minutes. I didn’t want to kiss her by forced and I wanted to do it on my own time, by my own standards. Sometimes life doesn’t work out the way you want it to, though. I gave in as well. I was sitting on my heels under me before, so I could easily spring up. Yuna was to my right, so I grabbed her face and smashed our lips together, and we kissed for quite a while. That day, Victoria had her first kiss by a girl, and I sat awkwardly and watched. By the time she left for that weekend, the household was convinced me and Yuna were dating because Yuna stated so to get my little brother to leave her alone, and instead of denying it after being asked countless times, we held up the lie for quite some time.

Lies usually come back to bite us in the ass though, that’s inevitable. As much as I’d like to continue using more than enough detail, everything comes to an end, sometimes not a happy one. Jacob ended up leaving us for his past baby mama, and me and her started fading. I loved her, but I knew she didn’t love me. Our relationship was nearly completely one sided in the feelings aspect, no matter how much it hurts me to say it. I ended up cutting you off on February 9th, 2017, and it was easily one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, irony implied. Every time I would see your face, something in the back of my head would whisper “she doesn’t love you. She’ll never love you.” I couldn’t do it anymore. No matter how much I wanted to. How much I wanted to stay and spend the rest of my life with you, I just couldn’t anymore.

That’s where it should’ve ended too, but it’s not. Six months later I came back. Six months of thinking about you every single day. Six months of me wanting you to randomly call me up and tell me you loved me and you wanted me to come back. But it never happened. I reached out because I didn’t stop loving you, and you didn’t reach out because you never loved me. 

It’s been a few months since I stepped back into one of my personal Hells, and not much has changed. Yuna has another boyfriend, a complete fucking dick that breaks shit when he gets angry, - which is often regarding his bipolar disorder -  and I’ve been left to third wheel again. Although, I think I’m okay with it. We don’t talk often anymore, and when we do it’s usually short conversations. I feel like if I don’t get as close to you as I once was, maybe, just maybe, I can make it go away.

But that’s a lot to ask for, right? One’s first love doesn’t simply just disappear. 

- someone who needs a whole lot of healing

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you deserve the world but the world doesn't deserve you.

unknown

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You

you. you. although I never knew I would need you, here I am. I never expected it to be you, even remotely. we’re so different. we grew up in completely different parts of our town. different friend groups, different mind sets. different conversations, different experiences. yet here we are. together. you came to me asking for help. needing help. people don’t understand you. they don’t understand you or what you’ve been through. they understand the outside of you, the shell they’ve been taught to know. it’s not their fault, but it’s not yours either. everyone is scared to show the true versions of themselves, especially when it’s so different from the social formalities that they were forced into year after year. you came to me because you needed help, but also because you knew you were like me. I have a different way of thinking about the world. the most simple way to put it is that my way of thinking is just deeper. I take more things into account and I analyze every little thing. I study people’s habits and I get into their heads, even unintentionally. I do this so I can help, not so I can use anything I learn against them. I’m everyone’s helping hand. the “mother” you could say. I listen to problems and I fix them, that’s my job. and I enjoy it. helping people is what I live for. it makes me feel like I’m needed and I’m not completely useless. but with this deep way of thinking, an extra bundle of emotion also comes into existence as well. happiness. sadness. anger. love. take each of those normal emotions and multiply it by ten, and you have me. you have me but you also have you. love was what sparked our conversation in the beginning. you loved one person and you were beginning to fall for another, so you wrote all your feelings down on a piece of paper and sent it to the latter. then you got scared. you got scared of him laughing or not understanding. of him throwing your feelings to the side like they were nothing, like they didn’t matter. you were scared so you came to me. you came to me and I helped. we talked for a while. sending long paragraphs back and forth and just talking. putting everything we know and don’t out into the open for the world to see, even though it was just us witnessing the conversation. for the first time in my few years of being alive, I realized I wasn’t alone. I realized that there were others who thought the same as me. there were others that went through the same struggles. I could tell you were relieved as well. you finally found someone you could confine in. you reached out needing me, and we stepped back in needing each other.