The Story

[thestoryr]

Cure#17

“This isn’t curable”

Thunder rumbled the sky and the rain fell shortly after. The rain was thick now and danced on the leaves of the trees. And I let my feet dangle over the edge of a tall apartment complex. I sat near my phone waiting for something, anything to wake me up that this hurt was over. That this all was a lie and wasn’t happening. I cried, and the sky did too.

“This isn’t curable”

I fell to the porcelain tiles of the living room floor. Convulsing, feeling nothing in my body but jolts of electricity that I could not control. I was both confused and numb and my heart felt like it was twisting in my chest. It felt like it was tearing physically but nothing I can do about it. If I’m supposed to die, can it happen already---- wait no, I can’t die there’s so much I need to do. Wait it would be fine...whats there to live for..wait.... no...wait yes!

“This isn’t curable”

“Fuck-- EVERYTHING!” I threw the glass against the pavement and watched it break. All I do is make mistakes, everything is my fault. This is all your fault! I opened another bottle and sat near the broken pieces. “Everything I do, is not welcomed....my pain not welcomed, my sadness not welcomed, my fucking feelings unwanted. What the fuck is this world you brought me into!?” Stumbling, I fell onto the asphalt and looked at the stars. Suddenly there was no building, there was no bottles, there was no car I drove, and I was home. I was on my couch and the lights were on, and it was 4 in the morning.

“The condition isn’t curable”

“The condition isn’t curable”

“Your situation is neither reversible or----”   Or let me fucking guess, not curable. No medications, no ongoing studies that can help, and no local therapists that even know how to treat this. I let out a big sigh onto my medical papers, stuffed it in my shorts and walked to my car. My second job starts in an hour and I didn’t even get a redbull yet.

“I love you”

Who said that?

“I love you”

Why does that feel different?

“I’ll treat you the way you should’ve been treated”

Why does that feel....real?

“You can tell me anything you want. You may be a little broken, and fixable, but I’ll still love you. You’re you”.

Well thats nice.... I’ll be with you too. If you don’t mind. I mean always... if thats alright.

“Are you okay? Whats wrong? Why are you getting sad?”

“No No! I’m fine! I’m just, happy you’re finally here. That’s all”

I just feel like my whole life has been so toxic. Toxic people, toxic habits, toxic situations and everything. And finally....finally things have changed. I’m changed. Everything has fucking changed and I can breathe and grow. The situation doesn’t need to be cured, I just needed a chance to be strong for myself again. Now I can really grow and be strong. Maybe always with you--- if you don’t mind.

[thestoryr]

Your world. My cross.

Your tears and the echoes of your voice reached the corners of a sleepy district. A residence tucked away from most. Rarely noted but out in the open. How do I stop the demons that claw at your heart and mind? How do I help you fight the insecurities and anxiety that reach the surface and intoxicate my heart and mind?

I held your face and felt the energy of your soul collapse the structures, the support beams, and foundations of everything around us with just a few words. The explosion and fragments of a damaged heart, the weight of your troubles and responsibilities fell onto my shoulders, broke my back, and shattered what was left of my soul. When a man with no more tears left and no more room in the corner to back up into I had to fight back.

“You’re okay. Its okay” I whispered as my spine being cracked under the pressure of holding back that pain. But I knew what I must do-- stay by your side. And stay by your side fighting demons, no matter how much it hurts me too. I willingly and unconditionally will do that. The words you said, will burn onto my skin and my heart for all the rest of my life.

I spoke and fought past those demons and with my whisper and a few words I shouted back. My voice’s turn to echo into the corners of your loud city. A city filled with clouds, fighting, busy people, and beautiful structures of important people whom they praised. I repeated myself, and like a clap of thunder in the clouds, your world shook and I felt I was finally heard.

------

Blue crackles of smoke surrounded you. Like a fog of war after the destruction. You whispered “You really piss me off sometimes” as you smiled through the aftermath. The rain fell-- naturally after the thunder, after the clouds, after the drizzle. We kissed, and I felt your nicotine flavored lips love me, and thanked me without words. Sparing me the destruction or reconstruction of my own tiny world.

Please let me speak to your world. Speak to mine.

When both our worlds collide. I’ll always be at your side

[thestoryr]

The Sun

Silver gates opened and unveiled the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. She’s the same woman I’ve seen, talked to, and loved for years. But she’s a different woman every time. Dressed in velvet red skin that moved gracefully across her skin made me so envious that I couldn’t get any closer than those threads. She looked amazing, she always looks amazing, she’s always everything a man needs in his life and she’s....she’s mine...

Her smile-- warm. Her presence was radiant. It was like being next to the sun. Except that rather than ending your life, it gave me more of it. Her finger tips-- those little rays of sunshine that wrapped around mine were full of life and energy that brought color to my world of midnight. My world-- darkened by coffee, restless nights, flooded emails and data entry melted away by 365 days of light.

The scent of two hefty bowls of noodles sat before us. The smell of garlic secretly rested against our clothes and filled us up. We were in a different land of brown pillars with homes of restaurants between them. Different, but a familiar language filled the ambiance.

Crowded streets, different cultures flowed down the sidewalk. Not one of these people even resembled, mimicked, or could even replicate the woman holding my hand tonight.... every night....365 days of my life.

Captain’s log...Day 1,481, I am still with this woman and have not died of heat stroke or thirst. Somehow I am still alive, in fact, more in love with this ball of light.

Goodbyes are rough, but holding hands and letting go is even harder to do especially coming back to your world of midnight and monochrome. Her scent still hugs my skin and the image of her is burned in my soul from this day.

So as long as this bright sun of mine shines for me, the earth--- like myself will continue to live on. For her, and because of her.

I love my sunshine. 365 days of the year. For as many years.

[thestoryr]

Don’t skip, promise?

A few years ago we made a promise that night drives and empty roads would always give us a sense of freedom--- a sense of escape. A faster car also meant shorter drives and scenes past by like skipping to your favorite part of a video. But it's the in-betweens that count too. That’s where the good stuff is, yknow?-- the build-up.

Fast forward back to the present where we ended up at the same intersection where I swear to the stars themselves we made the same promise 3 years ago. You smiled at me the same way then, you admired me the same way, and loved me the same way and re-filled my cup.

Although the street lights zoomed on by like a tunnel of shooting stars, we were able to admire the empty roads and take note of reckless swerving motorists. The night drive home still has that bittersweet taste but familiar so it’s more of “See you again, soon my love”

Your eyes when they are filled with love they have the power to melt my soul, and bring out a shy side that I had no idea existed. Your presence has a way of moving so quick but I can still admire every second. Much like our night drives so quick, but catching the in-betweens, the little details, the journey to our goal, make it so much more rewarding when we take those things in.

Your slender fingers running against my head, worried about my tired mind and body was comforting and gave me a boost for the drive home. I’ll replay these memories in my head, surely I won’t skip a second. And I hope this time, we won’t. No matter how fast we go in life.

I promise.

[thestoryr]

God, please guide me...

[thestoryr]

Nothing Better

This pre-programmed society that I’m now going to re-integrate with-- a world of black and white. Familiar--- gravity heavier, an illusion of color but monochromatic to the touch, sunshine with no sun; I’ve been here before. Why am I here again? I don’t want to be here again... why is it familiar?

Oh right, because you have been here once or twice, it's just been a while. Don’t worry, it doesn’t take long to adjust. Y’know the way food tastes, the way art looks, the songs that play on your job commute, the loneliness between the walls of your safe haven. An anxiety-filled-brink-of-sadness-groan masked by a short sigh disguised in a stretch before going back to work at your desk at your 40hr job.

I fell from heaven and landed back in the slums beneath the shadow of a rainbow bridge. I’ll replay fantasies and fond memories of us in the comfort of my mind occupied by packed bags and ideas of ways to say “I love you, and you’re the only one I needed”  in crumpled paper balls. I’ll daydream speeding by street lights to see carnivals, fireworks over a city, beach waves dancing on the sand, the brightest shooting star the struck the sky, napping while holding hands, and you-- just you. You-- and the adventures, the adventures were deeper than just the event. It was an adventure of self-exploration. I learned much more about you each day, each month, each year with you. And much about myself-- weaknesses, strengths, things to fix. I remember being such an exploring lone-wolf with no guide, but you’ve guided me properly and built me. What a strangely familiar feeling this is. I don’t want to be here. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.

I’ll start to write more, listen to more music, and go back to all art that escaped the sepia tone, monochrome, and colorless mundane pre-programmed world that I’ve been cast into. I’ll write about you, listen to your music-- draw, watch shows about things that you enjoyed, and work on me with you by my side...in my head- in my heart.

Some of us are in the dark, but only a few will look up to see the stars.

Honestly and truly there is--- Nothing Better Than You.

Postal Service - “Nothing Better”

[thestoryr]

Sky High.

Her energy surrounded me like a heat wave. Never before have I felt this kind of love. The love that will hold your face and run its fingers across your face and heal every scar.

The week was long and merciless, countless hurdles and wars fought in the background. Demons of those events following me and robbing me of sleep. I closed my eyes and felt her palm hold my face. And instantly those shadows melted away and cleaned the filthy lens I saw through. Behind the smoke I saw her face; smiling and looking right into my heart as she did many years ago.  

Our love forever has lived on.

This chapter of my life; love and tragedy, written down on silver platinum mp3s.

Rewritten as a masterpiece played by angelic symphonies.

She held me---Time truly stopped. And the noise on the streets, the stress from work, the stress from finance, the worries of my future exhaled a ghost that no longer haunted me.

If I could touch a star for each time she touched my heart.

I’d have the whole night sky in my arms.

Seeing her happy. Seeing her parade in her accomplishments. Seeing her pile through things with a positive mind gives me great determination.

This is love. This is love. This is love. This is love.

If this is what its like to be this high on love, don’t ever bring me down.

[thestoryr]

It fills you with determination!

[matialonsorphoto]

more on my instagram @matialonsor

[psych2go]

Credit: Unknown

[thestoryr]

ty Psych2go

[mcavoy]

CHRISTOPHER ROBIN dir. Marc Forester 

[psych2go]

Read Article Here: 5 Ways to Help You Stop Overthinking - Psych2Go 

Follow @psych2go for more 

[just-shower-thoughts]

“With all due respect” is the professional version of “no offense”

[thestoryr]

Spoken without words.

I’ve only heard God speak to me a few times.

This time will probably be the last.

Am I scared or sad?

“Oh grieving wolf wailing to the shadows...Do you fear the echo or the reply?”

[thestoryr]

10/31/2018

When you hear your heart shatter.

When everything you have seen in color goes monochrome. 

It’ll be like this for a long while.

[thestoryr]

When you howl---

It’s really lonely doing everything by myself. I do groceries, chores, work, and just literally everything alone. I know I’m not the alone one but... I guess I’m so used to having another voice, another you kind of just following you around. I’ve become so focused that I don’t know whether that voice or me is entirely gone or I’ve tuned it out.

But I really miss the assistance. The first year with DPID I wish it was gone, I wish it never happened to me, and I wish I wasn’t always tired. I wish I wasn’t always anxious and exhausted from teaching two people a skill.

The deeper side of counseling that only you can talk to yourself about is gone, makes me feel even more alone. It’s not a bad alone-- just quiet, and welcomes more thoughts that aren’t supposed to be there.

Oh shadow, when you howl do you fear the echo or the reply?

[thestoryr]

Cloud’s Castle

The smell of newly cleaned wood and plaster created evidence of a newly fixed up home. I ran my fingers along the vanilla coffee walls and lifted my head at the tall ceiling where a track light patrolled over the long hallway leading to our new room.

The room was mainly occupied by a bed of clouds and a large opened window to a veil of leaves. My desk at arm’s reach of the window pane gave me peace, from the anxiousness and excitement. Her lips met the rim of a polished wine glass filled with the sweetest grape, and I opted for a hard mixed drink. She smiled with excitement, but waves of overwhelmingness came in small waves of new responsibilities. The weight of those thoughts rested upon my shoulders as well. Her health was just as important as an organ in my body, without it running well my body would surely fall apart.

She laid comfortably on the clouds in the middle of our bedroom, and the vapor shrouded the sheets and the light from her phone she buried her face into. I sighed a ghost of smoke onto my monitors that I buried my problems into. Her and I aren’t too different after all. We fight our own battles but together, both in silence and on speaking terms.

-------------->

“We’re home!” She brightly smiled at me before exiting out of my car with the door that weighed as much as much as our stress and responsibilities. I stopped her and pointed toward the skyline of all the buildings we saw from the garden on the hill. The clouds waltzed over the city while the moon guided them with its light. I looked at both my palms feeling like it was yesterday I was alone fighting my fears, anxiousness, and panic attacks. Thinking of these things made the skies ominous and gray, the clouds look like boulders ready to crush my city, and the moon like a meteorite ready to finish the job. I reached toward her slender fingers and the skies became a dark blue sheet with silver freckles. I looked at her silky smooth skin, and touched her face and the ground beneath her glowed through the night. Her hair hugged her body, and shortly after so did I. We haven’t hugged like this in a few weeks; holding each other with little thoughts in our head about school, work, bills, groceries, friendships or any stress of that matter. It was at this moment where not only I realized that there is a deeper meaning to loving someone. I believed I loved deeply, but at this point I loved and still love so deeply that physically if we were apart it would be very challenging to carry on with life. Emotionally if were distant as well as physical would be deathly to my health in all ways.

“I love you so much, thank you for all that you do for us” I whispered, looked deeply past the blue hues of her contacts right to her brown eyes.

“I know you do” She patted me on the back, and gave me a smile. “I love you too babe” she walked down the hill toward the entrance of the cloud’s castle. She walks ahead with a goal in mind, she walks ahead because she knows the consequences of staying still and doing nothing, she knows the course of the waves in the ocean and she takes action before it acts on her. She’ll carry on life with or without me; but I’m blessed to know she’s mine. She knows the stars, the moon, and the city we left behind will always be there, much like how we’ll always be there for each other. But the moon doesn’t need to tell the monochrome sky those things. The clouds continue dancing, the stars continue to shine, and the city never sleeps behind the garden home inside the cloud’s castle.