Alyssa

Welcome to my life

[blossomfully]

“Before you kiss someone for the first time, just wait. Take a second to look at them. They are so new, so unfamiliar. Right now you don’t know how they taste, how their hands will press against your skin, how they’ll breathe. You won’t see them like this again. Look at them wanting - the apprehension in their eyes. They don’t know either. In their mind you are uncharted territory. Isn’t that special? Keep it. That’s how you’ll never lose them. Every so often afterwards look at them through these eyes. Don’t lose that wonder. Don’t lose the spark.”

— S.Z. // Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #197

[gigiarielle]

[unbasic]

(18+)

[thiscreativelyf]

Erikson’s New Stage

To others, I have my life figured out. An MD/PhD program. I want to be a doctor but be able to do research in Neuroscience, specifically adding to research that makes diagnosing mental illnesses possible with only an fMRI. Their eyes go wide and they say, “Wow, you’ve really thought a lot about it! You’re so lucky!”

But that’s the thing. I have thought a lot about it. Sometimes, maybe, I think too much about it. I am plagued by a constant problem. There are different parts of me that pull me every which way, questioning what to do with my life. There is a musician. A writer. A doctor. A researcher. 

And I can’t make them all happy. “Make music and writing a hobby! You’ll have plenty of time!” But I know what’s to come. Undergrad is hard enough and I can’t make time for those things, but medical school? That will make it even harder. I won’t be able to work on my hobbies until I’m well over 30. 

That’s eleven years. Eleven years to strangle the musician and the writer. Eleven years to make it so that all the creativity in my body will be trapped inside. All of the muses in the world will be wasted on me.

There’s a psychological idea of self-actualization, penned by Abraham Maslow. Self-actualization means that one is able to strive for their best in whatever they are talented in. This is not to say that my self-actualization will be hindered. An MD/PhD is a big deal. But for some, perhaps there are different paths to take. There are different things we can do to reach actualization, and this leads us to a problem. We must choose.

When I think of the blank slate that is my life, life after the here and now, it’s simply a void. I feel as though I’m going to fall every time I look into it. I’m terrified. What parts of myself do I let live? What parts of myself do I let succeed? What will I give up?

[thiscreativelyf]

He was an adventure. Not the kind where you climb mountains, but the kind where you sit on a beach in some foreign place, wondering why it took you a plane ride to realize how beautiful the world was.

A.S., Rewind

[thiscreativelyf]

There's no one in my life right now who I could ever imagine myself with. When I think about that, it seems sad and lonely but, really, this is the break that I've been asking for. I've had my time to play and have come to realize that that life may not be for me. Perhaps I'm more into monogamy, which is great. That's hard to come by around here. And that's okay. To wait for the right one, it requires just that: waiting. It may seem like life is rushing by, but really we must cherish every single day, whether we stand by someone or we stand alone. At this time in my life, I stand alone, but I stand tall. I hold my head up high because I know that I respect myself and I respect my hopes for the future. I have no time to waste on someone who will come to be insignificant to me, who will only teach me that I should have just given myself the time to focus on me. It seems scary, being surrounded by so many people, not seeing a hint of forever in any of them, but these things do take time. I have only ever been in love with someone I have come to know as a friend. For me, attraction occurs over time, so maybe the next person who comes into my life will surprise me greatly. It surely has happened before. Hate turned to love, and I experienced the greatest love I have ever known, the most passionate, the most independent, the most worthy. That feeling was one that I would have loved to have known my whole life, and maybe I will. They say the same love does not come by twice, so maybe the next great love I come by will be more than that. More passion, more intertwining our lives, more devotion, more loving looks than I have ever known what to do with. No matter the case, I know that one day I may spend my life with someone great. How do I know this? Because I know I will never settle less than I am worth. I deserve to have someone who will go out of their way for me, because I know I will do the same. They say we find love in unexpected places, so why bother to look? Let us just wait and watch as the wave that is life takes us to shore and shows us who we were meant to walk with for the rest of our lives.

[blossomfully]

What if I never love anyone the way I loved him?“ I asked the space. “You won’t,” it replied. “You never love the same way twice.”

S.Z. // Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #212 // But that doesn’t mean you won’t love again. (via blossomfully)

[blossomfully]

“I wanted to call him,“ she said, ” just to see how he was doing. But you can’t do that. You can’t talk to someone who held your heart in their palm and pretend it never happened. “I wanted to ask why it was so hard to get over him. I wanted to know if he felt pain like knives in his sides like I did. I wanted to know if he ever felt lonely when he listened to music, or if things reminded him of the memories we made. “I wanted to say that I couldn’t remember the sound of him saying my name anymore and sometimes that scared me but I knew it was important, and that our last kiss wasn’t anything like in the movies, that it was so brief the wind had swept it away before I’d had a chance to commit it to memory. I wanted to explain how now I’d forgotten everything apart from the way he made me feel, like I could do anything, like love wasn’t just for perfect people, like love could also be for me. “So my god I wanted to call him, but instead I sat on the floor and drank shots like they were tea. To be honest I don’t know if I still loved him, but then I suppose you have to love someone to miss them like that; like hell, like absolute-fucking hell.

S.Z. // Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #218 (via blossomfully)

[blossomfully]

“If you said you missed me,” she says, “and I told you I missed you too, do you think we could do it over?” “We could relearn each other’s names and I could tell you about my childhood. You could get bored of my stories all over again and I could get mad like I always used to.” “And I’m not saying we’d work.” She murmurs, “I know that we probably won’t.” “But logic doesn’t mean I don’t miss you,” she says. “And right now I don’t give a damn about what logic has to say. Just tell me you miss me and I swear I’ll come running. Tell me you miss me and we can fall all over again.”

S.Z. // Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #124 (via blossomfully)

[blossomfully]

“You still love him,” he says, half question, half demand. “Of course I don’t.” She replies. But then part of her wonders whose arms she’d run into if she still had the choice. “You still think of him,” he whispers, when she’s turned off the lights and lies there trying not to give her thoughts away. “Go to sleep,” she says. But when her eyes are closed and she drifts between consciousness, she swears it’s his voice she hears and his fingers tracing the rise and fall of her ribs. “Do you miss him?” He asks. “No.” And it’s not a lie, not really. But part of her still remembers how he made her smile and how she buried her 2am laughter into his chest. Part of her still questions the possibility of seeing him again, and she thinks, maybe just once, for old time’s sake. “Would you go back?” He finally asks. And she can’t help herself. “Yes.” She says, “yes.”

Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #73 (via blossomfully)

[thiscreativelyf]

When our two week period was done, he broke up with me. He still loved me, but I meant too much to him for our relationship to turn sour. He wanted to end things before all our pent up tension and unhappiness exploded into a horrible break-up. I was a fucking mess. I would randomly cry at impromptu times. I would start tearing up in my Calculus class because it made me think of how much he loved math and how I liked to brag to him that my teacher absolutely loved me. I would cry doing my homework and being around people because I only wanted to be around him. I would constantly take snap chats and post them to show how well I was fucking doing compared to him. It was like a war between the two of us. Our stories went past 100 seconds on most days. We were passive aggressive and ridiculous because we still loved each other. It was a coping mechanism for not being able to talk to each other.

And he’s still not done with me. I still love him.

[thiscreativelyf]

Everyone is falling apart around me. I am worried. I don’t want to fall yet. Your eyes are on me. You’re worried for me, I’m worried for others. We will not become them. We will survive life. Together.

[elvenforestgirl]

[thiscreativelyf]

I’m upset at the things I was told I would have, and I never will. I always dreamt of that relationship when we would fall into each other’s arms and be ok and feel content, and now I know that this only lasts 7 days and is known as a “honeymoon.”

I am too selfish to love when I am stressed, and I know he is too. I’m not angry at him for that, but at the consecutive “them,” that told me love conquered all, when really it was just like any other emotion that comes and goes with passing time, that may be felt intensely or scarcely, depending on the day.

I know he cannot offer his heart when every other part of him is aching, but I wish for once we could defy the laws of this world and leave to a place where “stress” was not something to be felt, but something far, far away, so distant it was negligible and forgotten.

But right now it is real, it is here, and we are fighting over money, choosing not to look at each other as we pass, finding comfort in the walls that separate us, keeping tense when we are confronted.

The lie is real, and it is here.

I’m not so sure love is real.

[thiscreativelyf]

Why are my thoughts sour? When I'm a good girl? A smart girl? A level-headed girl? A calm girl? Why are my thoughts racing? And why is my heart beating? And why is my brain processing? And why am I here? Why am I alive? And what do I do? And why is it so important to be alive? Why is it not important to be dead? Why is death the end? And why do we think God exists? And why do we think He loves us? And why so we kill people? And why do we tear our world apart? And why were we created When all we do is tear the world apart?

[thevvinterbeard]

Shutting up and selling out Its not what you’d think about You hit the scene And think it’s clean But draft your thoughts Always under someone’s watch

The boys and girls don’t want to hear They need to listen to mother dear They’d much rather jump And you’ll hope for a bump But you’ll...

[thiscreativelyf]

Do you have any siblings

I dont!

[thiscreativelyf]

I believe infatuation I believe lust But I don't think love exists And I don't see the point Why is everyone obsessed And why is life about finding love The real feeling is all around us In the way your step squishes the ground In the spring when the grass is damp And the flowers are growing And life is all around Live for the feeling Stop searching for it