A poem that set my soul free

Your words and hateful comments are tattooed onto the inside of my skin

Begging and pleading to bleed through

To show everyone just how ugly you think I am

My nose, too wide

My eyes, not the right shade of emerald

My lips, too full and too pale for anyone to love

My hips, too wide for your slim hands to grasp

Your love for me was artificial and temporary

But I loved it in the most sincere of ways

“You know Bailey, you only die if you cut vertically”

He says in the snidest of voices

Flashback

He tells me he loves me

Not to be inside my heart forever

But to be inside my thighs momentarily

Moment fades, the only word that slips into the air is “leave”

I just didn’t know he meant forever

Fast forward

He shakes me, bringing me out of my reverie

You’re supposed to be better

Why aren’t you better

Why isn’t the medicine working?

Why can’t I fix you, he

Is asking all these questions

But I don’t have the breath to answer, he

Took all the air out of my lungs and watched them collapse slowly as he

walked away five years ago, he

Told me I would never be happy

Fast forward…again

I see you and smile

I smile not because I’m happy

But because I can finally answer your questions

My lungs have slowly regained the air you sucked out of them

My heart able to beat to a new rhythm

Why can’t you fix me?

I wasn’t ever broken

I just wasn’t put together the way you wanted

Anniversaries

They’re kind of silly when you think of them semantically. Like “congratulations pal, we made it X amount of years! Now let’s do some random activity and have sex all night to celebrate”. Nonetheless, my anniversary with my boyfriend is coming up (5years) and I couldn’t be more excited or giddy about it. 

I feel like 5 years is sort of like a mini milestone and it deserves to be celebrated and praised. Does it make me sound like a spoiled brat if I say we better not just be going to dinner…? Every time we hang out we go to dinner/something of the sense and I want to do something special. No I’m not meaning skydiving, bungee jumping, riding a camel, or anything else ridiculously out of the box and so unlike my boyfriend, but something more than just dinner. 

For anyone that’s celebrated a 5 year anniversary, or any anniversary for that matter, what have you guys done? What have you gotten your significant other? I need help because after 5 years of present giving my ideas are becoming slim-to-none. 

Apologies and Confrontation: The Love-Hate Relationship

 

It’s been almost five years since I’ve seen your name pop up on my phone. Five long years of built up hurt and resentment of the way things ended. Don’t get me wrong, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in a relationship thus far in my life, but I can’t help but think how broken and messed up everything was… Some things that happen in the past are better there, but when I received a message from you on Facebook, it all came flooding back: the bruises, the tears, the constant hollow eyes, everything. After a year of never hearing from you, I kind of assumed an apology was never going to happen. I accepted that it happened, the way it ended, and by all accounts I moved on with my life. But WHY after almost 5 years do you think that sending a casual Facebook apology message is going to make it all better?

You know what though? I’m happy you did. I’m happy that you finally got off your high horse and admitted what you did and how messed up you made me. Back when you left me, I didn’t even recognize the person I had become, but now looking back on it, it was the best possible learning experience that I could have had. Sure it could have been without the beatings, blood, and constant insults, but because of this I am fully aware of how love is supposed to look and how what you did to me was wrong. While I’ll never forget what I went through, I fully believe that I’m a stronger person because of everything that happened between you and I. I finally got to say what I was thinking without the fear of being punished for having an opinion.

So I guess in it’s own twisted way, thank you for leaving me. Thank you for leaving me so broken that I was forced to put myself back together different than I was before because the pieces of me no longer fit together how they used to.

Remodeling.

Hey guys!

So I made the decision to start this blog over…well sort of. I’m not totally deleting everything because it’s nice to see where I started and where I want to go with this. However, I’ve decided to delete some of my old posts and see where this takes me.

It’s kind of refreshing in a way-deleting all of the negative, depressing posts that I made years ago was kind of a way for me to have my final closure with everything that was transpiring at that moment in my crazy, but amazing life. This fresh start is going to be exciting, so I hope you’re all ready for me.

I’m not sure what I want this blog to be about exactly. Whether this be about my life, my goals, stories that I can tell about some of the crazy life experiences I’ve had, advice, etc., but I’m sure I’ll figure it out along the way. Hey, it might just be a montage of things. Isn’t that what life is all about? All these different aspects and points throughout your life all coming together to make it one big moment/experience/learning opportunity.

Here we go… and welcome to my new and improved blog/life outlet!

Roommates. Yes Roommates, not roomies. Because she hasn’t and probably won’t earn that title.

You can’t live with them and you can’t live without them. Whether they’re your best friends, acquaintances, or even better yet: the random roommates that your university pairs you up with based on some light-hearted survey.

Everyone constantly hears horror stories about how people’s roommates have stolen from them, watched them sleep, or some other absurdly insane experience.

Here’s mine:

Now I wouldn’t consider the current predicament that I’m in a horror story, but I definitely wouldn’t say that it’s a love story either. Currently as I’m writing this we haven’t spoken in two days other than what is actually required and she keeps walking passed my door and looking at me thinking I’m not noticing because of my typing. (Make that six times currently, but who’s counting? Oh, now seven)

Room inspections are tonight and I guess maybe that’s one of the reasons the tension is so high. But as I find myself relaxing in my room after just finishing all the cleaning that I’ve done as my contribution, here she comes stomping around saying that she’s tired of doing everything around the apartment. I just kind of looked at her in a confused haze and said “WHAT” in my, probably bitchy, tone.

Here’s the thing about said roommate. I love her to death, but there’s just those little quirks that make her personality and mine clash.

Vanity, or the actual act of being vain, isn’t becoming of anyone. I love confidence. It is anxiety and depression awareness week, so I love the people that are confident and help promote confidence in others. Vanity on the other hand, is completely different. So please for the love of goodness sake PLEASE stop looking at yourself in the mirror and saying how you’re so amazing and that you’re better than everyone else. Also, if you tell me that I need to go to the gym ONE MORE TIME I’m literally going to replace all of your fruit and veggies in the fridge with twinkies, ice cream, and anything else ungodly fattening.

I’d rather be fat and happy than skinny and having to count calories every second of every day and practically starving yourself so people will “accept you”. Every one is beautiful in their own ways.

Make love, not war beautiful roommate of mine.

Rant over.

You know that point in life where you start to feel old?

Not because of the number you associate with, not because of people surrounding you are getting married, and not because you feel old because you’re nearing college graduation. The kind of aging where people you knew growing up in school, because of work, or anything of the sort start dying. You always hear about or see people mourning because people they grew up with are gone and you think that it’ll never happen to you…

until it does.

It all began in my last year of high school/community college. A girl in my microbiology class sat almost directly across from me each day. One class period my teacher announces to the class that Rachel no longer would be joining us. Most thought because the rigorous curriculum was too challenging, no one thought that she would fall asleep driving and wrap her car around a tree.

Another girl that worked at a local restaurant I always go to, and have mutual friends with, Amie, died because of a brain aneurysm suddenly while working. Leaving her family, friends, and boyfriend wondering why.

Then a girl that I grew up with (2nd grade to 8th) committed suicide, along with her boyfriend. She had her struggles, much like everyone else in this world, but no one thought suicide was something she was capable of, something she wanted.

Most recently, I found out that someone I used to work with, Tyler, died in a deadly car crash.

I guess what I’m trying to say is I’m tired of not living my life to the fullest because of thinking there’s “always more time”. I’m tired of knowing people and watching them pass suddenly, unexpectedly.

I’m tired of getting this kind of old.

Death. If I had to sum up the time span between this time last year and the present, “death” is without a doubt the word I would choose. Today’s death though, hit me a lot harder than I had anticipated.

I wish to remember you in the most beautiful light possible, because that’s what you deserve. But, at the present moment all I can manage is the most recent way I saw you, which was you laying literally on your deathbed. Your hair all gone, the pigment in your skin was slowly, but aggressively leaving your body with every passing second, your eyes glazed over. The image with you like this is burned into my memory and preventing every other gorgeous image of you to take the back burner.

I want this post, in no way shape or form, to be a mournful, pity party post because that’s not what you would want, that’s not who you are.

First and foremost, I want to thank you. I want to thank you for sitting next to my mom at that parent function way back in second grade. I want to thank you for giving my mom the best possible friend every waking second of each day ever since that moment. Thank you for not letting my mom kill me when I’m sure she wanted to. Thank you for loving my mom, guiding her, giving her a shoulder to cry on, laughs, and even better memories. But also, thank you for showing me how a best friend is supposed to be treated/treat you. You were sarcastic, witty, beautiful, a wonderful mother to your son, wife, and many more things.

I know I can’t help my mom through your loss, but please don’t ever leave her. Give her things to remember you by each and every day, no matter how small. Don’t ever stop being that little voice inside her head. My mom feels so alone right now, and I don’t know how to help. You were the only person who knew how to fulfill those crevasses.

While the cancer may have won, your fight was tremendous and for that you’re my idol.

Rest easy and fly high