There was history in ballet

before you ever put on pointe shoes.

There was history in writing

before you ever picked up a pen.

There was history in language

before you ever spoke.

There was history in This hallway

before you ever walked through it.

you get that numb feeling

it slowly sinks in

they don't care, they don't care,

they never did

maybe what they said

maybe a word or an expression on their face

made it seem like they cared

like you did

and you clung to that word so heavily

that you molded it into a sort of strap you could hang from and

roll it around in your hands until it felt smooth

smooth and reassuring

don't worry, they do care

they're just b u s y right now

they're just t i r e d

they're just w o r k i n g

Sometimes, silence is also an answer.

It took me some time to understand this, waiting and waiting and waiting for that time where my "perfect" person would finally realize that they were also in love with me and everything would work out the way I wanted it to in my head.

I was in the middle of a depressive episode when I realized that A) that person I was waiting on to text me was never going to say the words I wanted to hear from them an B) if they ever did, it would be too late. Yes, of course the chemistry was wonderful. Yes, the way that they laugh when they're drunk is adorable. And yes, I would carry a box of heavy books down the stairs for them at night to their car simply because I thought it was ~romantic~. But, as my friend helped me to see, if they cause you more pain than happiness, they aren't worth your time. Period. I know this post is slightly cringy and will be embarrassing for me in about two weeks but right now, if anyone out there needs to read this, I hope it reaches you.

Stop waiting for them.

Cause they aren't sitting by their phone waiting to hear from you.

I'm sorry, but it's the truth.

I know I'm never going to get a text back from you and that's okay.

I just wanted to text you to see how you're doing.

Hear your laugh another time, listen to one of your famous stories

and I don't give the best hugs because you do

and I don't give the best advice because you do

and right now you'd tell me to eat a snack and let it work itself out

I just wonder how, such a beautiful person can be gone

I don't really know how to write a song, I was just hoping

you'd be there tonight to talk about life with me

And I know you didn't mean to leave

but I was just ready to go when we got the news

had to choose but we were miles from you

in bed with all those various machines

But I know you didn't mean to leave

you just got places to be, people to see

Laughing with everyone you meet

They couldn't keep you down, busy with jet plane energy

you've got places to be, people to see

Flight attendant of the century

I'll always see you in my dreams

I know the three of you are laughing like old pals again

And I'll love you from right here, don't forget me

don't forget me, don't forget me

cause I know that you have places to be, people to see

hey J it's time to leave

places to be, people to see

there's other people here visiting

I just wish you'd answer me

when I joke and say your hair looks great

but I got too scared to say it outloud

so I said I love you and I left

knowing that I'm never going to get a text back from you, and that's okay.

"Are you always this difficult?"

"Are you always this persistent?"

"I do happen to have a gorgeous woman in front of me right now, you can't expect me to just stand here...hands in my pockets...doing nothing."

"Why do you HAVE to kiss me, though?"

"Well, no, I don't HAVE to do anything. I want to kiss you, to hold you, snuggle up with you on the couch while you slowly scootch closer to me because you're scared of invading my space. I want you here with me, in this apartment, in that cat sweater and those jeans and boots, looking all awkward and cute. It's so adorable when you try to be mad."

"I'm not mad."

"Uh huh. Well I'm convinced."

"I just...don't like that you make me feel things."

"Oh gosh, I make her feel things. How horrible."

"I'm just not...used to that."

"You mean you aren't comfortable with that."

"Sure."

"And it scares you that you might actually like me."

"Sure."

"Because at any given moment I could break your heart and you wouldn't be prepared and you don't want to feel that kind of pain again."

"...Yeah"

"So you're not even gonna give me a chance to like you back? That's so unfair."

"No, I will, I just need-"

"Me to kiss you."

"Brandon-"

"Right now."

"But-"

"Jenn?"

"Yes?"

"Please do me a favor and shut up."

There is something funny about the way things slowly resolve themselves.

You don't know it in the moment, those sad, lonely moments when you're crying in the kitchen at 2 am because your anxiety is eating you alive and you can't sleep.

But things do have a way of turning out better every time.

You just have to give in your energy.

You just have to keep trying, even when things don't feel ready.

Push open the door even when you don't want to welcome anything in.

Beer in hand

I walked down the steps

And I realized

With a big smile

My old self would be proud of me

now.

You look over at her, she's wearing her hair down, sitting on the bar stool next to you in a white tank top and staring at her tea like it wronged her. She made a face after taking a sip and lets you try it.

You secretly love it when she lets you take a sip of her drinks.

To you it tastes fine, but you make a face anyways to show mutual support.

She's wearing eyeliner again, just the wings, and for some reason it looks amazing on her...