dear fucking world,

i have some things to tell you. i got a journal of things i’ll never say aloud.

dear fucking world, here are the thoughts i have that are more tangled than my earbuds.

sometimes i am just so done.

sometimes i just want someone i can talk to. someone who can just face me, our knees touching, and listen to all my thoughts i keep bottled inside me pour out. who won’t interrupt me. who won’t judge me. who’ll hug me if they know i need it.

sometimes i just want to hug someone for what will seem like forever, holding the hug like i’m holding onto my dreams and childhood.

sometimes i just, not hate, but not really like myself. sometimes i just hate all the hours i waste while i could be, i don’t know, changing the world.

sometimes i look at my knotted hair, my eyes that aren’t framed with long, thick, curled lashes, my flat nose, my cracked lips, and my round face. i look at my hands, chipped nails and the hangnails that have been picked at whenever i’m stressed. and i wonder why i look like such a mess.

sometimes i wish for people to know that no matter how happy i look on the outside, it’s just a facade.

sometimes i wonder why my life’s so boring.

sometimes i think i might never achieve anything extraordinary in my life.

sometimes i wish to be someone i’m not.

sometimes i wish the world could just end.

sometimes i want to just scream at the top of my lungs and let all my anger out.

sometimes i hate myself for eating so much and exercising so little.

sometimes i look in the mirror, and i ask myself, “why am i such a fucking mess.”

sometimes i cry myself to sleep.

sometimes i cover myself in my blankets and wish that the world was just that small, just me and my bed.

sometimes i look at the people around me and wonder why they look so put together. even though everyone’s a mess in some way or the other.

sometimes i just wanna say, “fuck this. fuck all of it. i’m so fucking done.”

sometimes i pretend everything’s alright, and i am in bliss.

sometimes.

sometimes.

sometimes.

dear fucking world,

i can’t change the way i look.

dear fucking world,

i can’t be who you want me to be.

dear fucking world,

i can’t change who i am.

but dear fucking world,

i want you to know.

all of these thoughts? they’re true. they’re painful, real, thoughts i have.

but dear fucking world,

i want you to know something.

i still love myself. i do. i really do.

so dear fucking world,

there you go. i’ve said it. my thoughts, my pain, my hurting, my insecurities.

i hope you’re happy, too.

sincerely,

___________

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Dear L,

I first called you low class but then I realized that it was actually an insult to those who have a semblance of class. When we first met I wanted to be your friend and ignored all the red flags. I chose not to question why you shut somebody out simply because she did not disclose all the details of her PRIVATE relationship with her boyfriend. You even confessed to me about how you read her diary.

Then there was the relationship with your boyfriend. You said he hit you which was absolutely wrong of him. Yet, I was around both of you enough to know that you used to deliberately pick fights with him to provoke him. On many of the instances, I agreed with his side of things moreso than yours. The abuse was a two way street, he was physical to a degree but you were emotional and often verbally hit him where it hurt. I am not condoning what he did to you but I can see why it happened.

All of a sudden you turned against me because I did not fully disclose information about myself that I was too vulnerable to share. It all started because I had a crush on somebody that I knew deep down did not return my feelings. I should have never mentioned to you that I liked someone. When I did, I should have told you that I did not feel like disclosing the details such as his name. It was cowardly of me to make up a name and then let the lie spin. But don’t you think it is a little bit off the wall to let it fester the way you did? Is this a lie to destroy someone’s life over?

You did exactly that. I welcomed you into my core group of friends and one by one, you turned them against me. They stopped inviting me to things. It all started when you invited a group to your family’s cabin and excluded me. A few years before I let you into my life, I would have assumed that there were two weddings I would have not only been invited to but would have stood up in. Because of your poison, I had to sit on the sidelines at one wedding and watch you walk down the aisle in a bridesmaid’s dress. The other wedding, I was not even extended an invitation. It really stung when I went to a comedy club with my parents and saw you in a group with people whom in the past I would have been extended an invitation to join. Was my lie really that unforgivable?

Yes, I was wrong to write that book and self-publish it. I should have kept it in a drawer for a while and then rework it with an objective eye. Even though it was in the past, I should have seen that I should not have gone full disclosure. But you did not have the right to publish those two one star “reviews,” especially the second one, where you spun all your lies and half truths about me.

For your information, I did earn that Master’s degree. Full scholarship just like I told everyone. I did a simple Google search and found the title of my thesis online. I have a letter which I saved on the university letterhead of my acceptance and teaching assistantship/scholarship offer and a copy of my diploma. Research your facts before you tell someone that I lied about this degree. True, I only applied to the school because someone I thought I loved and could spend the rest of my life lived there but I did not go there to chase him as you blatantly stated. By the time I accepted the offer me and said person had not spoken in several months.

You claimed that I do not care about others illnesses, struggles with family issues, etc. At the time, I did not have a sick parent. I was fortunate enough not to deal with that until 20 years after you did. I could not imagine losing a parent in your 20s like you did. I tried to support you in the best way I knew how. I could not even imagine this in my limited life experience and in trying to be supportive, I may have said/did the wrong things but it wasn’t because I didn’t care.

Same with you and your chronic illness. I tried to help you when you said you were in pain. It may be no excuse, but I have never had arthritis, so I had no idea what you needed from me. How was I supposed to know if you didn’t ask me specifically for support? You were not sympathetic to my chronic illness either. It is easy to not understand something that isn’t visible. I have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS). My PCOS caused heavy, painful menstruation and though I didn’t understand it at the time, instability with my weight, often causing weight gain for no explanable reason. There were times when I resorted to diet shakes. I was ashamed that I could not be like everyone else. I could not have late night snacks on midnight fast food runs or simply control it with portion control and exercise. Yet you mocked me in that “review” by mentioning my use of these shakes in a negative light and that I “lied” about dieting. How does one lie about dieting? It’s not as clear cut and simple as it’s made out to be.

Because of your grudge against me, I have lost people who were important to me. You have destroyed my self esteem. I have not tried to write anything seriously because I’m too afraid of saying the wrong thing. With new people who have expressed that they like me and want to be my friend, I hold them at arm’s length because I don’t want to be stabbed in the back again.

I almost forgot about the worst thing you accused me of and am editing this. You stated in your “review” that I wish my friends dead. I would never even fathom that, even for you as much as I hate you. What most likely happened was that you probably brought it up and me not thinking you were serious, I probably laughed off your remark about D and maybe said something sarcastic. The truth is, I don’t even remember this so-called conversation. I do know D had some health problems and maybe there was a rivalry between us but I would have never have had that horrible thought. As much as I was jealous of her, I loved her and considered her one of my closest friends. I don’t know where you got that idea that I would have such a terrible thought about her, much less vocalize it. I cannot believe you think that badly of me to make such an accusation.

I should not let a classless b*tch like you rule my life but look what power you had over me and those connected to me. I hate you more that I have hated anyone in my entire life. All this toxicity over a stupid crush that I put behind me a long time ago. Nobody believes what a toxic individual you are, how vicious and vengeful you can be and I can only hope that sooner or later, you are found out.

With Lots of Hate,

Me

I wish everything had turned out differently.

From the first time I saw you, you drew me in like a young child to the bounty that lies under the tree on Christmas morning. There was so much to uncover; I took all my time peeling and ripping each layer off of the present, in the hopes that I would find that which I so desperately wanted on the inside. Little did I know, the only thing inside of you was a cold, dead heart.

I was mesmerized by you. You seemed so untouchable, undefeatable, undeniably strong. I hoped that by hanging around you, I could glean a small anount of the self-confidence you held. Instead, I found you tearing down my self image and tossing it into the flames without even a second thought. I remember telling myself the first time that you just had a bad day; that it wouldn't happen again. But time and time it did.

You were so cruel to me, but like a car wreck that plays over and over again inside the mind, I couldn't look away. I couldn't get away either: everywhere I went, you were there too. I remember the first time I retreated into my safe little oasis of the bathroom stall and tore my arms apart, hoping the physical pain would distract from the emotional war that raged on inside my head. It did, but the pain was fleeting, and I was back at it again in less time than it took for you to ensnare me.

Then the rumors started. As if telling me I was terrible wasn't enough, you had to go and tell everyone else too. I remember the time I asked you if you wanted me to die. Little did I know those words would cause you to turn to your parents and tell them that I was going to kill myself. I was shocked, as this wasn't true. Sure, I was unhappy with myself, but I didn't want to die. Did I?

I ended up in therapy and on meds because of you.

You never spoke to me again.

When I think about it, you probably saved my life. Not now, but further down the road, who knows what would have happened if you hadn't started those rumors? I got help because of you, but the only reason I needed help was because you were so cruel to me.

Every time I think of you, I'm torn. Do I put you on a pedestal and hail you as a hero like everyone else? Or do I look down upon you as you suffer now from your own mistakes, and laugh?

I cant decide. In another world, maybe things could have ended up different.

~Emme

We were never friends, not really. There was something profound between us that can’t be duplicated with anyone else. And yes, I knew what we could do but I chose to stay in the shadows of your heart where it was safe. But it rained the day you told me that love had come to you and my heart plunged deep into my stomach, gasping for air. I stared into your eyes and it was true, and my eyes closed tightly to stop the tears that were burning to be set free. Honestly, I thought I could never feel this, whatever this is. It didn’t matter because you packed your heart and took it with you but left your soul hugging me fiercely.

And now that you are far away from my deep oceans and comfortably on land with your new love. So, I’m sending you this letter today from the brown-eyed woman you left so long ago. I never found the words back then under the stars where we had a moment on the hood of my car and you turned to look at me as if my soul bled from my eyes, shining brighter than the stars ever could. The words were stuck in my throat and the pain unbearable, but I smiled through it, swallowing the words back into the depths of my soul where they swam tirelessly and endlessly.

As long as you’re so far away I’m sending a letter to you each day, hoping and praying there will be a day when we meet again.

Because I can dare to fall in love with you.

From Clarice with love.

https://youtu.be/3xwdMbWK_9k

Photo Credit: Me

Dear cousin,

It had been months since your last text. Years since your last call.

I have always tried to keep in contact. Messaging you, writing letters but you are constantly busy. Out doing stuff, talking to your friends, playing with your family, etc. It is already hard enough with the time difference but adding in your busy life it is practically impossible.

On the rare occasion that I make contact the uncomfortable conversation is short, awkward and completely one-sided. I wonder if we ever had any actual bond. We used to be so close but now it is like you are an absolute stranger.

Honestly, I really miss you. I had desperately hoped that our separation wouldn’t change our friendship. I hope that when we see each other again we might become close again but I am afraid we won’t. We have grown up a little and grown farther apart. I am terrified that when we meet again, we will only be connected by blood.

Sometimes I wonder if I am just disturbing you. If you really want to be friends. You can’t blame me. All the effort is put in by me. I can scarcely count on one hand how many times you texted me first. I send you texts but you never answer. When we talk, I keep the conversation going. All you do is send your stupid “bitmoji” and one word texts. I am always racking my brain for things to say, things to keep the conversation going. Now I am wondering if I should just stop.

Why should I continue wasting my time desperately trying to connect with someone who doesn’t care. I am tried of texting you and never getting an answer, it feels so terrible. I am almost one hundred percent sure that you have forgotten you have my number. I have the number of one friend who I have only just met. She has other friends and stuff to do, but she always answers. She keeps the conversation going, she listens. I feel like I know her better than I know you, my own cousin.

Your forgotten cousin,

I am done.

PS I really miss you...

I’m sorry for not being the best friend to you. I’m sorry for not caring enough to ask you how your day was. I’m sorry I didn’t fight hard enough. I’m sorry you had to suffer through everything alone.

I’ve been learning how to live again. I’ve been learning how to eat, how to sleep, how to love, how to open up. I’m learning what it means to say “I love you.” I’m learning how to be a better person and a better friend because I know how much it hurt you to cry out for help, only to be ignored because that’s what I’m doing now.

I’m sorry you had to hear those words, “I hate you,” I’m sorry they came from me. If I could take them back and destroy them, I would do everything it takes just to be able to take that pain away. I don’t hate you, I love you more than anything in this world and I know you loved me too, a long long time ago. But times have changed and you are gone, a memory fading with age, being erased as time passes. But fear not my love, for I think of you everyday, I write about you everyday. I look at old photographs of us and cry silent tears because you were the only thing I loved. But times change and I grew to love only myself, because I was breaking down and couldn’t bear to see you watch me crumble. Only I was too blind to see you crumbling away before my eyes. You were the first to fall, the first to die from this awful disease. I feared it would take me too, but it was you I learned from.

When you died, I forgot how to eat, how to sleep, how to get up and look at myself in the mirror. I began to close the doors of my heart, locking them forever. I hated everything about myself because I knew it had cost you your life. I started putting myself at the back of a long line of people that kept growing, I stopped caring about myself, only caring about those beside me. Because I thought you would be proud, I though maybe, just maybe, you would come back. But you never did.

The decorated hallways grew darker and darker, losing all color as I realized they were of no purpose to me. Nothing would bring you back.

I didn’t realize how bad it had gotten until I was sitting next a friend, about to cry because everything hurt so much. He asked me what was wrong, as he had never seen me get to this point. No one has, for I don’t like to open the doors to my true feelings, I keep all of the dark parts, the parts that I hate the most, all of them are locked away, never to be seen. But somewhere along the way, I lost sight of what everything meant, and it all became muddled in my brain.

I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you for everything. For the memories, for the love you gave, for understanding. I’m so sorry about not caring enough to see how much you suffered. I hope everything is better now, because you deserved better than me.

I unfollowed you from everywhere cutting all of my connections from you, thinking that you didn’t even think about me anymore and therefore decided to move on. I was just over you, only two more days needed and Boom! You would not mean anything to me anymore. But then there was a notification on my phone, you had sent me a request and my all feelings and emotions were back again. I again started missing you . I thought it was impossible for me to forget you. I tried to ignore your request because I knew somewhere that it was going to hurt at last. But I couldn’t ignore you for long time, so I accepted your follow request after some time, so you don’t feel I am stalking you. There was no action after this by your side. I thought about it and again u led me to suffer that pain, the feeling that I am so crazy that I fall for you everytime. But then the very next day I saw your message, commenting on my story. I felt butterflies in my stomach. It gave me immense pleasure to know that u do notice me. Again I felt there was definetily something by your side also, some feelings for me coz you never seemed to be one who just gives attention for time pass. Then I texted you back after large intervals of hour. You sent me your teasing face pic to annoy me, yeah you were looking shitty in that, and no one sends the shitty pics to random people. But then there was a thought, what if you were like other boys who just flirt, like other fuckboys. I stopped my emotions, my expectations so I am not again exploited. Then there was a text ‘Can I call you? coz I suck at texting’. You came to know that I have deleted your number, you said you were really disappointed and wasn’t expecting that. You called me, gave me a brief summary of what was happening in your life and were continuously asking about what was going on with me, you were deeply interested in my life; I can observe that by the way you were asking questions. You said you were bored with your intership and wanted to work along with me, you continuously taunted me for deleting your number, you said you didn’t delete my number coz u wanted to be in contact. Then like an idiot , I spilled all the beans regarding my career. You mentioned you use to observe me at internship and therefore know me better than me ;that to with full confidence. I said I am bit confused and scared for my career, you said you believe me and the way you said that ,it felt you mean it. And the talk went on for 1 hour, it was our first call, we were not friends, not in same stream, we were no one to each other, neither we were lonely souls though we were able to keep going for 1 hour and it would go on if I had not ask u to cut the call. It was so good feeling. I hope what you said over call were feelings and not only words. I was comfortable with you, and that was the best part, I shared what I hadn’t ever shared with anyone, and you were interested in knowing my interests.

The next day I saw you follwed one of the other interns over our common internship and again this was enough for me to get a reason to believe that you are a big flirt like other boys who is ready to be with anyone ,not a special one. This time I felt bad for you. Because you could never get to know what the real pain and love feels like. I felt betrayed but at the same time was saved.

I don’t know what I observed is right or wrong or I just overthinked, but your next action will decide what I think about you.

t,

No one told me, the first time, what had happened.

Instead I was nine and sitting on the foot of your hospital bed, knowing something was wrong. But god, we had been through so much by then, hadn’t we? You were fourteen but you looked so much older, washed out on those white sheets, and I didn’t want to know what happened. The gauze on your wrists tickled my face when you brushed my hair back, and I just wanted to go home.

You didn't tell me what you had done.

Instead, you got me high, seven years later, smoking pot. And your daughter is asleep across the hall, eighteen months old, and this is a bad decision but we’re making it anyways, because she’s already fucked by genetics, a little weed’s not gonna make it any worse. You told me about it, about how much it hurt and how much it wasn’t worth.

Do you remember? The picture in Delilah’s room, above her crib: You and me in black clothes. I’m young enough to still be blond, your hair is bleached white and cropped. Our sister is blurry in the background, walking with her head down and our grandmother’s necklace swinging.

I hope you know I didn’t scream, that last day.

So I’m sorry, for whatever I did. I loved you, and I wish that I didn’t have your birthday tattooed on my wrist like a monument, I wish I didn't have your blood splattered on the hem of my old shirt, I wish your daughter never saw, I wish life hadn't been such a bitch to us, I wish you had made it.

For what it's worth: I love you.

- z

I pretend your away at war and I am your love waiting for you to come home. Waiting until our lips touching wasn’t just a daydream but a dream come true. And when you’d wake up it would be me you’d see when you separated from your slumber. It would be me you’d hold when the nights got cold instead of the last letter I wrote.

As you know I have been faithful to you, never cheated on you but I thouht about it. Due to all the shit you put me through. In your mind. You seemed to have washed all the dirt away like it never existed. For me it's part of my DNA: the pain, the promises, happy ever after's, and the I'm sorry bullshit. The games you've played on me like a broken record repeating the some old lines. When I said. "I love you," I didn't ask for all of your garbage, and all the rest of your shit to be thown on me. How hard can it be for you to just love me,for who I am, and what I am. Hoes, side chicks, and STD's that how you please me and show me you care. Really! My pussy isn't or wasn't stable and good enough for you: or are your balls just to small for your ego. Because my shine was too bright and too much for you-you had to ruine my days Just to make youself feel good. In spite of it all I gave you my love over and over again. More deceit more lies. "I see". This a game to you. I have covered all the bases of my heart with excuses of you. I don't understand why I keep leting you back in. "No!". Not this time, not anymore, I'm closing the door. Bases are loaded and you struck out. I loved you with all my heart and soul. Guess what I don't love you anymore. Game over.

P.S.

You are a NARCISSISTIC piece of shit that used me for your personal gain. A Monster. You will get what's coming to you. Pain all of the pain that you give to me will be back on you three times fold. Karma is a Bitch believe that and you can Kiss My Ass. To Shay MOTHERFUCKER!