Feelings are not words.

Almost a year ago, the guy I loved broke my heart. Well, “shattered it to infinite pieces” would be a more accurate way of describing what he did. For months, I woke up in the middle of the night to a tear-soaked pillow, to never-ending endings, to the constant ache of not letting go. After a while, my relentless hurt and sadness turned into bitterness and anger, and I became determined to make someone, anyone, pay for what has been done to me. So I tormented boys, I teased them, frustrated them, and for moments I felt better, but never good, I felt no satisfaction, just a momentary relief. That experience left its mark on every inch of my body, and I swore to never let myself get hurt again.
I met sunshine, and for almost half a year, all we did was force a relationship. I never fully meant those damned three words. They are meaningless, they prove and promise nothing. I feel that now, reaching the half year mark, I have no more will, no more desire to put any effort into this relationship. Sunshine never managed to make me feel loved, appreciated, important or anything else I want, or better yet deserve, to feel. I may not be the easiest person to be with, my horrid character makes me an impossible lover, but despite my faults, regardless of the destruction I cause everywhere I go, I am still.. I do not know how to describe it.

It's Saturday night, or Sunday morning, and I am up at this hour, contemplating on why I can never be happy. There is so much pain inside me, so much bitterness, and I find myself incapable of ridding of it, I am never at ease, never fully content, and when I think of how now, not even two decades after I came into being, I am already so miserable, I cannot help but wonder if it really does get better. I have no motivation to push myself forward, no desire to accomplish anything, all I want is to sleep endlessly. I do not enjoy philosophical questioning such as why are we here and what is the meaning of life, but still, on nights like this, I cannot help but wonder why do I bother getting up in the morning. Sunshine says I have a seasonal depression, and perhaps he's right because the snow outside does not bring any comfort, but I know it is more than a seasonal reaction, more than a phase, it is me, the misery of my existence, the constant desire to be happy without ever allowing myself to do so. The ultimate question is when does it end, how do I make it stop?

I could go on for hours, but this is a circular argument that has been going on inside me for years. It always, always ends the same.

There is not much going on in my life, so I don't write. Perhaps it is a good thing, because it means nothing bad is happening. I am just constantly stressed, and I am not myself. I keep hearing how different I am, and everyone keeps on asking what is wrong, how come I never look happy, and other questions people ask when they pretend to care.
I may not be happy, but I'm alright. I barely sleep, I fuck so much my legs ache, I drink and smoke, I take drugs, I drink way too much coffee, I hate everything and everyone, I have no job, I look terrible, I fantasize about older men, I live from one day to the next.
And I have no complaints. There are better times ahead.

A year ago today, you turned eighteen. It was a Wednesday, and after school I joined your family for dinner at a restaurant. It was the first time I've met the extended family, and surprisingly you were more nervous than me. I went over and introduced myself. Your family members were cold and distant, but I didn't mind. I sat by your side and held your hand the entire time. I chatted with your brother, and when we weren't looking, I texted your old best friend to remind him to wish you happy birthday. I remember looking at you the entire night with pride and admiration. I felt like the luckiest girl in the entire world for being by your side. Back at your house after dinner, after having sex, I remember you jokingly saying “look, I'm wearing my birthday suit!” which months later still made me laugh. On Friday, we went out for dinner and bowling. We took silly pictures, and I still have them stored on the old computer. Occasionally I look and them and something in me saddens, yet I smile at how happy we looked. We were so perfectly happy together. And on Saturday, I threw you a surprise party. I got all your friends together, and I baked you a huge cake. The most memorable detail about that party is how you spent the entire night with me, making me feel as if I were the most important person in your life. That night was one of those little things that made me realize, over and over, how madly in love with you I was. On those occasions, it seemed as if nothing could ever separate us. A year ago today, and I only remembered when I came home and looked at the calendar. I considered passing by your spot today because I felt so unruly today, with my ripped tights, skeleton shirt and leather jacket, my short black hair covering one empty eye, studded bracelet on a skinny wrist with a tattoo connected to fingers with black painted nails holding a cigarette. I wanted to sit on the stairs and look at you from across the floor to see if I'd start violently shaking again. Yet I was strong, or maybe weak, by deciding not to surrender to the desire to see you, and instead I went home and I saw it was your birthday. I felt a mild regret and surprise for not remembering, and something in me wished I hadn't forgotten and that I'd seen you and wished you a happy birthday. I wonder what your reaction would be if I had told you today that I hope you have a great birthday, better than the last. Would you thank me or simply pretend my voice hadn't reached your ears? Today, after I remembered the significance of this date, I tried to miss you and I couldn't. I played in my mind he memories of your birthday and I felt nearly nothing. This makes me want to see you even more, to know if the meaning of this apathy means my heart has finally given up on the naïve belief we belong together, if my mind has decided to finally rid of the intoxicating thoughts about you and if my body ceased to crave yours.

There is this boy, and he makes me laugh when he playfully teases me, he asks me about my day and listens to my stories with great interest and he thinks I am pretty and intelligent. For the first time in almost a year, I feel comfortable with someone, I laugh honestly and a warmth spreads in me when his hand “accidentally” caresses mine. Last week we went to an art gallery, and he listened to my explanations, looking at me with admiring eyes. On the way home I rested my head on his shoulder and he brushed the hair of my eyes. I like how he is in awe of me, I like how he goes out of his way to make me happy, I like how he treats me and how he cut his hair short just for me. I like waking up next to him in the morning after we've stayed up the entire night, and I like crawling back to bed and having him wrap his arm around me. I like many more things, but I dislike how scared I am of the mere idea of having a boyfriend, terrified to commit myself to one person.

All of that is to say that slowly my attachment to bunny is weakening, the wounds are healing, the memories becoming souvenirs and the painful moments are becoming acceptable. I am determined to wait a year before attempting a serious relationship again, but until then, I will keep collecting boys and listening to love songs.

And better than I can word it myself:

Still a little bit of your taste in my mouth
Still a little bit of you laced with my doubt
Still a little hard to say what's going on
Still a little bit of your ghost your witness
Still a little bit of your face I haven't kissed
Still a little bit of your song in my ear
Still a little bit of your words I long to hear

Stones taught me to fly
Love taught me to lie
Life taught me to die
So it's not hard to fall
When you float like a cannon

Stones taught me to fly
Love taught me to cry
So come on courage,
Teach me to be shy
'Cause it's not hard to fall
It's not hard to grow
When you know that you just don't know

With the New Year approaching, I cannot ignore the smell of a new beginning. This time I've started thinking of my regret list early. I want a clean slate. Why do I say this every year? I cannot believe there is nothing I want to remember, to carry with me from one year to the next. All those past events, all those regrets, mistakes, lessons not learnt. Maybe this year I will finally send all the letters I've written. I can offer people the choice of being by my side once the new year begins or being left behind, like so many have been before. I realized tonight I've been the coward all along. When relationships got complicated, I destroyed them. Destruction has always been my solution. I just sever the ties that hold me and another together. As soon as a relation faces a difficulty, I chose to take the easy way out, find a replacement. Bunny, as always, is the exception. Who do I write to? Sunshine? Maybe I'll confess to him my own faults and those of us, tell him what I think of our miserable attempt at being together, forcing a relationship, constantly trying to prove something, who know what, to one another. I'll write to the friend who stuck by my side, and maybe I won't even throw accusations, I won't tell him I occasionally get my because he doesn't put me first, because he likes another girl, because he's not good enough for me, because he can never say the words I want to hear. I'll just thank him for being there and being himself, for listening to my endless rants, for his honesty, for smarting me up.
Do I write to the one friend I've had for over four years now? Do I tell her how I sometimes think we're only friends when we're apart? Do I tell her that her miserable attitude annoys me, that her constant hating of everyone and everything disturbs me? Do I hold her responsible for never offering any comfort? Do I tell her I sometimes feel as if she's only my friend for entertainment purposes, that our whole friendship is based on mutual benefits? Do I blame her for not sharing herself with me, for the fact that even now, after we've been friends for years, I still feel as if I don't know anything about her? Do I write to my new friend, the one who appeared right when I needed him, who carefully moved my hair from my eyes on the bus back home, who makes me laugh, who, for once, makes me feel understood, assures me that it's ok to be myself? Do I tell him he is the first guy I met since bunny whom I don't want to hurt? Do I tell him I could never love him? That I can't fully trust him because I know all his admiration for me is just a result of his liking for me, because his feelings blind him? Do I tell him he could never be my boyfriend, because of who he is, the qualities he lacks? Do I tell him that despite knowing we most likely won't be together I still want to be close to him, because he makes me feel important, appreciated, and all the other things sunshine fails to make me feel? Do I write to all the others, to tell them our relationship is temporary, that soon I will no longer need them, that they are all just props? Do I write to the one who used to be my best, closest friend for years? Do I tell him how I feel? What seems like an eternity ago, he muttered three words that tore us apart. We couldn't be lovers, we couldn't be friends, we didn't know what to be anymore. Do I tell him how, suddenly, I thought maybe he was the one for me? How that scared me to death? How I didn't know what to do, how to act, and therefore did the one thing I can do best and I hurt him? Do I confess I still love him, and that I miss our friendship, miss laying my head of his knees and unravelling my deepest feelings? Do I try to make him understand that I still don't know what I did wrong, what sort of horrible crime I've committed to make him determinatively turn his back on me? Do I tell him I've forgiven him everything, except acting the same way bunny did, walking away and denying my very own existence? Oh, and bunny, my beloved bunny, the essence of my being, do I write to him too? Do I tell him how even now, almost a year later, every song is about him? Do I tell him I never really moved on? Do I tell him when I close my eyes it's him I see? Do I confess that he's the only one my body desires? Do I share with him that he is all my heart longs for? Do I write down all the ways in which I miss him everyday? Do I admit to him my fear of never feeling the same way with anyone, because I firmly believe he is my true love, the only one who makes me feel whole? Do I tell him how sometimes when I do something, or go something, I picture in my head how it would be different if he way with me, imaging how my life would be if we were together? Do I tell him I will love him until the day I die?
All these people and others, all these letters unsent, words unsaid, all these unanswered questions, how do I find relief? How do I let go, cease to be so retrospective?

Last night I was contemplating about how I never got the chance to grow up with one group of friends, I constantly had to change, to build friendships on shaky foundations, soon to crumble. I look at pictures of other people and their group of friends, the ones they grew up with, the ones who they know and trust, who they can rely on, and I am filled with jealousy at the chance I never got, filled with anger at the parents who took me away from the life I had and threw me into a new one, unfamiliar, forcing me to survive on my own. I changed countries and high schools a few times, and as a result, I cannot maintain a steady, ongoing relationship. I never know what I want, afraid to commit to one thing out of fear it will be taken from me. Sooner or later I start feeling unsatisfied, irritated, with everything from my hair color to my friends. Defence mechanism or royal screw up, I don't know. I just want, for once, to find something that's right for me, something I can hold on to, something that will not disappoint me. Something I won't have to turn away from.

I don't know how to be. I don't know how to live. My laughter never comes from the inside anymore, my feelings are all forced, every emotion is an excuse. My life stagnates, I don't learn anything new. I feel like I am bound to be eternally sixteen, hateful, confused, bitter, and wishful. I feel as if all I do is crawl slowly forward, burdened by the misery of my existence, weighted down by my mistakes, all of which are lessons unlearned, hoping to one day find comfort and some peace of mind. Until then, I wait, living from one day to another.

The stars lean down to kiss you,
And I lie awake and I miss you,
Pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere.
Cause I'll doze off safe and soundly,
But I'll miss your arms around me
I'll send a postcard to you dear,
Cause I wish you were here.

I watch the night turn light blue,
But it's not the same without you,
Because it takes two to whisper quietly,
The silence isn't so bad,
Till I look at my hands and feel sad,
Cause the spaces between my fingers
Are right where yours fit perfectly.

I'll find opposing new ways,
Though I haven't slept in two days,
Cause cold nostalgia chills me to the bone.
But drenched in Vanilla twilight,
I'll sit on the front porch all night,
Waist deep in thought because
When I think of you.
I don't feel so alone.
As many times as I blink I'll think of you.
I'll think of you tonight.
When violet eyes get brighter,
And heavy wings grow lighter,
I'll taste the sky and feel alive again.
And I'll forget the world that I knew,
But I swear I won't forget you,
Oh if my voice could reach back through the past,
I'd whisper in your ear,
Oh darling, I wish you were here.

There is nothing exciting about being sick for a week, but the worst part is coming back and realizing I was missed by no one. I got a few compliments on my new dark hair, which was nice, but I still don't know what I wanted to accomplish by dying it. I wish I was pretty, or at least good looking. I don't care what anyone says - looks do matter, and all I got now is a little boy's cut and a flat chest. I am superficial like that, I hate people who wear running shoes and have a only one brow, and soon I am going to the dermatologist to remove a beauty mark because I'd like to believe it will make me more attractive. I don't know why lately I've become so preoccupied with my looks, maybe it's because I have no one to tell me I am beautiful, but I think regardless of the specific reason it all comes down to my low self esteem. There is a little over a month left until the end of the semester, and I am starting to feel the pressure more than ever because this time I have no choice but to do well, my future depends on it. I learned about “learned hopelessness” in psychology today, about how after a few failed attempts people just give up, and it occurred to me that this is exactly what I do. The teacher didn't offer any magical solutions to that problem, he just said one must find within a will to try harder despite difficulties and past failures. Ha. Another thing that's been on my mind in the last while is work. I have refrained from working during school time since entering college, and last job I had was this summer, where I met sunshine, and my money is running out. I want new inks and other instant gratifications. I thought about applying for a job where bunny works. It is knows as a good place for students and I even have a few acquaintances who work there. I mean, bunny and I broke up 8 months ago, no one would suspect the main reason for my desire to work there is the opportunity to see his lovely face more often. I probably won't get the job, and it's probably what I deserve for having such questionable motives for wanting to work there.
No rant would be complete without complaining about love. I completely gave up on sunshine, I have lost all will to make this mess into a working relationship. When I met the saint and he bunny, I got an intense feeling inside of me, as if every atom of me was screaming “he is the one”. Listening to that voice is responsible for inciting two of the best things that have ever happened to me. That wasn't the case with sunshine, and I didn't pay much attention to it, but last night, once again unable to fall asleep, I recalled how a long time ago my friend asked me if I would ever consider being with someone with whom I haven't gotten that feeling. Thinking about it now, after being with a guy that fits that criterion, I see that ignoring my gut feeling is a senseless thing to aspire for, since clearly the only possible relationships happen with those guys who excite every part of my body. So I've made a decision to not betray myself by throwing myself at the first nice, willing guy, but to wait for that special one who will cause my whole body to shiver.
Although I must say, I worry greatly that it won't happen any time soon due to the unresolved issues I have with bunny. Then again, I shouldn't preoccupy myself with such nonsense. Winter is a good time to be alone, and when the time is right, love will come knocking at my door. Until then I must remain patient and channel my thoughts towards more urgent things like my grades and my job hunt.