Habits
12 Wednesday Nov 2014
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in12 Wednesday Nov 2014
Posted Uncategorized
in12 Wednesday Nov 2014
Posted Writing
inTags
alone, animal, boyfriend, depressed, gif, hate, late, love, lust, night, picture, rant, sad, upset, wolf, words, writing
Sometimes my emotions spiral out of control until they dwindle down into a dark, deep pit of gloom. I often find myself pondering over various questions concerning my well-being, future and self image while I search for a way to climb back up out of this pit. Tonight’s question is one that I’ve stumbled on a few times before. Can I be loved?
I would say I’m suffering from a deep bereavement despite the fact the one I love is still living, just without me. I feel an emptiness in my heart where he once took shelter. My self-confidence is shattered and every time I look in the mirror I wonder if anyone will ever look back at me and tell me they think I’m beautiful. I constantly hear compliments day to day but none of which slip off the tongue with a tang of care. I’m aware most of the time it’s just sweet-talking prowlers who have recently heard of my relationship deterioration and are interested in tasting my lips. Their compliments feel more like insults at times.
I feel like I will only ever be an object of lust. I watch the eyes of men scan my body and stare past my eyes, giving themselves thoughts of pleasure and enjoyment. I feel like a man can only love me for a brief time, fuck me a few good rounds and then get bored. I know I’m nothing extraordinary but I want someone to make me feel like I am – and then stay afterwards for cheese, crackers and wine.
I want to laugh, learn and go on adventures with someone who isn’t always trying to predict the next moment I will devour their nectarous taste. I feel deep inside that this will never happen to me though. I understand this is my depression talking, being more profound with the recent events taking place in my life. Despite whether or not the words are coming from within my own thinking or spewing out from the depression, it’s how I’m feeling.
I don’t think I will ever be loved in the deep regard that I long for and hope will someday find me. I also believe that this thinking has always lured me towards settlement to expedite the fulfilling of this craving I have for love.
In the end, I will always be a lone wolf. No matter what pack I end up running with.
31 Friday Oct 2014
Posted Writing
inTags
beautiful, boy, boyfriend, broken, crying, gif, goodbye, heart, hurt, lana del rey, late, love, miss, missing, music, night, picture, post, rant, sad, tears, touch, upset, words, writing
I miss you. Not the you that you have become but the you that I had once fallen in love with.
You used to hold my hand whenever you got the chance. Our fingers would intertwine with eachothers as we would frequently squeeze one another to see who could squeeze the hardest. You always would win, but the pressure of your strength against my delicate skin made the moment real even though it seemed like a dream most of the time. You would rub your rough thumb against my smooth skin for what seemed like forever, then would expect me to do the same, which I always ended up doing. We took turns expressing our love through these silly little touching games we played once. I miss that.
You used to kiss me whenever I looked your way. There was a time when you couldn’t keep your lips off me. You would kiss my pink cheeks, my rose coloured lips, my arms, my hands, my forehead, my shoulders… These days I have to ask your permission to kiss you because you told me you no longer feel the urge to kiss me, especially in public. The only time you willingly kiss me is when I shamefully give myself away to you, only for you to stop kissing me once the last bit of my dignity has been thrusted out of me.
You used to tell me you loved me. Not in the “oh yeah you too” mumbling sense you do now but the “you mean the absolute world to me, I love you dearly” passionate way. The words used to slip off your tongue so naturally and clean-cut, but nowadays they are coated with doubt and insecurity. Your words used to be believable as you would whisper them, along with sweet nothings, into my listening ears. You never say it first anymore. I have to repeat myself over and over again just to simply hear you mumble it, and give myself away to you to hear that clean-cut version you used to so proudly announce to the world.
What happened?
I ask myself this question every day. These past two years, what did I do wrong? Did I become unattractive to you? Did I lose sight of what our relationship was? Did I give you to much credit? Did I over-speculate on things? Did I do this, did I do that? I never thought to ask myself, what did you do wrong?
You took the little confidence I had within myself and tormented me with it for the past 6 months. You lied about loving me just because “you were scared”. What did you think I was going to do? I’m a fragile girl who has so much love to give to the world and wouldn’t hurt a soul. You lied to me. You abused me. You took advantage of me.
You loved me once. You genuinely did.
I miss that you.
29 Wednesday Oct 2014
Posted Writing
inTags
beautiful, black, bully, bullying, child, childish, dark, earth, escape, evil, fairy tale, fun, good, idea, imagination, kids, night, people, post, pure, realm, silly, story, wolf, words, world, writing, young
I was bullied immensely as a young child up until around the start of high school. I was “different” in the young minds of others. I enjoyed the things most young girls didn’t. I played rough with the boys, enjoyed trading Pokemon cards at recess and rarely brushed my gold locks. I never stuffed my bra, I never painted my nails, I never said mean things about other girls. I never went with the flow, I always swam against it. I always heard the whispers of those around me but I never thought much of it at first. It started with whispers, proceeded to shoves and then to the face to face confrontation. I never fought back though. Make love not war – something I’ve believed in since I was a child.
Instead of fighting back I would escape. I created a world of my own where I was a wolf. A black wolf to be exact. And a princess.
I started with large rolling green hills painted with budding flowers and tall trees that towered in the background. Beyond the green vast were monstrous snow-caped mountains that crept over the warm valleys as if they were to crash down and cover the lands in winter, which they never did. The forests seemed endless as I imagined myself on all four black legs, sprinting and dodging the trees and logs. The sun shone bright in the sky, surrounded by puffy pink and white clouds that looked soft enough to eat. There were multiple moons at night, but the focus of the dark sky was the millions of bright stars that gave light to the valley like a crystal chandelier in a ball room. The village was large and always awake. It had a medieval charm to it, nothing really technological and created with warm, neutral browns and reds. Simple but beautiful. The ocean was always nearby, close enough that you could hear the crashing of the white waves against the hot sands. From my palace you could see the deep blue ocean stretch farther and farther away from my fingertip as I pointed out towards it.
I called this place Mazara.
I continued to escape to Mazara every day. Whenever I was there, I couldn’t hear the whispers or feel the shoves. I began to convince myself I was truly from Mazara and my parents had sent me to this “realm” (Earth) to escape a dark evil that was taking over the land but someday I would magically return and live out my life as the black wolf princess.
Silly and childish I know, but something that has kept me going strong all these years. Sometimes I still tell myself that I truly am from this beautiful place and that is why I am never actually happy while I’m here on Earth. I know it’s childish thinking but I never failed to visit my imagination and find happiness there despite that when I came back I was surrounded by melancholy.
When the time comes and I have my own children I will tell them many stories about Mazara and I will encourage them to create their own “realm” that we can write stories about and escape to together under the covers with our flashlights, paper and pens.
You should never forget about your imagination or let reality diminish the use of it. Imagination is a powerful tool of surviving life and I refuse to ever let anyone taint mine. Those who don’t use their minds in the way I use mine are often cold and ill-hearted. They don’t look at me the way I look at others with my love and kindness. We will always live in a world with cruel people who just want to hurt others. What do I do about it?
I escape to Mazara.