I've come to learn that fear chokes the soul more than any one thing in a person's life. It keeps one from living.
"We stop living when we claim that it's not worth it to reflect"
I remember my first love. He was a good guy. Not very attractive, but kind and adventurous. I only knew him for a week. I didn't realize I loved him until I was already driving away. I don't remember even saying goodbye. This was the lesson that taught me if you don't act while you still have the chance, you may never have it again. I never saw my first love again. I knew him for a mere week and that experience is no less dear to me than the deepest love I've felt in my 21 years. It was innocence. Every memory I have from that week was pure innocence.
I spent years wondering if the memories meant as much to him as they meant to me, but knowing I'd never find out. I spent years wondering if he ever thought of the girl I was.
I'm a lucky girl.
Where does my strength come from.
The first time I was struck out of anger. I knew I did nothing wrong. I felt bad because I was being hurt, not because I did something wrong. Back then I was strong even when I didn't understand why people did the things they did.
Back when I knew I was something was when I was 12.
Since I can remember I've known I've been and still am different. I've always been told I'm beyond my years. A 15 year old's mind in a 6 year old's body, now a 37 year old stuck in a 21 year old's body. I would sit at the base of a tree watching my peers playing, seeing the concept of popular vs. unpopular and wondering why social importance mattered.
The last time I opened up my heart to someone, bared my soul and loved with everything I had, was three years ago.
The first time I was fooled.
The first time I ran away. To start something new. I've found solace in leaving everything behind ever since.
The first time I fell in love with freedom.
Tonight I have a bottle of vodka on my right and a plate of sliced lemon on my left. I'm working on a hangover in the morning because I don't want to be able to think. I don't want to be inside my head. I'm a risk taker because adrenaline pumping through my veins is an addictive escape.
I post this unedited, uncensored because tonight I don't give a shit whether or not I'm a pity case, a narcissist, an over emotional woman, or whatever else you think when you read my words. I was born into privilege, yet knowing how parents divorced affected families, I wanted my parents to split because I suffered while they were together. Out of their four children, I was the one they tried the hardest for and I was a problem child. My mother used an authoritarian parenting style, while my father was an authoritative figure. I learned so much from my parents' relationship alone that I don't know where to start.
He had a way with me. I had a fiery temper, and he was as calm as a mirror-like lake. He wasn't afraid of me. He wasn't intimidated by me. He wanted me despite how ugly I was on the inside. He could make me to smile even when it hurt and he taught me to let the little things go. The first time I laughed when something went wrong was because of him. I adored him and I loved him just the way he was. I felt, for the first time, like I was at peace when I was with him.
Ah, marketed poison. Pry my history from me so that I don't feel like I have something to hide.
I'm going to drink until I'm belligerent. Let's get it all out on the table.
Love me if you can.
7:31 p.m. - 2010-07-16
Recent entries:
Hello, Old Friend - 2017-02-13
Heads or Tails - 2011-01-21
Kindness - 2010-12-03
They've taken a toll, these latter days - 2010-11-16
Written in the Winter of 2009 - 2010-09-19
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