Lord, it's lonely here.

Completely frustrated.

I should wear a sign that says: Will stop at nothing until everyone around her hates her. That seems to be my motto of late, anyways. Maybe it's the medicine, it makes me anxious at the very least. Maybe it's the month, February has never been a good one. Maybe it's just a continuation of the bad series of events that have been happening in my life.
I don't want to deal with drama anymore, I'm not cut out for it.
I have enough on my plate right now, that I don't need people causing problems that don't need to be there in the first place.
I'm also wondering where the alleged best friend disappeared to. I'm not okay, if you're wondering.

THIS IS ME LETTING GO. THIS IS ME DROPPING IT, BECAUSE I CANT DO IT ANYMORE.
The stress in all areas of my life is making me so tired, I just can't do it. I want to go home.
all i want to do is to go home, to a time and a place where I just sat on the sidelines all the time, watching the drama happen. Somehow, in this city, I've been put right, smack dab, in the middle of it all. It doesn't make sense to me why so many people around me seek out drama from me.
I don't get enjoyment from it, all it makes me want to do is curl up in a ball and sleep it away.
I don't have the time for that right now.

leaky nalgene

looking for someone
to blame
this on
how I've been feeling today
the nagging at the back of my brain
which I can't decipher
for the life of me
I just know that there's something that's bothering me
something that I need to fix
and so i'm looking
for someone to blame all of this on
picking fights with innocent bystanders
well
not-so-innocent bystanders
causing problems, just so that others
may be unhappy
like I am
right now
frustrated
cranky
annoyed
or as aunt kathy says
"crunchy"
just looking for someone to blame
because then, maybe i can remove my burden,
right?

I've spilled water all over me out of my nalgene four times today.
I think I'm going back to Juneau this summer.
"8 staaars of gold and a fieeeeld of blue! alaska's flag what is meaaaans to yooooou!"

are you an artist? she asked
only at night, when it's dark, I answered
are you a poet? she asked
only on paper napkins

what we should do

You ever notice how, when things are going well, you don't really take the time to write them down? How we tend to focus on the negative things, we barely even think about how happy we are, or how a particular moment makes us feel.
Maybe we do.
Sometimes.
But it's only after we've lost that which made us happy that one day, that second.
I haven't been writing because I haven't been thinking about the hard stuff, I haven't been remember the bad times, I haven't been an emotional wreck. Sometimes you just have to take in the moments that make us feel so full of joy that the bad days just melt away, and the sorrow that constantly ebbs at our hearts is forgotten.
If only we could remember to pause in those moments where life feels lighter than air, I think we'd be much happier people in general. Because then, we could remember that feeling of elation, and when times get hard, we could remember how that joy feels and know that it won't hurt forever. That way, when we're happy, we won't feel guilty for not being sad (knowing that there are people out there who are crying).
Instead of living to get past the sad moments, we should live to be part of the happy ones.

another step backwards.

i really missed you today.


no matter how much you've hurt me, I'll still be there to greet you with a loving smile and open arms.
no matter how much you've made me cry
I'll still want to lie down on the couch with you
my head in your lap, you smoothing my hair.
I'll still want to curl up next to you and hold your hand as we sleep.
I'll still want to sit side-by-side reading separately
the latest novels that transport us somewhere new
i'll still want to plan day-dream trips with you
to tibet, to norway, to new zealand
it doesn't matter how much you've hurt me
a smile is always waiting
a hand is always open
just itching to grab yours.

a muse or more

where a little boy under a table with cake in his hair stared at the grown-up feet as they danced and swayed and his father laughed and talked on the long ride home and his mother laughed and talked on the long ride home and he thought about how everyone dies someday and when tomorrow gets here where will yesterday be? and he fell asleep in his brand new winter coat.

I remember when I heard these lyrics for the first time, my obsession started. I found them extremely poignant, and a new world was open to me. I knew that writing was a medium for me, because the music behind it didn't mean as much as the words did. I've probably heard that song a hundred times, and it still never gets old.

and throw away my misery it never meant that much to me it never sent a get-well card.

Today I feel my heart being put back together a little bit. I see fewer pieces on the ground than I did yesterday. The urge to scream in angst isn't there. I might not be able to get you out of my mind, but at least I can smile when I hear your name instead of shrink back inwardly. I can remind myself that there are more important people in my life than you, and the love we lost, and things I can hold onto.


like laughing with her



and playing with her.



and romping with her


I wish they were here.
But you know, they're only a plane ride away afterall.

this ridiculousness is killing me with insane laughter

I've escaped my house, thank God. My dad's here, so I left and am staying in the hotel with him. I'm sitting by the window, with a view of all of Seattle. The sky is patchy blue, people here would find reason to complain about the lack of sun whereas the people I grew up with would call this a gorgeous day, one for hiking and fishing, and probably swimming. You notice things from up here that you wouldn't normally notice, like the american flag on the roof across the street, the undulating hills that are the Seattle skyline, a billboard that changes every 20 seconds between three different advertisements. It's calm up here, so the city seems calm.
This whole emotion thing is such a roller coaster, one day I'm great and I find the hilarity behind everything that I've been going through and the next I just want to curl up and be comforted because of all of it. When I try to look beyond all of the heartache and confusion and stress, I realize that this is such a short time in my life, that it will be okay (i'll probably be laughing about it tomorrow). There are people here who don't make me cry, countless people who make me laugh uncontrollably, or just smile nonstop. People who wouldn't think twice about defending me, and people who love even my biggest faults.
I think I just need to remind myself of that sometimes.

in other news
i gave up facebook for lent.
the valentine house is having a valentine's day party... the dress is apparently "happy." I refuse. Whatthefuck kind of dress code is that anyway? February can die. I wouldn't miss it.

done

How dare you!? How dare you decided to come in and out of my life as you please? How dare you think about me, and tell me that you're thinking about me, when both of us know it can't happen. How dare you write me after days of ignoring me?
I've cried over you.
I've screamed over you.
I've exhausted your name.
How dare you think that it's okay to just waltz in whenever you feel like it? How dare you tell me that all you wanted to do was thank me, when I know that you just wanted ot hear my voice too.
And you make me listen to yours.
And you make me feel pain again.
And you make me miss you again.
Don't act like it's nothing, because i's not. Because I'm feeling this in every corner of my heart.
Don't write me.
Don't call me.
Don't expect any response back.
Because I can't cry over you anymore. I can't wonder about you. I can't wish for you.

still crying

I thought I was done crying over you. I thought that I had moved on enough that I had built up that wall again, the wall that I held strong for eighteen years.
But then here I am, crying over a lost cause. Crying because you don't have the decency to write me back. Crying because I've never missed someone this much, because my heart aches everyday I don't wake up next to you. Crying because my hands are empty, and I'm sitting here writing. I'm emailing your best friend because that's the closest I can get to you.
Crying because I know that you're doing me a favor by not writing me back.
Because it's hard for you too, I know that. I know it's hard for you too... but that doesn't make it easier to know.
I'm crying for my lonliness, my stress, my longing for someone to hold me and to tell me that it's going to be okay.

but the people I would normally call on to hold me while I cry have all gone. You're gone. Sara is gone.
Sometimes it feels like words are only words, and all you need is to be held. you need someone to look into your eyes and tell you that it's going to be okay, because it doesn't feel like it's going to be anymore.

i need breakfast.

drawing from an airplane napkin

sitting here trying to figure out
why
I'm still sitting here waiting for you.

waiting

It's almost as if you think, maybe, after that day that I felt like I was over him, everything will go back to normal. We'll be friends. We'll talk about our days, share witticisms, laugh... and be friends.
But the more you talk to him, the more you realize that you're not over him. the more you miss holding his hand, and kissing his forehead. His birthday, so you send a gift, you make a card, you send it in an envelope. He gets the gift, and calls you but you can't answer because you're out in God-knows-where and have no cell phone service. He leaves you a message. It's the first time you've heard his voice since you ended things. All you can hear in the message is the initial, "WHATTHECRAP?!" and then your stomach drops because you know it's him. The message goes on but you don't hear a thing it says, you just stare, immobilized, the phone still held to your ear. You catch yourself, because you realize that someone is going to notice, and you put the phone down and make small talk with the people you're in the car with. you wait until you have service again, and everyone leaves the car so you listen to it again. He's thanking you for the gift.. the card, saying over and over again how cute it was, and how he's sort of glad that you didn't answer because he was nervous. He doesn't ask you to call back. So you email him when you get the chance, and tell him you got the message. You ask if you should call him back. He doesn't answer. You painstakingly check your email to see if he's responded.
His best friend emails you to tell you that he appreciates your shared love for your guilty pleasure, Hilary Duff.
A friend you never talk to emails you to ask you how you are.
An old best friend of yours emails you to tell you how much skiing sucks on the east coast.
But he doesn't. You get the picture.
But you still want him to email you back, because you want to know where you stand with him. You're still shocked by the fact that he called to thank you in the first place, you're also shocked that your heart flipped and your stomach dropped.
And then you remember the other guy you've been spending time with since you and the first one broke up, and you feel guilty because you know that you're in no place to start something new. It is painstakingly clear that you're in no place to start something new and that's not fair to this other guy. But even that's more complicated than it needs to be because you've been playing emotional tango with him for over four years, and he's finally fallen in step. To top all of that off... he's one of your sister's best friends.
And between all of these thoughts you hear the message in your head over and over again. You check your email more times than is necessary.

And that emptiness in your heart that you thought you had filled, has never felt more empty.
So you check your email again, because when you see his name there, your heart fills up again... if only temporarily.

It's not so much coping with anew place, it's coping with this place.
You could drive for 10 minutes and not see so much as a house... but you will probably see cows. Apparently my parents don't like people anymore, but love the scent of cow dung wafting through the air. House after house after house, packed with stuffed bears, and green carpets, and cigarette smoke. Nothing even worth considering.
They want fruit trees. As far as I'm concerned, fruit comes from Foodland downtown, after it's sat on a barge for a couple of weeks. We like them ripe. I couldn't tell a fruit tree from a poplar. And I still get confused when they say poplar, thinking they're mentioning everything I was not in highschool.
Don't get me wrong.
I'm not completely ignorant when it comes to nature.
I've eaten muktuk, deer jerky, and smoked my own salmon. I could tell you the differences between the five different types of salmon - Kings, Sockeyes, Cohos, Chum and Pinks. I could spot an eagle hundreds of feet up the mountain, hidden away in the trees, before anyone else. I grew up next to porcupines and black bears. I can navigate those mountains even better than those black bears.
But when it comes to poplars... and pine trees... and fruit trees... and bobcats or cougars, I am clueless.
I also didn't realize that being so far away from the ocean could make someone feel so trapped. There are lakes around here, and mountains. The ocean, however, is so far away. There are so many roads out, and yet I feel trapped without the constant ebb and tide of the ocean.

And oh Lord.
There are wild turkeys.
Please.
turkeys
this is going to be some transition.