sometimes


loving

really is



letting go.


*ups and downs, goods and bads, 9 months is still a record.*
*i'll never stop loving you. which is why we can't be together right now.*
*i hope this helps me get better.*
*if the universe wants us.... than we shall be.*


ladies and gentlemen: remember,

trust the universe.

eggnog and presents by the lit christmas tree.
classic movies play on the television.
i can't wait to get drunk and play santa.
this eggnog isn't hitting me fast enough. maybe i should take a shot...

a toast,
to all the christmases in the past, that i so badly miss-
and a toast,
to this year's sucky stupid bullshit christmas-
and a toast,
hoping that next year and all the years to come
will be
better.
different is one thing.
but i strive for better.
just like i strive to be drunk right now
so i can enjoy playing santa
instead of mulling over the fact that


it's not supposed to be my job.

way to go mom and dad.
you've just made yourselves the children of the family.

i'm not ready to be ---that grown up yet.

what i wouldn't give to be romanced...

to be treated like a lady
from a gentleman with a true heart
and googly eyes for me.

to have someone bring me flowers
buy me dinner and
surprise me with jewelry.

to read poetry with my name in it
to hear a song that's written about me
to be courted.
to be pampered.
to be spoiled.

anything to make me feel special.

anything at all.

a phone call when one is promised.
a kiss hello and a kiss goodnight.
a big hug every now and then.
a gaze into my eyes.
a spontaneous smile.
a squeeze of my hand.
an honest 'i miss you.'
a note that says 'just thinking about you.'

i hate to say you're not up to par...
clearly i'm still in love with you.
but baby,
i need more than
.this.

oh, romeo.
what's happened here.

Once upon a time...

cliches are just a waste of time.
forward fast to my real thoughts.

where do i go if i'm not inlove with you?
what happens to me when i wake up
and it's all over.
i'm already an addict.
i already come with more baggage than you could carry --even with the assistance of a bell hop.
and this is supposed to be me
at my .best.

...and it's shit.

i can't even imagine what i would do
if i realize that i was fooling myself all along.
and we're not as perfect as i imagine us to be.
and i've been riding on misconceptions and following bad directions.
and believing you to be someone- -
that you're not.
do you even exist?
i know i caught a glimpse--
of this perfect, adoring man.
and it's entirely possible that i created this persona
based on the first time our eyes met.
and saw more in you because i wanted to, not because it was actually there.

but then there's all those times when you say
the right things
at exactly
the right times
and it's reassuring.
unless you're just feeding me lines.
the same lines you used to give to Her.
the same bullshit lines i used to shove up my nose.

every argument, i keep asking you to prove yourself to me.
you agree and say you will.
and every time i understand that i've been fooled,
i find myself disappointed in you--
as well as in myself.
i suppose you've made progress since the beginning.
but its slow. can i really
do i really
want to live with that for the rest of my life?
always living 8 chapters ahead of you?
i like being on the same page.
it's comfortable.
and twenty years from now i know i'm going to appreciate
quality of life so much more than i do at 18.
(right?)
(i don't want to be a drunk alone.)
(i can't even be a drunk if i'm dead.)

don't kill me now. don't kill me ever.
get your shit together before it drives us apart.
whether i'm in love with you
or an imaginary character who looks as good as you,
i'm still in love with somebody.
and sometimes, it's amazing.

so don't crush my dreams.
prove me wrong
and put a ring on my finger.

just
love
me.
baby i'm scared for us. i'm scared for you. i'm scared for me.
so let's just skip this bullshit and fast forward to
the fairy tale ending?

what i'm thankful for:

my boyfriend who loves me.
all of my bestest best friends.
alcohol.
anti-depressants.
beautiful art work.
a good job with decent co-workers and fantastic bosses.
a good education at a great school with wonderful professors.
a great family, regardless of how fucked up we all are.
marijuana.
chips.
beer.
my house and warm bed.
the fact that i'm still alive after all this bullshit (no, this has nothing to do with suicide).
fuzzy warm socks.
good movies on tv at all hours of the night.
a couch.
a good hair stylist.
my dog.
a great anti-drug support system.
all the good memories from this past year.
all the bad memories that i learned from.

fuck this bullshit. i can't deal with this. i just want to get drunk.
scratch that, shitfaced.
and maybe never wake up.

i think something else is wrong with me.
something i know nothing about.
something i didn't think would even be an issue.
biology is supposed to function automatically.
if even my body can't work right...

what the fuck good am i?

i'm going to my grandmother's funeral tomorrow.
it's weird.
we had a strange relationship.
good times.
bad times.
confusing, angry, awkward times..
but there were good laughs
and great pictures
and fantastic, comical memories.
i love her.

"always with a smile on her face..."

speed up & aim.


that's all you wanted.

thank god you made it.

tree's usually win when you're going 65.

it ain't your time.
right now it's time for you to be

with me.

so we can love each other
and help keep each other


ALIVE.

good times with good friends.
that's all that matters.

i love my girl.

simply put: life's a struggle.
i can't deny it-
i want blow.
i want a mountain size pile heaping, glistening,
and waiting for me to
blow.
i want it all.

but it's not worth losing you.
one line would
destroy us.
granted, we're a shitty couple, thrown together by accident
in a foreign country.
but i've been fighting for us since day one.
and one line--
up one side--
would
kill us.

and i couldn't take it. the guilt would
consume
and i would spiral back down the rabbit hole.
but considering the amount of guilt...
and the things we've been through...
and all that you've done for me...
i'd never come back.

i shouldn't put that weight on your shoulders,
but you asked for it.
you offered me a safety net.
naive as i was, i forget that sometimes even the
tightest knots--
come loose.
things fall through.
and the shit hits the fan.
and we fight.
and i want it

that much more

and then every once and a while-
you say just the right thing.
and it keeps me on track.
you tell me i'm really the one who's in control,
that i quit on my own.
that i stayed clean on my own.
but i, like every other addict know,
it didn't come from me at all.
i gave my problem to you because you were nice enough
to accept.
and not to judge.
it's still just as much my issue as ever.
but thanks for letting me avoid it for 4 months.

i need to know that you're worth it.
or else...

i'm gone.
and scary as it sounds...
it would probably be for good.

for a hot minute-
we
(as an us)
were over.
done.
finished.
terminated.

and it freaked me out.
it was my idea... but it's one of those things that
sounds better in your head
and when it actually happens you go
WOAH! not ready, don't want this.

truth?
it probably would have been smart to mean what i said.
and not beg to talk things out.
and to stay as two separate people.

but that's not what i want.
i love you too much to not be us.

i know i deserve better. and i know that there's a chance,
that you won't come around and treat me how i should.
there's a chance-
i've gone and made everything worse for both of us.

but i'm a firm believer in something called HOPE.
you have little faith. but you think with your penis.
my heart says
"hold on to this one. he's special."

it's impossible to have a relationship without problems and without fights and without issues. maybe i'm over exaggerating.
(except i know i'm not.)

all you have to do- is stop treating me like shit
and start respecting me.
easy peasy. it's not rocket science.

i'm willing to give it another go. i know you are too.
every girl wishes she can change her man.
i can only hope you've got the strength in you
to make the changes yourself.

so we can go on to live happily ever after.

when all else fails,

i always have melo. and the melo community. and a nice tall glass of something alcoholic. and it's totally my comfort zone.

and i love it.

apparently when i cry-
it makes me embarrassing.
and kissing in public-
ruins your image.
G-D forBID we hold hands
or even so much as pay attention to each other.

i've never celebrated a worse birthday in my entire life.
call me a bitch. (and you did.)
but remember how you behaved on my birthday?

i don't hunger for attention
until it's been gone for so long that i need it like a fix-
you've been starving me all week.

we've almost made it 6 perfect months.
but this week has been hell.
it makes me want to quit.
to save myself from shit i don't need
to run away
from the
one
good
thing
i thought i
had
going
for
me.

i only cried
because i felt like you didn't love me any more.
and when i told you that,
you rolled your eyes.

why do i waste my time worrying and stressing and loving and thinking and dreaming about no one BUT you?
i used to have a million reasons.
i used to talk about you like you were perfect.
but now- not only am i NOT SO SURE,
i'm pretty damn Positively Certain
that you suck.

i love: the ability you have to say the right things at the right times
and make me feel safe in your arms.
but right now-
i'm not loving: who you are.

i guess that means i don't love you---but that's such a blatant lie.
of course i love you.
i love you more than i've ever been able to make you understand.

but baby?
if you're listening?
this is killing me.