I’ve been thinking, lately, of moving everything back over to this blog; of collecting myself and reassembling my thoughts here. I feel like I get distraught and distracted trying to keep up with three different sides of myself. The worst part of that being that this blog is two years old - two fucking years - and it gets the least of my attention. I look back and see all the effort and time I once put into it and it’s depressing.I don’t want to lose myself but I fear that I’m close.

fill a cup with ice, go out on your balcony, porch, street, whatever, then scream “i am jesus and these are my children!” immediately after, throw the ice and calmly walk back inside.

(Source: anamericanlie)

Dear Person,

You went from being a permanent fixture in my life to a lingering thought and I cannot begin to tell you how frustrating that is. The worst part about it is the amount of effort I have put forth to ensure that you would never fade… So much effort wasted. I should be numb to this by now because, after 21 years, I have seen countless people walk in and out of my life and the lives of others; not to mention the fact that it will happen until the end of time. I have acknowledged that and accepted it but I cannot seem to grasp that concept when it comes to you. I keep telling myself that I wont think and write and obsess about you and the memories wen shared but actions and words are two different things, aren’t they? I keep wanting to look back on the softer moments but then I remember the rough ones and I hate you. I shouldn’t hate you because you have done nothing wrong. I merely talked myself into feeling something that wasn’t there and you tried time after time to guide me to the light that would lead me from my dark path. I fought against you because I thought I could handle it but, apparently, that was just another example of me trying to drive across the country with half of a tank of gas… in a hummer. With all that said, I just want to promise you something - as well as myself. I promise to make this year different for us… by ensuring that there is no us. I cannot allow myself to fall back into that and I pray that you never feel the way you once felt about me. Midway through the year, I want to be your friend again. However, right now is not the time. I think that I should take a break from writing about you or thinking about you or talking to you or wanting to go back to any and everything. I do not wish to be malicious, I wish to be better. Better, however, is something that we will both have to work extremely hard for… something that we will both have to want. I think that I meant it when I said it and I feel like the emotions were real, but those feelings no longer linger in my skin or run through my veins. The feelings I once had for you have faded and my head is now clear. I wish the best for you and hope that this year supplies you with all you need. You will always be a facet in my life but I cannot force you to be prevalent. I wont do it you and I wont do it to myself.

Dear Person,

This wasn’t your year… but that doesn’t mean that it’s time to give up. Promise me that you will give your all these next seven days. Promise me that you will resist temptation and fight all that acts against you. Promise me that you will do everything in your power to ensure that you get back on track. Promise me that you will go back to being that man I always that you were; I always wanted you to be. In a year, I want to look back at this and know that my words touched base and made an impact. In a year, I want things to be different.

I have to figure out where it has all gone. I have been here for nearly two years and I don’t wish to forget everything that has gotten me here.

I spent the last year of my life fighting myself for something that I thought that I wanted - and something that I thought was receptive of me. I allowed myself to hate everything around me because I felt that it all had an active hand in my demise and shortcomings. I starved myself and stuffed myself. I disputed the mirrors in front of me; swearing that the person looking back was not myself but the shell that I was encased in. I told myself that there was potential to be this person that everyone was looking for and that my current self was just the wall I had to climb before I could unleash the individual within. I was wrong.

Dear Person,

This could have been one for the books. This could have been ours. Instead, I’m alone and you’ve forgotten. Just the way it should be. Thank you.

Everything I write sounds stupid. It’s as if I have no feelings, ideas or thoughts anymore. I am envious of the person I used to be.