Can I Tell You A Secret?

I want to be one of those normal people.

I know what you’re thinking, ‘there’s no such thing as normal.’

There are people out there though, that don’t hesitate to walk out the door to go to a store. There are people that don’t fantasize about death. There are people who don’t have trauma or flashbacks and nightmares about what others have done to them.

I want to be one of those people that wasn’t diagnosed with a major depressive disorder at 17.

I want to be one of those people that didn’t have to try several medications just for them all to fail.

I want to be one of those people that doesn’t have an anxiety disorder, and has a hard time just leaving the house.

I want to be one of those people that didn’t have to go to a therapist, just to add PTSD to the list of mental disorders.

I want to feel like a person again, instead of a number of things wrong with me, that affect my day to day life.

Please. Just let me be..

platonic signs of devotion

I am hopelessly in love with you, but platonically. I want to hear from you every time something small happens throughout the day. I want to know when you think of me. I want to hold your hand and walk through a field of lavender. I want to hug you so tight, you will feel it for years. I want to cry on your shoulder and you wipe my tears away laughing that I could have drown you. I want to draw you so I can remember the curve of your cheek and how your eyes try to hide when you smile. i want to let you know that I have fallen in love with myself, because you have shown me that it is perfectly acceptable to be broken and still amazing. We are only humans in this impossibly large universe together and I will be thankful every hour of having met you.

I believe in magic.

Not like the magic in fairytales, full of dragons and spells.

I believe in the magic of those small moments.

I believe in the magic of a dandelion growing in the crack of asphalt.

The moment between your inhale and my exhale.

Finding a constellation in the sea of millions of stars.

The way your eyes light up like a stormy sky.

The dew on the early morning grass.

Magic is what makes this world go ‘round.

I’m so thankful to be a part of these small magical moments.

When I have no ideas for putting together the thoughts that need to read aloud by others, I like to pretend that it is not my time yet for my words, thoughts, feelings to be put out in the world. Please, give me a sign when it is my time to emerge from my subconscious once again. These thoughts are slowly drowning me and must be set free.

The wanting is killing you, darling. The longing is keeping you from sleep. The way your chest aches is like a stone at the bottom of a lake.

What are you most afraid of?

There’s always those phobias of snakes, spiders and bodies of water . Those are pretty rational. I know way too many people that are scared of those. Spiders are creepy with all their legs. Snakes are venomous. People drown everyday in lakes and oceans.

My fears are the feelings. Being helpless. Not being able to express my emotions the right way, or worse, expressing them and not having someone feel the same way. The fear of being lonely for the rest of my life.

I am helpless in a lot of ways. I make myself small in my own life and don’t express the emotions I need to, every day. I am alone and very lonely.

I’m afraid that I will live my entire life, not being true to myself. Having to live and not be who I really am. I’ve been doing it for almost thirty one years now. As a child, I lived to please my parents. As a young adult, I lived to please my friends. Now, an actual adult, I live to please my husband.

I am afraid that if I truly show everyone who I am, they will run away. Or, maybe I am the one who needs to run away. But the fear of leaving is too powerful.

Everyone has fears, that’s just human nature. Maybe what I am afraid of is just being human.

I am afraid of myself.

Dreaming of being a better human.

I think you knew what you were doing this whole time. I hope I don’t get hurt in the end.

One day One…day… That day will come. What ever that one day means to you. Whether it be the day you choose to stay, Or the day you choose to leave. The day you choose them, Or the day you choose yourself. The day that scares you the most, Or the day you choose to be brave. There’s always that one day. I hope it finds you when you need it most.

I don’t think about it often. Usually just on two dates in the year. But sometimes out of nowhere it punches me in the chest.

It has been nine years since I’ve lost you. I won’t ever get to know who you may have been. I don’t talk about you, I’m not sure how to.

This grief will never end.