Let go of all the pain, of all the tears, and all the rain

Set free all emotions that you hold whether timid, shy, or bold

Throw out all negativity, bad thoughts that have longevity

Bring in the courageousness, positivity, and happiness

Hold tight to friends, dreams, and make amends

When you let go of the pain that hurts, you make room for a

Happiness that works.

Just let go.

Many years has passed since that fateful day, but

I cringe when I hear your name.

I want you to lie in bed every night unable to sleep.

I want your stomach to twist every time you think about me and what you did.

I want you to picture my horrified face,

for you to remember my screams.

For you to wake up drenched in sweat 

From nightmares just like I have.

Oh how I wish for you to suffer like you made me.

My tears would have drowned you

Over and over again.

I used to wish for your death, but now I want nothing more

Than to know that you’re suffering from regret.

I want you to remember everything you said to me,

Everything you forced me to do,

All your threats.

I wished for you to choke on your words,

While you were choking me.

I begged you to stop and you didn’t.

So I hope your suffering won’t end.

You claim that it haunts you at night,

But I don’t think it does.

You robbed me in many different ways,

And it’s time for karma to rob you of happiness.

You seek forgiveness,

But I seek justice.

Waking up and looking into the mirror was hard

Brushing my teeth, combing my hair, acting like nothing was wrong

Going throughout my day expressionless.

Everywhere I went, I was different

I was different and nobody knew

Nobody knew that he touched me

Nobody knew that I screamed

Nobody knew that I tried to run

Nobody knew that I cried every night

No one knew.

What did it matter if they did? No one could help me.

No one could undo what he did

I was broken, I was broken and no one could fix me.

He was everywhere

In my thoughts,

In my flashbacks,

my nightmares.

No one knew.

But I did.

I could write about him forever. I could go into detail about how he was, how he used to be, what it felt like when he said my name, when he looked at me, when he touched me, when he kissed me…what it was like to be loved and accepted by him. Everything. I hate it. I want it to stop. It’s like a curse, it’s like the song that you hate the most is stuck inside your head and won’t leave. Everything reminds you of their memory. I’ve moved on with someone I love so deeply and I am still constantly reminded of him. I think of him always just like I said that I would. I dream of him. It’s annoying and hauntingly ridiculous. I want to go forward. I have tried and tried to let go of the past but it will not let me escape. Is there something wrong with me? Am I cursed? No. I don’t know what it is. I compare my current relationship with my old one and I’ve realized several things that opened up my eyes. Even though I might always love him. I never knew him so deeply as I do with my current love. I love everything about my boyfriend, I know him and I talk with him openly about everything. I am older and mature now. Back then I was just a lovesick teenager who didn’t think it was necessary to share every thought with my significant other. I didn’t think you were supposed to be best friends with them like you were with your other best friends. I thought that you told everything and every thought and feeling to your friends, but not your boyfriend. I think that if maybe if I had been open I wouldn’t have ended up in a dangerous situation. Him and I wouldn’t have fallen out. Maybe him and I would still be together. I might always love him. I long to see him sometimes; I long to talk to him and sometimes to hear his voice. I long to be the person he is looking at or the person he calls out to. But I am also glad that I am not. I am so grateful that he was in my life, but I am glad that we didn’t work out. Because my boyfriend is the best person to ever have walked into my life and I would never trade that for anything or anyone else. Even if it was my first love..

I absolutely love movies and the quotes that are incorporated with them. Ever since I have seen the movie ‘The Truman Show’ with Jim Carey, I feel like my life is just like a movie. Most movies are based off of real life, events, and ideas anyway. My prospective of life is a bit dramatic to others, but I believe it is more exciting that way. I like to believe that life is not as dreary as what people make of it. In movies bad things ALWAYS happens to both protagonists and antagonists. But in the end they all live happily ever after whether they loved, fought, or had a misunderstanding. I know that all of our hard work and endurance will eventually lead to our happiness.

Happiness. Color guard makes me happy. Many people do not understand what color guard is, or they do not understand why others love it so much. I have been doing guard for at least 7 years. It is my escape, my home and my talent. In color guard, as soon as the music starts playing, I am someone else. I am a performer, a dancer, I am the emotion of the song. I take one breath before the show starts; as soon as its in motion, I play my part. I  maneuver the rifle, flag, sabre, my body in the motions I have matched to the song in perfect synchronization. It is relieving to be someone else. I step out of my body mentally and do something completely beautiful. I go through the song like I am a marionette being controlled by the music. When the song stops and the audience applauds, I allow myself to breathe.

There are many things I will not understand about the world. How contradictory it is, how fickle it is. Well maybe it isn’t the world, but society. They tell you to take moments of your life to smell the roses and appreciate the beauty of life. But when writers, nature lovers, and artists take many moments to appreciate the beauty that is the good in the world; they are seen as having our heads in the sky. Then they are told to come back to Earth and get back to work. To get their heads out of the clouds and come back to reality. Yes in this life we have to be serious and we have places to go and things to do. But why is it that when one reflects on the beauty of life more than they should; they are laughed at for daydreaming? Life is beautiful. There are good things and bad things and things we don’t understand. We are told that in life; we play until we grow old enough to work. Then we work until we die. That is not what life is about. There is nothing bad about finding and admiring the good in the world. Why are artists, writers, nature lovers, and dreamers looked down upon for believing they can reach for the stars and love every moment of their life? They magnify what they see in their work for others to see. If you were to ask me they are doing everyone a favor. Life is not bland. Life is all kinds of things. It is beautiful, ugly, sad, happy, and unexpected. Creative people should not be downsized for their work or ideas. They should be thanked for sharing their perception of life with the world in my own opinion anyway. Life can be many things, it can be perceived as anything good or evil or just.  We should appreciate its beauty and flaws.

What struck me most was his curious eyes

Hiding behind my hair was a pitiful disguise

He smiled and my heart melt

I was trouble that he had not yet dealt

He didn’t for see my plan

Even I was surprised; falling in love with this man

I grew to know him, to care for him, to love him

He took care of my every desire and whim

When I reminisce on those beautiful days

My heart is both full and lonely

My eyes glaze with tears of aching

Of a ghostly happiness

What once was, is now a broken mess

I should’ve stayed with the curious-eyed man

But sometimes love and life don’t always follow a plan.

Sorrow and Regret never leave each others side.

Betrayal soon joins them after being hurt by Friendship and Love.

Betrayal tries to hide from Pain.

They all walk together, but alone.

Drinking in each others presence,

They’ll never trust another soul;

Who tries to convince them that they’re all different

Because in the end it’s all the same.

If anyone has ever been in a creative writing class you will know that the teacher will at one point ask you to write a story or a poem on a feeling as if it were a person. It may be the hardest thing you’ve ever done. A feeling is a feeling not a person. A person has feelings. However, if I were to characterize a feeling it would be Depression. I’ve seen a drawing of depression and or anxiety depicted as a shadow of a person bugging or harassing a real person. Those drawings can never be anymore accurate. That is exactly what it feels and would look like if you could see it. If I were to characterize depression it would be someone who looms over you with negativity all the time like a rain cloud; an unwanted guest who invites themselves in and overstays their welcome. What I want to know is why it’s so hungry for negativity, for hatred, for self-loathing. I want to know why I can’t sleep at night and I am kept awake by overwhelming thoughts brought to me by depression. I want to know why it won’t leave me alone. Why it might go away and just when I start to feel okay again, it’s back knocking on my door. That’s what I want to know. What is the appeal of keeping me awake at night? Of invading my thoughts and dreams? Why it always makes me feel like I’m drowning. Why it always feels like I am choking on air. I would ask it such questions if it were a person. I might cry in it’s presence and it would embrace me with cold hands enveloping me in even more dark thoughts. I would shake and hyperventilate but the thoughts worsen from there. What bothers me at times are people who “don’t believe in depression”. Depression is a feeling, it is a sickness. It can be caused by everything and nothing all at the same time. It could be a chemical imbalance of the brain or it could be hormonal. It could be as a result of losing someone or a change in someone’s life. Depression isn’t something you need to ponder if it is real or not. I am talking about an emotion, not of fairies or mermaids or even the Lochness Monster. It’s real and it’s terrible. It’s terrible because you never know when you’re going to feel okay again. The people around you may feel annoyed because they want to help you, but they can’t. You never know when you’re going to be yourself again. You want to talk to everyone and no one at the same time. It is the worst feeling when you feel lonely all the time, but the idea of going out and putting on a show frightens you to the core so you stay home. I have resorted to talking to myself at times, giving myself pep talks because of my loss of motivation. Sometimes I feel okay, and sometimes depression is hovering over my shoulder telling me what I should worry about and why it’s important I think of all the bad outcomes that could happen in my life. It’s hard not to listen. My mind feels like depression is driving a car and the only way out is straight off the cliff, but I forget that another option is to not enter the car in the first place. Depression is manipulative and controlling and unbearable all the time; but, even when we feel like we aren’t in control of anything we cannot succumb to it. Succumbing to depression is giving up. And if we give up where does that lead us? We need to fight with whatever strength we have to push it out the door of our house, our rooms, and out of our heads. We may not always succeed, but some days we will if we just keep fighting.

I find it interesting how some people are perceived as selfish and heartless. I think of myself sometimes. I am fragile to the emotions and feelings of others. When others are sad, I am sad. I ache to help them and to heal them. Most problems can be solved by money or objects, but what if you don’t have the money to help someone what do you do? What about the other problems? Like Depression, like heartache, like the feeling of loss? Are others selfish because they do not want to help other people? What if they have tried time and time again to help other people, but they have come to a realization that there is simply nothing that they can do? Instead of letting the fact that there is nothing they can do hurt them and make them feel useless; they shut down. They pretend not to care. I observe people all the time. I watch them and see them hurting. I ache to help them. Over time I did whatever I possibly could to make someone feel better or smile even if it was only temporary. There was one time that a coworker of mine came to work in tears. She got into an accident and she needed $400 to avoid being put in jail. She had nowhere to turn. I ached for her, I gave her half the money.  I was a 17 year old saving up for college, but to me, seeing her happy was more important. She paid me back $50 and I never saw her again. Any normal person would feel upset and maybe even mad. But even though I didn’t get all the money back, I wasn’t bothered. My sole purpose for giving her that money was to help her. Other’s had told me she was probably lying and she used that money for other purposes. Who is to say if she was lying or if she was telling the truth? It didn’t bother me. Maybe she was lying, and so what? What if she needed that money for something other, but she was too embarrassed to say? That’s her business. I helped her. I did what I wanted to do. There are millions of people on this planet who are suffering in one way or another. Lots of people don’t reach out or try to help because they are afraid of being made a fool. Society shows some homeless people who aren’t really homeless and are out there scamming people. Okay. Well there are people like that. This world isn’t perfect. People are not perfect. I’m not going to let society turn me away from people in need. If I can help someone, I will. And some people think I’m naive for that. Let them think what they will. I know what it is like to feel hopeless and to feel like I’m stuck on the bottom of the well. I don’t want anyone else feeling that way if I can help it. Another observation I made from talking with people and letting them into my heart is that, I can’t help them with everything. When I was eight years old my dad gave us notebooks to write our goals in. My goal was to end world hunger. He smiled at me and told me to come up with another goal that was reachable. I frowned at him. Why was ending world hunger out of my reach? I used to get so frustrated because he told me that. I never understood. I can’t save everyone, I am one person. I can try my hardest, but I cannot. I remember venting to my school counselor about how useless I felt; that everyone around me was hurting and there was nothing I could do. She told me to envision everyone walking up a mountain carrying a rock. Every person had their own rock to carry. I would see someone struggle and I would carry their rock for them. She told me to envision a lot of people falling or stumbling along unable to carry their rock further. She asked me if I would be able to carry twenty rocks and still be able to climb a tall mountain. I told her, I could not. I think that’s when it became clear to me that I couldn’t save everyone. That sometimes I had to put myself first before I could help anyone else. If a plane were to fall from the sky and there was limited air masks, I would need the mask first. If I needed to save someone, I needed to be physically able to do so. I can’t save everyone and although I know that it is true. It pains me. I hate seeing others cry or look broken. I feel so worthless and useless sometimes. So when I see others who feel that way, it hurts me. But I am not a problem solver. I am no savior, and I am no superhero. I can’t fix broken hearts, broken spirits, and lonely souls. I can’t bring back people from the dead. Or make cruel people stop bullying others. I can’t convince someone’s ex to get back with them or stop parents from divorcing. If I could. I would. If I could make everyone happy and not feel worthless, I would. But I cannot. I have accepted that sometimes there is just absolutely nothing I can do. I remember talking with a friend of mine. She was my best friend, she told me I was always having problems and I was always depressed. She told me she felt like a terrible friend because she couldn’t help me with any of my problems. I remember getting frustrated with her, and I told her that I never expected her or wanted her to fix my problems. I just wanted her to listen. That echoes in my mind sometimes. I always want to fix people or their behaviors. But some people don’t want to be fixed, they don’t want help, they know there is nothing that can help them with the problem that they face. Sometimes the only person you can really save is yourself. Sometimes people just want someone who will listen. When I feel useless and there’s nothing I can do, I feel bad. But then I remember what I said about just wanting someone to listen. I think about it and to have someone to talk to that will listen to you, and offer you support is a beautiful thing. It truly is. Because even though they cannot help you in a way you wish, they are helping you by just being there. To know that there are people out there supporting you and caring about you is a wonderful thing. Regardless if they can’t help you physically or emotionally. You know if you need someone, they will be there to greet you with a hug and cry with you. And sometimes that help outshines anything else. You can still run out of money and you can still feel depressed or broken about different things in life. But the feeling of comfort, of being supported, and loved from other people will ultimately help you in every way possible and that feeling will never go away. And if that is the kind of help I can offer. I am more than okay with that.