Sometimes my subconscious needs to suffer too

I pulled into my driveway, and saw Tifa. She was as cute as ever and as I got out of the car….whose car was it… I called to the dog. She yawned, and suddenly he calls out to her. She leaps towards him. Like she always did in reality.

His mother came out of nowhere. She extends her arms and gives me a hug. How are you, she asked. I said Okay, shakily. She gave a prim smile.

Next thing I knew, we were all inside my house. I went upstairs to change but I heard him follow behind me. I went into my room. He followed me in. My clothes were strewn everywhere, but he didn’t even talk to me and went straight to my full length mirror as if I didn’t exist. He was looking at himself. Then he left, without another word. He started to go back downstairs. I remember my body walking on its own.

“Stephen,” I called down.

“What?” He responded, half turning his head. It was the first time he acknowledged me in the dream. 

I felt angry. I felt an immense wave of sadness. But for some reason, I didn’t respond after that, and hid behind the closet door away from the view of the staircase. I heard the floorboards creak under his weight slightly, as if he was looking for me. Then it creaked, signifying he walked away. I slowly walked back out, starting to feel a heaviness in my chest. It must have made a sound because suddenly, he walked back out and made his way upstairs. I quickly went back into my room.

He came in, and I had my back turned to him.

Then I felt his arms around me. He was hugging me.

We exchanged a couple sentences, and then I imploded.

My knees found their way to the ground and I curled over, unable to take the pain, the crushing pain in my chest as I began to cry wildly. I cried until I needed to take a breath, and felt my body shuddering with my sharp gasps for air. His arms were still around me, and he never let go.

Until I woke up.

Let’s Fly

I’ve dreamed of the day when we would board that plane to Italy- just the two of us. I dreamed that we would be so excited we wouldn’t be able to sleep the previous night and we would stay up all night talking about our itinerary and anything we may have forgotten to pack. I dreamed that we would fly across the world and experience something new and breathtaking together. Capri, I had told you, was my must-see. And you said you would be my traveling buddy. It sounded great at the time, until now. You never made us more intimate. I was always left out in your world, just a side thing, just a buddy. My plane swerved and started to nosedive. You had faded so fast from me I didn’t even notice.

Up, up, here we go, where we stop… everybody knows.

1 month, 11 days

This post’s really just for me self reflecting out loud. You’re more than welcome to read it, and discover what is happening inside my head but I warn you, it’s going to be very messy, very disorganized, and very raw.

It’s almost valentine’s day and really yeah i don’t give a shit that i’m single. i remember last year you didn’t even say anything to me let alone do anything. i simply posted a heart onto your wall. there was no reply, no reciprocation. ok, i thought, because that’s just who he is and he doesn’t like to celebrate these little dates i guess. but he also made it private- that like cogwheel icon- which means he controls who’s able to see my post. which comes right back to a really big issue i had: he was still hiding me from public.

like the fuck dude. YOU were the one who told me to stop hiding you from MY friends. and guess what I DID. YOU were the one who wanted me to flaunt you and it wasn’t that i didn’t want to- oh trust me i could flaunt you if i really wanted to- but that i didn’t want you to order me and tell me what to do with my account. had i ever told you to flaunt me? no. you would flaunt me yourself if you felt like i was worthy of it. whatever. don’t give a fuck.

yeah remember those flowers you got me for our 1 year and told me to post them up? but to make it so that your mother can’t see that i posted it? yeah. yeah you’re a dick. and yeah i was stupid not to realize that that was totally wrong. but i listened to you anyways because i didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. whatever. don’t give a fuck.

honestly, i think you really took me for granted. you’d only reply to questions that you want to reply. you’d ignore the questions that you didn’t think was worth your time- because i wasn’t worth your time. you know that i was into you way more than you were ever into me and that i can be easily played by you- you were able to make me do whatever it took to make you happy, to make you love me, to make you stay. wow i sound so incredibly stupid and retarded right now.

all those guys that want to get into my pants? yeah, it’s a real thing. you want to give ryan a piece of your mind? why didn’t you, and why don’t you? saying these things now doesn’t help me or you, so maybe just maybe don’t even try. you were all about jealously yet you did nothing except told ME to stop. you said the issue wasn’t me but the guys. what the fuck was i supposed to do then? if it bothered you, maybe you should have done something. or maybe i just wasn’t worth the time and effort but if you kept saying you were jealous you’d have a reason to be overly crazy and angry – and you know that i’d do anything to stop you from feeling that way – and because you’d be angry you could ignore me without me actually realizing why. i would have thought you were ignoring me because you were angry. but it’s just an excuse for you not to talk to me and to do your own thing.

i think i’m still pretty pissed about that bullshit of ‘im stuck in front of the computer all day, i dont want to come home and stare at it or the phone all night too’. you’re always on your fucking phone. you really think i wouldn’t notice? you’d always be on your phone watching crossfit videos. my messages would always pop up. you just chose to ignore them. you were the one who cut of our communication. you know it. and you wanted to. you know it was impossible for me to talk to you when im school except via our phones. so unless you’re saying that talking to me has absolutely no value to you, you were the one who caused our communication to break down simply because you don’t want to stare at the screen talking to me but rather stare at the screen watching men lift weights.

i absolutely fucking hate how i had done nothing wrong in our relationship yet i was the one who got dumped. if anything it should have been me. i should have left your stupid god damn fucking sexy ass the moment i realized that you will never give me the love that i give you. you were the one who fucking ripped me away from someone who loved me more than you could ever have and i voluntarily left him for you because you were my unfinished business and i loved you to the core- i loved you when you threw me away and i still loved you when you told me to go explore other guys. i trusted you when you said you wanted me and i trusted you when you said “don’t you see how good we are together?” and i don’t fucking trust people left right center. i only trust people who i think deserve my trust. who i know wouldn’t betray me and my feelings. i trusted you for nothing, and you know what? i will never ever trust you again. not with anything. you want to hear that im doing well? fuck you. i wont tell you shit. because i’m not even important to you- if i was never important to you as your girlfriend why the fuck would i be important as your ex?

one month, eleven days, and counting. bring it on you piece of shit of a heartbreaker. you’ll never get me to care about you anymore even though i can never stop loving you. my love runs so deep for you it’s ruining me. i have suppressed my feelings for you once, all those emotions, the hurt, the lust, the happiness, the sadness that you gave me and even though i have it suppressed it doesn’t suppress the fact that you were my everything. i love who i am. but you didn’t. you only loved what i could give you, you loved what i was capable of, and you loved the comfort i provided. but you didn’t love me, and you never did. i was a fucking FOOL to have believed you loved me even for a second. because love does NOT let you throw away someone the moment other plans come up. love does NOT blind you to these life ambitions but rather amplify them and makes you think about your life with that person. so no, don’t even say you loved me. because you OBVIOUSLY didn’t and you’re just fooling yourself. you know nothing. all you ever know is ambition and having everyone around you cater to your needs and if you’re not catered then you could throw them away. i hope to god, like the one you believe in, that you’ll one day suffer the consequences of using people like that. i hope one day you’ll understand my pain, every last drop of it and i hope one day you’ll ask me how to make it go away because i hope that one day ill be able to shove EVERYTHING into your face and make you feel how much pain and suffering my heart went through because of you.

The Exes That Try To Be Friends

I think I’ve posted something along the lines of ‘can exes every be friends’ and I think, my conclusion came to a no. Everybody knows that. But, is there a slight possibility that against all odds amongst the heart breaking, the anger and frustration and the guilt that it’s still possible to be just friends? Friends who care about each other without yearning to be in a relationship, friends who accept they have history, accept they loved each other but just knows they can’t be together?

Well, I’m sort of in this rut. From the devoted (and maybe overly doting) girlfriend, back to my original, normal, tomboy sweats-allday-errday getup self. Now that I think about it, it’s quite terrifying to see how I had been pushed deeply to my feminine side when I was dating. Not that it’s a bad thing- I now have a great appreciation for sexy dressy outfits and shoes. (AREN’T YOU SO PROUD OF ME?) The man who dumped me though, I feel, has never experienced the wrath of a truly unforgiving woman. Which luckily, I am not. In fact, some people say I’m too forgiving and I’m being taken advantage of. Truth be told, that’s how I find it easier to remain friends with him.

Does this friendship work? Well, I know I still have feelings for him. But I also know I’ll never, ever get back together with him, as much as my heart wants to. This time, my brain is telling me that he isn’t worth it. Third time is NOT the charm with these things. There is no way someone has so little self respect that they let themselves fall for the same person 3 times. I at least respect myself enough not to let it happen. So when we talk, it’s fine. No, seriously. It’s pretty nonchalant. I treat him like I do my other male friends. I don’t seek him out actively. When things remind me of him, I smile, remembering, but I never let it make me sad. Although, I would not, again, actively seek out things that remind me of him. Funny thing was, he texted me today, and I told him I missed his super adorable dog, to which he replied saying how I can visit her (at his house mind you) whenever I wanted.

Um. Let’s rewind a bit. That’s a little insensitive, no?

I mean, I’m cool with being friends. But to push it isn’t cool. Is that an invitation to his house? He’s inviting me, the girl he broke up with, back to his house to see his dog. Let’s just leave it at that.

I think the real answer to this topic is it definitely relies on the breakup-ee. This person, assuming having done nothing wrong to cause the breakup, gains all the power they lost when they got dumped. They now hold the power to either be friends or not. And as a stranger on the internet, I give you my advice: don’t try to make them miserable. You’re better than that. Things can’t be forgotten, but they can be forgiven. And you have every right to feel angry and frustrated but just ask yourself if it is worth losing a friendship over something you know deep down wasn’t going to work anyways.

How Alcohol Poisoning Affected Me.

I hate binge drinkers. I also despise those who drink their sorrows and woes away. I hate those who use alcohol as an escape, to numb their pain the easy way. I hate those who repeatedly go through this cycle of drinking and puking and then again.

Last night, I was all of these. I binge-drinked. I drowned away my emotional pain of my fresh break up. I took 8 shots of straight vodka within a couple hours. The result? I have never felt more useless, emotional, depressed, worthless and stupid in my life. No body could make me feel better. I caused everyone I care about trouble, including and especially my parents who woke up at 5 in the morning and rushed to the hospital where I was taken after nonstop vomiting in my friend’s basement. Them and my friends stayed until the morning when I finally started to regain my consciousness and realized I was in the hospital with an IV drip to my wrist. They told me I had been vomiting all night long and I was dry heaving. I was shaking and crying and nauseated. I was the epitome of a real mess.

I had a severe case of alcohol poisoning. Even now, I reek of it. Even when I’m breathing through my nose, there’s a smell of alcohol. My stomach is empty and feels like it needs to retch again. I can barely walk on my own and I feel so god damn shitty. Not just physically. I was actually on the brink of fatal damage. Had I not been rushed to the hospital who knows, I would have been dead.

And now, I’m wallowing in my own mistake at home. I also can’t believe how incredibly stupid I’ve been. How did 1 guy turn me upside down? Why do I never learn from my mistakes? Why am I letting him control my life? I want to be someone better. I want to be someone. Someone who actually makes an effort with their life and not constantly complaining about how bad it is. I do it so often. I hate doing it so often. But this is a new low for me. I have never felt this shitty in my entire life. And as strong as I’m trying to be, it doesn’t seem to be working in my mind. I have to verbalize my thoughts, make them heard, before I can attempt to hold back tears. God I’m such a bad daughter. There is no words that can amount to how grateful I feel to my parents. And all I’ve been doing was rebelling them, trying to make them see I’m a strong person. Strong person my ass. I took them for granted. And I never want to take them for granted again.

There is still so much alcohol flowing through me. It’s not close to being done in my system. And I feel sick to the bone knowing that. All the trouble I’ve caused to my friends and family was not worth it one bit. Being poisoned is definitely something I would never want to happen in my life again, or wish for anyone. Being blacked out drunk and puking is one of the worst things I’ve ever done. My hands are tingling. My stomach wants to flip. My head’s spinning. And I need to do well in my last term of school. How the hell is that going to happen, I don’t even know.

If there’s one thing that alcohol poisoning taught me, it’s that at the end of the day, your life keeps going. You can’t simply just stop and wish it would disappear all in one moment. What you do to your body you will haunt you. Your body will haunt you.

And never, ever, take your parents for granted. Because if there’s one real love in this damn world, it’s the love of your parents.

Lives to Remember.

Daily Prompt: 3 Lives, 3 Memories.

Moment #1: It was Christmas day. It was snowing lightly outside but everything was covered in a fresh blanket of snow. It was dark out. We had stopped watching the show and instead, held each other in our arms for the first time. We pressed our foreheads together, gently, feeling both our heartbeats in our ears. Our breaths were as ragged as the other, and in a tight embrace, we experienced our very first kiss. We loved each other; but the love didn’t last. He fell, and drew away. He changed, and he left.

Moment #2: It was 2 a.m. in the morning, and I had passed out on his bed, already asleep. I heard the lights turn off. Suddenly I felt him reaching for me, and I awoke to his searching hands, which had begun to crawl beneath my shirt. I pulled away, tired, and unwilling to wake up so early in the morning. But he persisted; not angrily, just persistent. I sighed. I gave up. I returned his yearning kisses with unequal yearning kisses. It didn’t stop him. I laid there, tired, drained, but helped him finish. Once done, he rolled beside me, and instantly fell asleep. I stared at the ceiling, wide awake now, and began to cry.

Moment #3: He held his arms around himself, and I could feel his heart breaking. I could feel his pain and it hurt me. He curled, his hands clenching to the sheets, and began to cry, muffled by them. I watched, unable to move, unable to speak as I saw myself at that same moment. A mirror image. I held out my hand and he took it, held it to his heart and cried It’s breaking. I took it back and sat in silence as I watched myself kill him. 

My 3 lives were my 3 past relationships- where i’ve been hurt, i’ve been used, and i’ve hurt. These are important memories to me as they are the result of experiences. They made me and broke me, but it’s time to realize that this is my only life left. I have no more time for the lives where hurting the other is an inevitable fate.