How to LOVEEE Thursdays.

TILT!

What a good day. Comes at the right time every week. Just in time to make sure I recognize the good in life. 

Anyway. 

This is what I love today. 

-Reading Nicholas Sparks Quotes. Ever done that? Hes a beautiful writer. He writes some very wonderful things. Google them. Now.

-Listening to Avenue Q! Ahhh I can't believe I've been away from it for so long.

-Singing loud and off key in my car. 

-My yoga teacher yesterday made everything look incredibly sexual. It was increasingly funny. 

-experienceproject.com 

-Making guitar string bracelets. 

-The weather is WARM!!!

-Regina Spektor. mhmmm. <3

-I'm doing my next speech for school on Radical Self Love. Check YES!

-Driving a stick shift. I find more joy in it every day. 

-No Strings Attached. hahahahah what a funny movie. 

Thats all I can think of for now. :) Till Next Thursday!

How to be annoyed.

I wish I knew what to say.

I feel like I haven't written in so long. And all I wanna do is write. All I wanna do is get this out of my system. Get these words out of my head.

When I was little, my best friend moved. I loved her so much. It was amazing, really, how much I loved my best friend. We knew everything about each other. We stayed up talking till 5 many mornings. We talked on the phone for hours and hours. We laughed so much. We did the craziest things. We were so young.

The day she moved, I cried. All I can remember is crying. Laying down with my head against my cd player with it turned on full blast, crying.

I don't remember much more about the next months after that. Because all it was, was hurt. So much unbearable pain.

Because I had no one.

We stayed friends. To this day, I still call her my best friend. I saw her exactly a year ago for the first time since the day she moved. We've both changed so much. But gosh. If any part of me believes in soul mates, its because I'm sure shes mine. Soul mates doesn't mean a romantic love. It means two souls that just need to be together. Always.

The point of the story is, I've been in pain before. This isn't the first time. And probably won't be the last.

And it's not exactly the hardest one either. My best friend leaving me was the hardest one.

And I know life moves on, I move on.

And I'm gonna learn something and be stronger than ever and life will be good.

But, call me pessimistic, I just don't care to look to the future. I don't like when people tell me it'll get better. Because I hate waiting. I hate waiting around for something to happen. Why can't life be good now? I don't want to waste my life waiting for the day life gets good again. Especially since that day will end and then life will be shit. Once again.

Annoying, isn't it?

How to know if you're doing the right thing.

I'm reaching a point where I'm becoming silent. And that's sad. 

It's not so much that I don't have things to say, it's more of I don't want to say them. 

More often than not, I'm running through ideas in my mind. Just thoughts and ideas and theories. And sometimes they make me want to explode. Because I don't know what to do with them. 

I think I've been lying all my life. 

I don't want to write because it's fun. I don't want to write because I love books. I don't want to write because it feels good. 

I want to write because I can't do anything else. 

Because, lets face it, I'm not good at anything. 

When I was little, I wanted so badly to be a singer. I sang all the time. But no matter how much I sang, I couldn't be good at it. I've spent years in choir and listening to music and trying so hard. But I'm not good at it. 

I reached a point in elementary school where all I wanted was to be a scientist of some sort. How beautiful it would be to create something. But I couldn't do that either. I think I even failed science that year. 

I've tried out a lot of things. Singing. Acting. Math. History. Health. Exercise. Science. Philosophy. 

And I'm not good at them. I'm not bad at them. Well, some of them. But I'm not good at them. 

Writing is all I can do. 

I don't have a choice but to write. 

I write because it's all I have. 

I write because if I didn't, this depression would take over. And I don't know where I would be. 

Maybe this is how we know if we are on the right path. This overwhelming feeling of "Hell yeah. This is it."

I read a quote once that talked about how we should make decisions. It said that if when faced with an option, our immediate reaction isn't "Hell yeah!" Then our answer should be no. 

Shouldn't that be the case with anything, always? Wouldn't we be so much happier if we based out decisions on that feeling? Rather than on what job is going to pay the best or what person is going to fit in your life the best? 

If someone walked up to me right now and offered me a job writing for the rest of my life, for minimal pay, I wouldn't think twice before my "hell yeah" answer. But if someone walked up to me with another offer, like oh I don't know, public speaking for the rest of my life for millions of dollars, I'd hesitate. I know which option I'd be happy in. Always. And that should ALWAYS be the option I choose. 

So think about that. 

If you are presented with an opportunity, and your response isn't "hell yeah" then don't do it. It won't lead you to where you want or need to be.

How to Love Thursdays.

Things I LOVE Thursday. 

Oh Gala. You continue to amaze me with your continuous pushes to begin to love ourselves. 

Which begins my TILT list.

Today I love...

Reading www.galadarling.com for hours.

The smell of wet roads.

Writing in my Self Love Bible. 

Sharing spiritual experiences with my friends. 

Those deep meaningful talks that seem to make everything more clear.

The LDS church. :) 

Doing yoga. 

Not wearing makeup and still feeling pretty.

Only working till 1 over spring break. 

The beautiful and so grown up Azure Marie. 

Reading my friends' blogs.

Watching scary movies and screaming with my friends. 

Smosh videos. 

Inside jokes. 

Feeling... good. 

So what about you guys? What are some things you love on this Thursday?

How to be 15.

I remember the first time I was hurt. 

I was 15. I was dating (I use the term dating very loosely, considering he had a girlfriend) this guy that seemed to be amazing. He was the first guy to tell me repeatedly how beautiful I was. He was the first guy to tell me he wanted to kiss me. He was the first guy to tell me he loved me. 

We had been talking constantly for about a month or so at the time. Then one day we finally discussed what we were. Because, like I said, he was dating someone. And I was only 15. 

I remember going to take a shower halfway through the conversation via myspace. While in the shower, I blacked out. This was my first time fainting. It was brief, and luckily I had ended up just sitting down instead of falling and hurting myself. I remember sitting there afterwords and trying to figure out what was wrong. I just felt awful. There was pressure everywhere. I could barely breathe. I was so weak. 

I couldn't stand up for a long time. When I finally got out of the shower, my heart was beating so fast and I was crying. I didn't know what was wrong or what to do. 

This began the downward spiral for the next 7 months. I was never happy. I didn't know how to be happy. And he was always there. Claiming to love me. Claiming I was his best friend. Claiming he would always be there for me. 

Well as time went on and he screwed me over, I eventually was forced to move on. 

That's how I feel now. Sometimes, waking up is the hardest thing. Standing up seems impossible. There's pressure everywhere. I can barely breathe. 

But I don't have a choice but to move on with life. Because, truth is, I'll probably be hurt again. There's not a lot I can do about that. Life moves on whether I think I can handle it or not. 

But gosh. Some days are just so hard.

How to be blank.

Today I feel blank. There's not a lot here. Not a lot left to say. But everything left to say. 

Life is interesting. 

Everything about it. Emotions. Senses. Thoughts. Events. 

Just... Everything. 

How to love words.

Clarification. 

First, my lovely friend with the blog titled "This is for you," you did inspire that last little post of mine. But I didn't really realize it till later. So sorry about that. Didn't mean to steal anything. Although, I'm a little opposite of you.

Second, I feel weird my title wasn't a "how to" title. Is that strange of me? Probably. Oh well. Just the OCD part of me showing. 

Last, I may have lied once or twice in my last post. 

I don't know who this blog is for. Maybe it is for you.

Because, let's be honest here. This is for you. Whether you read it or not. I'm always going to love you. Well, part of me will at least. And this is where I do that. I go to school and work and with friends, and when I'm at those places, I don't have to love you anymore. I don't have to think about it. But when I sit down alone, I know I love you and I know that's not going to stop. So these words are for you. The beautiful words that I have loved for years, I'm putting them in to phrases and sentences and paragraphs for you. Because I cannot hold you anymore. I cannot to comfort you. I cannot be there. You won't let me. So this is all I can do. Give you words. Something I don't do for anyone else. 

But it is for me, too.

Because it's in these words that my heart beats, that I can breathe. It's in these words that I find who I am. That I can begin to heal. Words makes sense when nothing else does. When my world seems to have fallen apart, when I can't even eat because I'm so broken, when nothing works out the way its been planned, when waking up is the hardest thing for me to even imagine doing, words feel safe. I feel safe. 

So yeah, this is for you. 

But no. This isn't for you. 

This is for me.

This isn't for you.

This isn't for you. 

This isn't a love note. 

This isn't for you to one day read. 

This isn't for you to look at and judge. 

This isn't for your personal gain.

This isn't for your heart to love. 

This isn't to make you feel better. 

This isn't to heal you.
This isn't to show you what I've done. 

This isn't for you. 

In a world where everything  I've done lately has been for you, 

This is the end of that. 

This isn't for you. 

This is for me.

How to... dream?

Sometimes I dream of love. 

When I was little I usually would dream that I find out I'm a princess. And this beautiful man comes to save me. He always had dark hair. And was tall, but not too tall. And had this wonderful smile. You know, stereotypical prince. He'd admit that he was so in love with me and I would dream that we would hug (I was young) for hours. At some point, we'd be torn away from each other. But he never gave up on me. He'd do anything to have me. And in the end, he always came back. 

When I grew older the dreams changed a little. I started dreaming of real life situations. Usually, I would dream I was at school. Normally gym class. Why gym? I  have no idea. And there would be that one guy that I had liked for so long. Same guy that was in my dreams when I was young. He would come up to me and tell me he couldn't live without me. I'd be so happy and then we'd hug. And then he would kiss me. Just one small kiss. But then he'd be taken from me. I remember once, I was sitting on the bleachers and then he got pushed down them. And he couldn't get back up to me for some reason that I can't remember now. But he loved me so much, he fought his way to me. And he always made it back. 

When I got in to high school, the dreams changed even more.The "guy of my dreams" from before stopped showing up in them. Instead, it was always the current guy that had my interest. But, they followed my same pattern. He'd be taken away, then figure out how to come back. 

The first time my heart broke, I stopped dreaming about love at all. Instead, I'd wake up crying at 3. Every night. This happened for about a year. Then I met someone new. I continued to not dream about love, however, throughout the whole relationship. I then met someone else a few months later. I didn't date him, but he meant a lot to me as a friend and as a little more. 

The day he left, I started dreaming again. 

I started dreaming he'd come back and tell me he loved me. We'd kiss and hug and then suddenly, he'd have to leave. He would say "I love you, but I can't stay Maren." And he'd go. Some nights, I'd dream he would come back and we'd stay up all through the night talking. And when the sun would rise, he's repeat. "I love you, but I can't stay Maren." I'd cry and beg and he'd hug me and then he'd go. 

Those dreams would come and go, but in all they happened for a while. 

A few weeks after I graduated, I had one dream. In it, I was engaged. I wasn't getting married in the temple, though. Actually, I was getting married in my backyard. It was my wedding day and I went to go meet the groom somewhere. When I saw him, he was gross. Like, comic book man from The Simpsons type of gross. We got back to my house and I was getting ready for the wedding, but I looked out the window and he was standing there and I realized I had made a mistake. I couldn't marry him. I told my mom and we went and sat on the grass and I explained that I just wanted to be married so bad that I hadn't thought about who I was actually marrying. I had to explain to him that I just didn't love him and he was so heart broken. When I woke up, I realized I didn't want that at all. I was horrified to marry the wrong person. I didn't want love unless it was the one. 

The day I met him, I started really dreaming about love again. I would dream that we would spend the whole day just talking. I would dream that he would hold me through the night. I would dream that we were just so in love. I would dream about what our family would be like. And none of those dreams ever felt very out of reach. 

The more the relationship went on, the more these dreams would go on. But sometimes there would be a weird dream. There was a recurring one of me cheating on him. He'd see and we so heartbroken. But I'd apologize and tell him how much I love him. And he'd forgive me. And I'd realize I could never be with anyone else. 

The day he left, the dreams changed once more. There he'd be. Waiting for me. And I'd go up to him and ask him why he left. He'd tell me he didn't know. And that he wanted to come back so bad but he didn't know how. He'd tell me how much he loves me. But he just didn't know how to come back. I would start to cry and he'd hold me. I'd whisper "I can't stop dreaming about you. I can't stop dreaming about you." And he'd whisper "I know." And I'd wake up crying at 3. Every morning. Once again. 

Now I dream like that still. More often then I would like. But the "guy of my dreams" is also back. Its a mix between them. Either way, however, I'm just making stuff up. Because he doesn't love me anymore and isn't going to come back. And the guy doesn't even exist.

But here's the sad thing. These dreams are so out of reach. Love is so out of reach. 

Sometimes I dream about love.

And I don't think I can do this anymore. 

How to go crazy.

It happens often. 

I'll walk in to a building and as I walk around I see you. I see you sitting in every place I've seen you sit before. Like in those chairs in Rendezvous. Or on the couches in Big Lots.

It happens often. 

I'll walk downstairs and I see us laying on the couch together. Watching my little brother play that Mario game. Smiling. 

It happens often. 

I'll walk by your truck on my way to class and I see us sitting in there. Holding hands. Laughing. Kissing. 

It happens often. 

I'll drive by that park and I'll see you teasing me on our first date. Guess Who spread out on the grass and you far too close to my face than necessary for talking.

It happens often.

As I go to leave my house I'll glance in the mirror by the door and see us hugging. Me crying and you kissing my forehead, telling me goodbye. It feels so real that I almost think it's really happening again. Then I realize that in that mirror, I am blond. And in real life I'm not anymore. 

It happens often. 

I watch Tv and I glace over at the other couch and see us sitting there. Me crying and begging you not to leave. You telling me for the last time that I look pretty and that you'll miss me. 

It happens often. 

I walk out of work and see your truck sitting there. And I think of what I'll say to you when I go open that door. The decide it doesn't matter because you're there. That's all that matters. Then the closer I get, I realize you're not there. I'm standing alone in a parking lot. 

It happens often.

I'm sitting on your couch. Waiting for you to come down our dinner. Talking to your mom. Listening to your dad snore. You come down and hand me a plate and sit next to me. I kiss you and we just hold hands for a minute before we start to eat. Then I wake up. 

It happens often. 

Someone will saying something that reminds me of one of the stories you've told me. And I'll begin to tell it like it's still my story to tell. Then when I'm done telling the story I realize you're not mine anymore. That story should have no meaning to me anymore. 

It happens often. 

I'll walk through Walmart and as I pass the electronics, I see us standing there. You looking at some game and me looking at Sims. Occasionally stopping to quickly kiss and then move on.

It happens often. 

I go to bed and run through every touch and every word and every prayer. It doesn't help much with the sleeping.

It  happens often. 

I read my scriptures and I pray. In hopes that I will feel okay soon. And stop seeing these memories every where.

How to miss a scar.

I remember the day very vividly. 

We were out by your truck. Up on the hill leading to the performing arts center. It was still warm out. So it must have been a while ago. September probably. Right after I got my job. I was about to go to work and we were saying goodbye. We were kissing and hugging and life was perfect. Well, at one point you scratched me. Which, you know, wasn't uncommon. Except this time was like on my shoulder. Which was a little uncommon but I didn't mind. 

I got to work and I remember sitting there thinking about how bad my shoulder hurt. When I went and looked at it in the mirror, there was one single scratch mark going from a little behind my neck down to my collar bone. Really oddly placed. 

I didn't think much of it. 

But it was still there that night. 

And the next night. 

And the next. 

The longer it was there, the more I started analyzing it. It wasn't ever a cut. You hadn't scratched hard enough for that. It was always just a skinny red line. And I couldn't figure out why it wouldn't go away. 

Well, after a few months it just started showing up when I would get it wet. It wouldn't be there before a shower, but definitely there after. 

It's never left. 

There are nights when I just sit there and look at it for a few minutes. Just to remember what it was like when you were there with me.

Just now as I got out of the shower, I realized its gone.

I know it will be back. Theres been a few days where it hasn't shown up after a shower. 

And, like I always do recently, I looked for the symbolism in all of this. 

Its not the only scar you have ever left on me. 

But after a while, they will start to fade. They will start to only show up when something happens to bother them. But they will always be there for me to see. Always be there for me to sit and stare at and remember what it like when you were here with me. 

Some days, I won't see the scars at all. But they'll be back. 

Its strange how tonight I really miss that scar. It makes me feel like you're disappearing. 

But I guess its not really the scar I miss anyway.

How to learn from simple things.

As I sat in the chair while they drugged me up today, I realized a few things.

First, I sat down and they immediately put me on the gas to calm me down. I'm not a huge fan of people drilling at my teeth, by the way. So this was necessary.

Then they attempted to numb my mouth a little before they put the needle in to numb my mouth completely. I had to close my mouth for them to be able to do this effectively. Well, I did this and as I did, the assistant flipped a switch, thinking it was something else, and stopped my only airflow. I sat there for a moment trying to figure out what was going on before the girls realize I couldn't breathe. They looked at it for a while and never really figured out what happened. They eventually got it fixed and moved on with the horrible task at hand. 

They proceeded to stick that huge needle in to my mouth. After about 3 times, they poked around a little and decided that should be enough. Well, the dentist then came and started drilling. I could feel everything. As they noticed me wince, they immediately stopped drilling and stuck more needles in me. 

This didn't just happen once through the process, but 8 times. They couldn't figure out why I wouldn't go numb. Needless to say, I was pretty pissed off. 

Eventually, the dentist stuck the needle in, moved it around a bit, and found the spot that hadn't been numbed yet. It hurt so bad I wanted to cry. But after that, they began to drill and I felt nothing. All I could think about was how wonderful the gas was. 

The gas made me happy. Relaxed. Two things that I haven't been at all since February 5th at about 2 pm. 

Well, they filled the stupid cavities and I went to work and haven't been able to really open my mouth since. Yawning sucks. The muscle that they put that last shot in to is really pissed off now. 

But heres what I learned from this whole situation. 

First, sometimes things stop working and we just don't know why. That doesn't mean we should give up on them completely. It means we should press a few buttons, pray a little, and try again. I would have been so mad had they just given up on the gas once it stopped working.

Second, sometimes to stop future pain, we have to go through a lot of other pain. And not just once or twice, but sometimes 8 times. If that's what it takes to stop the ultimate pain, God puts you through it. Even though the pain may make you want to cry and yell and hate the person inflicting it on you, sometimes its the only way your going to be okay later. 

Third, sometimes when God knows your freaking out, he lets you go through it for a little while then pumps happy gas in to your life. It may only last a little while, and have very minimal effects, but it takes off the edge a little. This may come through any form. Like an actual gas (Drug addiction to this gas would be super fun). Or maybe from just being with friends. Or maybe from spiritual gain. These things don't solve all the problems. And they may only be there for a short amount of time. But they take off the edge. If only for a little while. 

And last, sometimes we have to deal with pain for a lot longer than we want to. And sometimes we re-injure ourselves. (Like when we yawn.) Sometimes it makes it hard to do anything. Like eat or sleep or talk to people. Sometimes we feel like the only thing we can do is keep our mouth shut and wait for it to pass so we can talk to someone about how badly it hurt. But, the pain will pass. Whether I will wake up fine tomorrow or not, at some point, I won't feel it anymore. 

Oh, and until it passes, loading up on Ibuprofen and milkshakes is always a positive when everything else seems so negative.

How to watch someone leave.

A year ago almost exactly I watched one of my best friends go through the hardest time of her life thus far. 

They used to be so perfect together. The way he'd talk about her. The way she teased him. The way they laughed together. The way they held each other up. 

There was a time where there wasn't really even a doubt in my mind that they would end up married. Sure, it would be years before that could happen. But oh how wonderful they were together. I've never watched a couple so closely before. 

I knew him better than I knew her. He would tell me everything. We'd stay up on Facebook late at nights and tell each other things that none of our other friends knew about us. He'd tell me about his hardest times and I'd give him advice and then he'd do the same for me in return. I trusted him with all my heart. I'd look at him and see this wonderful guy that would do anything for me. And not at all in a romantic way. Just best friends. 

She was never as open with stuff as he was. She was always just so happy. She would laugh at everything. We had parties at her house weekly. She was definitely a best friend, but not someone I'd go to tell my troubles to. Just someone to go to if you needed a distraction and to laugh. She was so lovely.

Then one day he just didn't like her anymore. 

All of us were confused. But I remember thinking that she would get over it quick. Cuz thats how she is. 

Well he came back, at a little urging from me, and they lasted a few more weeks. 

But he was so different. He's start saying things to me that scared me. Things like "I've done something bad. I can't tell you. You wouldn't understand."
And she became sad. 

Then he started dating one of her close friends. 

Quickly, he admitted to me that he had a problem.

Then he stopped telling me anything at all. 

We sent him constant messages, reminding him that he could fix it. Reminding him that we love him. And he shut us out. 

Besides being crushed myself because I had lost someone so close to me by something so disgusting, I had to watch my friends cope with it. 

We all varied in the ways we handled it. Some of us got really angry. Others tried to ignored it. Then there was me who would sit and stare at his page and wonder what happened. Or try to start a conversation and hope he would open up again. 

Then I also had to watch her go through it. 

Remember when I explained how constantly happy and bubbly she always was? 

That was gone. 

When I would ask how she was doing, there was no "Grrrreat!" reply anymore. She simply answered "I'm alright." 

I'd give her rides home and we'd talk for hours in her driveway. I'd tell her about my past break ups and how I got through them. She'd rant about him. She'd cry. 

She was broken. 

When we'd hang out, she'd quietly curl up and fall asleep most the time. Sometimes when we'd be out in public, she'd break down. And none of us knew what to do. There's only so much you can do. 

I remember trying so hard to help her. All the advice I gave out, all the times I'd hug her. 

I knew she would be okay. I could look at her and just see the potential her life had. She was beautiful and fun, even when she was so heartbroken. I knew it wouldn't be long before she would be happy again.

Now I'm in her position. And all the advice people give me is all the advice I once gave her. 

"You'll find someone else. Someone a thousand times better." 

"Don't think about it. He doesn't deserve you."

"Keep praying. God has a better plan."

And now I see how ridiculous it all sounds. 

What if I don't find someone else? What if there isn't someone better than him and I'm stuck living my life thinking about how great he was?

What if I can't stop thinking about it? What if I don't deserve him?

What if God doesn't have a better plan? What if its just one hard thing to another and praying won't stop that at all?

I look at her now and see her smile again. She still hurts on some level. But shes happy. Shes loud again and answers that her life is going great whenever someone asks. Shes dating new people and moving on with life. 

Everything that I knew would happen for her. 

So why can't I see anything like that happening for me?

And do other people see it happening for me?

I guess I look at her as inspiration. 

The girl that I held up on so many occasions is now one of the only things keeping me going. Funny how that works, isn't it? 

The point of this story is, that sometimes we lose people we love very much.

I miss my best friend who got caught up in pornography. 

And now I miss my best friend who stopped loving me. 

And its sad to watch them go. 

Its sad to watch someone you have loved for so long, walk away. You want them to stay so you can hold on to them and keep them out of trouble or keep them safe. 

You want them to stay so when they make a mistake, you can know and get them back on the right path.

You want them to stay so when they hurt, you can hold them and know they are going to be alright. 

Because when they are gone, all you can do is stare at pictures and pray they will be okay. Pray that they wont ever forget you. 

And hope they know that your still there when they want to come back. Hope they know that you wouldn't even have to think twice about letting them come back in to your life.You'd be there with arms open.

And cry to our Father in Heaven that he will take away the pain and let you sleep at night comfortably again. Ask him to let you find someone new to love like that. Because there's just too much love in each of us to not share it. And there's just too much pain in each of us to not have someone else with you through it.

How to be uneasy.

A few weeks ago in relief society a girl explained the feeling of waking up with a ring on her finger. She said she looked at it and instantly felt "Oh boy. Is this the right thing?" but as she looked at it more, she was so reassured it was.

One morning I woke up without a ring on my finger. Just like every other day. But for the first time in all 18 years of my life, I had the same thought process as her. "Oh boy. Is this the right thing?" But the more I looked it, the more uneasy I felt. No reassuring feeling comforted me.

Every morning I wake up without a ring on my finger. And I think of how close I was. And every morning I feel uneasy about it.

I don't know if its exactly that I expected to marry him. Well, no. I did. But I'm not sure if that's why I still feel that feeling every morning. Maybe its just a fear that there will never be a ring there. Because no one else will ever love me like he did.

But I guess there isn't a whole lot I can do about that.

I'll continue to wake up without a ring on my finger and wonder why he never put one there. Wonder if there will ever be one there.

How to keep silent.

I keep waiting for the moment where I realize that I'm getting better. 

But for some strange reason I think I'm just getting worse. 

And you know what sucks? 

When I'm so deeply in need of someone to talk to about it, no one really gets it. Don't get me wrong, I know they love me. I know any one of my friends would spend hours talking to me about it. But they missed out on so much of that 6 months of my life, that I couldn't possibly even begin to tell them what this is like. 

So I stopped trying. 

When people ask me whats wrong, I smile and shake my head. Keep silent. 

When someone looks at me with concern, I smile and look away. Keep silent. 

When someone starts talking about him, I smile and start focusing on a different conversation. Keep silent. 

When someone asks if I'm doing better, I smile and nod. Keep silent. 

When I think about him, I stop smiling and I start to cry. But I keep silent. 

Maybe the more silent I am, the less I will feel the need to scream all the time. 

How to explore who you are.

All I can think about is the words I want to write but all I can write about is the words I don't want. 

Same thing? Possibly.

I'm not happy. 

I don't know how to be happy. 

I read all the self help feel good crap that I can find. 

I spend hours with my friends. 

I have a good job. 

I'm finding new things to do. 

I'm exploreing who I am.

But I'm not happy. 

I don't know how to be. 

Maybe that's who I am. 

Not happy. 

That didn't take a lot of exploring.

How to look in the mirror.

I'm nothing special. I don't have some remarkable talent. I can't change lives. I mess up important things. I am sometimes very rude. I cry more than I should. I look good maybe once a week. And sometimes I just sit and watch the world go by. 

I used to be good at giving advice. People would be crying and I could let them cry to me and I always knew exactly what to say. We'd smile and hug and they'd feel better. 

I used to be that friend. The one that everyone knew they could go to at any time of day or night and I'd be there.

I used to be that girl. You know, the one who went to every church gathering and had one of the strongest testimonies. The girl who couldn't even imagine that one day she'd mess up. 

I used to be the girl who sent thank you notes all the time. Just little notes to tell my friends I love them. I made sure they knew how lost I'd be without them. 

I used to be a lot of things.

Now I look in the mirror and don't know at all who I see. I don't smile the same. My eyes look constantly tired. I don't look healthy. 

When I look in the mirror, I see a girl who's face is dried out from all the tears shes cried in the last few years. I see a girl who's hurt too many friends. I see a girl who dyed her hair just to forget the past. I see a girl who made a lot mistakes, but can't move passed them because she actually misses them instead of regrets them. I see a girl who can't help her friends anymore. 

And apparently that girl is me. 

But I swear I don't know her. 

How to live for the moment.

Just for today, I'm going to forget about the past.

Just for today, I'm going to smile at every person I make eye contact with. 

Just for today, I'm going to only listen to happy music. 

Just for today, I'm gonna flirt with every (single) boy I talk to. 

Just for today, I'm gonna look up at the sky and smile. 

Just for today, I'm gonna love my friends more than anything. 

Just for today, I'm gonna forget about tomorrow. 

Just for today, I'm gonna smile when remembering "us" instead of crying. 

Just for today, I'm gonna allow myself to feel. 

Just for today, I'm gonna be happy. 

Just for today, I'm gonna live to the fullest. 

Just for today, because tomorrow might never come.

How to be scared.

It's easy to be scared. 

Life is full of what if's. 

What if I fail that test? What if I can't make enough money to do the things I want to do? What if my best friend dies tomorrow? What if I never find love again? What if I don't wake up in the morning? 

These flood the mind like nothing else can. And the more we think about them, the more scared we become. 

Because guess what. We really don't know whats in store for us next. 

It's easy to be scared of what we don't know. Its even easier to be scared of what we don't know and can't even control. 

I can control if I fail a test or not. There are things I can do to prevent it. I also know what it takes to make the type of money I need and will continue to need. But there are some things we just can't control. 

We can't control if we lose a best friend. We can't stop someone from dying. We can't stop someone from making some really stupid decisions. We don't when these things are going to happen, and we can't control them even if we did know. 

Its easy to be scared when looking in to the eyes of a best friend. When will be the last time you will look in those eyes? When will what's inside of those eyes, change? When will you stop being able to recognize the person you know so well in those eyes? When will those eyes shut for the last time? 

Its easy to be scared when watching someone walk away. When will they come back? Will they come back? Will someone else ever love you again like they did? 

Fear is easy. 

Whats hard is letting go of that fear and taking chances. 

Fear stops people from doing so many things. Maybe a girl wants to be the star of a musical, but shes scared she won't make it so she doesn't even try. These situations happen all the time. And they might be whats causing us to be less than our full potential. 

I don't know whats going to happen tomorrow. No one does. I may wake up to America being bombed. I may find out at noon that a best friend is now dead. I may start talking to the guy of my dreams. I don't know whats going to happen. And I'm scared to death of what it may be. 

But I also know theres no avoiding these things. 

Life happens. 

It's easy to be scared. 

But we can't let it hold us back.

How to not understand.

You got what you wanted. 

You can be sad now without hurting anyone else. You can cry without making anyone else cry. You can hurt without making anyone want to stop it. 

And I'm sure you're happy about that. You probably don't miss how upset I would get when I would watch you be in pain. I'm sure you feel no regret being sad anymore. 

And some level, I'm happy for you. Because finally you can be okay with yourself. Because I'm not there making you feel bad anymore, even though that was never my intention anyway. But I'm glad you aren't beating yourself up over being sad anymore. Maybe this way you'll figure out how to be happy. 

But on a much bigger level, I'm sad for you. Because you let go of the only person out of the 6 billion people on this earth that loves you. And now you go to school and you're alone. You go to work and you're alone. You go home and you're alone. And you chose that. You looked at the only person in the world who loved you like that, and told her to stop. Told her she wasn't good enough. 

I'm alone now, too. I know that. But I also can face being alone by realizing that it was not my choice. I know if it had been my choice I'd still be holding your hand. I wouldn't be sitting alone at lunch praying someone will talk to me. And that makes me feel better because I know I respect myself more than to let myself be alone. I didn't choose this for myself. You chose it for me. So its not my fault. 

You, on the other hand, chose this. You're the one who didn't respect yourself enough to allow yourself to not be alone. To allow yourself to be happy. 

So now I look at you and I feel sad. 

I'm torn between wanting you to be miserable without me and wanting you to be happy. I'd never want you to be sad. But I don't want you to stop missing me either. 

It's funny really. All those months of "I won't be the one to leave you." "Why would I leave you? I have no where else to go." "I love you." 

Where did those months go? And what changed? 

You got what you wanted. 

You can be sad now without me getting hurt. 

But what I can't see is how that freedom of being able to be sad became more appealing to you than a life with someone you love. 

I can't see why you threw away everything just so you can sit alone and be sad. 

We both know this wasn't about me. 

It's always been about you.

How to feel empty.

I get told I'm beautiful on a regular basis still. 

But I don't believe it. 

The words don't have the same effect that they used to have when you said them.

How to be disillusioned.

I'd like to know who was in charge of teaching me when I was young that love is complete bull shit.

"All you need is Love."

"If your a bird, I'm a bird.

"And they lived happily ever after."

I wanna know why I grew up hearing all that, when what I should have been hearing is that none of it is true.

Because here's the simple truth of the matter.

No matter how you met them. No matter how happy they make you. No matter how good they make you feel about yourself. No matter how many times they tell you they love you. No matter how often they swear to never leave you. It always ends.

"You'll find someone."

Oh yeah? Is that so? Please explain to me how you know that first off. And then try to tell me that he won't leave. You can't? Weird. Then please shut the hell up because I hate empty promises.

But isn't that what life is all about, anyway? Empty promises from everything and everyone? 

"It'll all work out for the better." 

Why do people assume that they know that? It doesn't always work out for the better. So why lie to me and make me think that maybe it could. 

You know, I see all these happy couples. Been together for years and years and years. And I suppose when I look at them I should see what love really is. Because I know people will read this and think of their parents or some other significant couple in their life and think "No Maren. My parent's never left each other. Love is real." 

I'm not arguing that love isn't real. I'm arguing that it's shit. 

It never sticks around for forever. At some point it always goes away. Maybe its just for a few days or maybe it leaves forever. I assume that's why some marriages work and others don't. Some times people fall out of love and then find it again later. Other couples never find it again and their relationship ends. 

But the point is, at some point, love hurts us all. 

So why the hell do we keep searching for it everyone? 

Do we really honestly believe that love is going to make us happy? 

I was with him for 6 months. I loved him for 5 of those. Spend a month getting to know each other, then quickly fall in love. Romantic, right? Well hows this for a love story: I spent more hours than I can count on both hands letting him cry in my arms. Not me crying in his arms like gender roles have made us believe is politically correct, but me holding him and being the strong one. I spent hours which have added up to days which have probably added up to a good few weeks with him, abandoning my friends, because I knew he needed me. I spent nights with my friends where all I could do was text him because I was scared of what would happen if I left him alone in the dark. I sacrificed homework some nights just so I could hold him, because I didn't want to leave him alone for a night because I didn't want him to hurt. I took loud toys away from children  and then held them so they would stop crying around him and he could have quiet so his head wouldn't hurt as bad. I loved him till I started to hurt too, because I just wanted to take it away from him. 

And then in the end he told me he blamed me for not staying with him when it was dark. 

I slept maybe 6 hours every night after everything he put me through. I was exhausted. But I never would have taken it back. But then he leaves me because I had to leave him every night for those 6 hours? 

I like to think that the whole relationship was a wonderful love story. And throughout the whole relationship, I would have done anything to keep it that way. It was romantic because of all the time and effort and love put in to keeping us both going. I gave a lot of myself to it. 

But in the end it ended up just like everything else in the world.

Because now I'm tired. And I don't know who I am. And I don't even have the one person who can hold my hand and make me feel alright again. 

Earlier today someone told me that "everyones felt lonliness at least once in their life." 

This isn't simply loneliness that I'm feeling though. Because in all reality, I'm not all that lonely. I have these wonderful friends that keep me busy most every night so that I'm never really alone except for when I go to bed. I mean, yeah I'm lonely in the sense of I miss having someone love me. But that's not a big deal. I've spent a majority of my life being alone in that sense. It's not that hard to revert back to that. 

And really I'm doing better than I thought I would be. Like I said before in an earlier post. It's not so hard anymore. 

I wouldn't call this loneliness. No. And I wouldn't call me a mess either. Because I'm doing fine in both those aspects. 

I'm just disillusioned with everything I grew up believing.

How to hate today.

Today hurt. 

I didn't like it. 

That's all.