How to feel... Better.

Is it weird that I LOVE that people have slowed down on reading these? 

Makes me feel less like my every step is being watched. 

I don't have a lot to say today. But I can't stop writing now. This is the longest I've ever gone writing every day. 

I guess here's my thoughts of the day. 

I feel okay. I feel better. Life is moving on. I'm figuring out how to breathe again. I can smile without forcing myself now. Eating only makes me feel sick sometimes. And laughing isn't nearly as hard. 

Life goes on. 

I'm going to continue to miss him. Continue to want to run up and hug him every time I see him. Continue to think about what could have been. Continue to love him. 

Why? Because those are things I can't change. 

What I can change is how I live. I can change how I view the world and the people in it. 

"It's all in the past. Time to move on, Babe."-Gala.

I know it's time to move on. And I can do that. But there are some things that move on with me.

How to be happy.

Love is a funny thing. 

This weekend I dedicated it purely to healing. But it didn't start this way. 

I woke Saturday morning to an empty house. I went to go downstairs and as I got to the stairs I just couldn't move further. All I could think about was how alone I was going to be if I went down there. Alone to sit and stare out that window like I did 3 weeks ago. I didn't want to go down there. I couldn't be alone. 

So I crawled back in to bed. I stayed there for quite a while before realizing that I couldn't waste my day like that. I wanted so bad to go take pictures, to go lay in the grass, to go be happy. But it was cold. As much as I wanted those things, they weren't going to happen. 

So I got on, wrote a blog, and sat in self pity some more. What was I going to do with the rest of my day? I started to google ideas. Like usual. 

And I came across Gala Darling's list of 100 ways you can start loving yourself right now. 

Eye-opener right there. 

I spent hours yesterday reading her stuff. 

When I got to the article about EFT, I was amazed. That's some cool shit. 

Anyway. It really got me thinking about love. Which isn't weird considering how much its on my mind lately. 

But really. The whole thing was about loving yourself. Like, so much. And it kinda got me thinking about why we love other people. Like, romantically. People often say that when they are in a relationship, they are the happiest they have ever been. But why is that? Is it because they are experiencing love? If we all loved ourselves, like so so much, then would being with someone romantically really make us any happier?

Maybe that's whats wrong with so many relationships. We don't love ourselves enough. A relationship isn't just about that romantic "oh I'm so in love and so happy because I finally have you" thing. A relationship should be two people who love themselves, loving each other. Two people agreeing to spend their lives together and to work through hard times together. Two people experiencing the world together. It's not about making the other people feel loved. Its not about making the other person happy. They should already be both of those things. Its about finding someone who loves themselves as much as you love them. Its about finding someone who loves you as much as you love you. Then living together in mutual happiness and love. Growing together in that. 

Love is a funny thing. Some people spend their whole lives looking for it. Trying to find it just so they can be happy. When really, its just in you. All the love you need is in you. All the happiness you need is made by you.

Its just hard to find it sometimes.

How to let go of dreams.

Sometimes I stare at this screen for hours. Just looking. Just trying to decide what to say. I'm wary of saying the wrong thing. I don't want someone to read this and think I'm too dramatic or too sad or too immature or too whatever else. I almost want people to read this and see a side of me they've never seen before. Something they never knew existed.

Sometimes I think about junior year. First few days and I was totally set for life to get better. I was done being sad all the time, summer had been good. There was a new guy in my life. I actually had lines in the musical. I love my English class. Life was going to be good. The day my choir director told me there were going to be Trouveres try outs again, I was almost convinced I'd make it in. I had tried so hard the year before to suck up to him. I had tried so hard to becoming a better singer. So I practiced and practiced and practiced. Then I didn't make it. I went home that night and tried not to be too upset. There was always next year. So I got on my knees and prayed that night. I promised I would read my scriptures every day for the whole school year if he promised I would make Trouveres the next year. And I did. I went through the school year watching my friends enjoy being in trouveres, something I had wanted since the 6th grade. I tried being happy for them, talking myself in to believing that it wasn't a big deal. It honestly wasn't too bad. That year was a hard year though. I fell in love with someone I thought I could trust, but ended up not being able to trust them at all. That took me far too long to get over. It was one of those times in my life that I wasn't sure I'd ever feel happy again. I wasn't sure the pain would ever end. The days dragged on and I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. I wasn't sure why the Lord would do that to me, why he would make me like this. But I kept my side of the deal. Every night. All year. As the end of the year drew closer and I started to gradually feel better, my friends stated discussing whether or not they were going to try out for trouveres for the next year. I prepared a song. Prayed alot. And read my scriptures for longer and longer every night. The night before try outs, I sat down on my floor and thought about it. I had already signed up for a time. I had the song prepared. I had read every single night. I was ready. But I didn't want it anymore. And I couldn't figure out why I didn't want it anymore. I didn't show up for try outs the next day. I went to choir, stood by the door for a minute, then left. I cried that night because I didn't know why I didn't go. I had put so much time and effort in to it. I had wanted it so bad. Senior year I watched the trouveres perform. I was surprised to find that there were very few occasions that I kinda wanted to be on stage with them. All senior year, I continued to read my scriptures every night. And I still do. I feel like God and I still have a deal going on, although I'm not sure what it is anymore. Anyway, the point of this story is, I know why I didn't do trouveres now. I wouldn't be who I am right now if I had. Sometimes we want things really extremely bad. And we put alot of time and effort in to getting them. We pray alot and almost expect to get it. Then out of no where, we realize thats not what God has in store for us. And it sucks to look back at what you almost had. It's a sad feeling. All you can do is ask why that couldn't be. But then you look around at where you are now and realize all the wonderful things you have and have experienced that you would have if you had gotten that thing. 

So maybe thats what I need to remember now. 

I didn't do trouveres and I was sad. I don't have him and I am sad. 

But life moves on. Maybe theres a better plan.

How to not come up with a good title.

All 6 months, well, 5 and a half ish, felt like a dream. One beautiful dream. At any given moment, I was sure I'd wake up soon. 

Then it ended. And the pain feels more real than anything else I have ever experienced. 

I don't think it should work that way. I think the relationship should have felt real. I should have felt every single moment of it and taken it all in. I should have thanked God every single day of my life because of how blessed I was to have it all. Then when it ended, that should feel like a dream. Just one fleeting moment that I could wake up from at any moment and feel okay again.

How to procrastinate.

Started a philosophy paper that's due tomorrow at about 11. Procrastination just hit a whole new level for me. And then, on top of that, I can't help but post tonight.

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I have nothing to say though. Well, nothing but....

Come back.

How to.......................................................

There are days where I....

There are moments that I.....

There are times when I....

Just can't find the words. 

I think it's about time I find the poem in me. I bet that will feel good.

But then it will just bring me back to the question I seem to ask myself all the time now. 

Where do I start?

Where do I start telling the story from? What feeling do I begin explaining first?

Where do I start?

How to try to wake up.

"I can't stop dreaming about you. I can't stop dreaming about you." "I know, Maren. I know."

Sometimes, waking up is a lot easier than being stuck in a dream that feels too realistic. You know, one of those dreams that you swear is real, the kind that you wake up from and still swear it happened, the kind that you just can't get out of your mind for the rest of the day?

Yeah. Dreaming is hard.

How to answer stupid questions.

People ask a lot of questions that they don't really want to know the answers to.

"Where has he been lately?"

"Why did you guys break up?"

"Did you do it or did he do it?"

"Was it a mutual thing?"

"Do you guys still talk?"

"Do you think he might come back?"

"Are you okay?"

See, lets try to answer these.

Where has he been lately? Oh I don't know. School. Work. Then home to sit on his computer. Probably talking to other girls. Maybe occasionally going to visit people. Maybe. Anywhere but here. 

Why did we break up? I wish I could tell you. Maybe its because I'm not pretty enough or skinny enough or good enough. Yeah, that's probably it. Because if I was any of those things, he probably wouldn't have left. 

Who did it? Him. All him. I wouldn't have ever dreamed of doing this to him. 

Was it a mutual thing? Um. No. if it was up to me, he'd still be here. 

Do we still talk? No. He deleted me off Facebook, which probably means he deleted my number as well. Plus, it would probably hurt way to effing bad to try to talk to him now. 

Do I think he might come back? Really? Why would anyone ask this? No. I don't think he might come back. He doesn't want me anymore. He doesn't want to come back. So why would he? 

Am I okay? What type of answer does someone actually want from this question? Because if I say yes, they know I'm lying and feel bad for me. But when I say no, I'm not okay, people get all awkward and never know what to say after that. 

So honestly, stop asking stupid questions people. If you don't want to know the truth, don't ask. 

It hurts to try to answer them anyway.

How to be numb.

I didn't think people were actually reading these. But, apparently, I was stupid, because this is the internet and people do read things on the internet. Isn't that what life is all about now?

I'm going to start by saying no, I do not have an eating disorder.

Yeah yeah yeah, I didn't eat for a few days. And I'm still not eating a whole heck of a lot now. But it's more of because the idea of food makes me sick, rather than I feel like I need to stop eating. But I'm trying harder now. I know it's not healthy to stop eating, and frankly I kinda like not feeling like I'm dying all the time.

So no. No eating disorder here.

Anyway, now that that's out of the way... to the real blog!

I realize something today.

When things hurt really bad, when life gets to hard to handle, sometimes you just stop feeling. 

I wondered if maybe that was when the pain reached almost a whole new level. Like, it hurts so bad that you just don't know how to feel or what to do. But, I think I've decided its God's way of calming us down. He allows us to stop feeling the pain when he knows we've reached the point that we can't handle feeling it anymore. 

Now, of course this isn't always the case. If it was, there wouldn't be nearly as many suicides or other horrible things going on in the world. Obviously, he only takes it away to an extent. He lets us live our lives. And if we choose to still feel it, we can. 

But for me, I choose to not feel anymore. Not right now. Not this pain. I just don't think I can.

How to stay busy.

It's like I'm reverting back to the me I was during the summer.

I can laugh and smile. I rely on friends to keep me going. I feel a little empty. I'm constantly sore. I'm constantly tired. 

Just like last summer.

Only the weather sucks now. An extreme amount. 

I have to stay busy. That's all there is to it. Its when I sit down and think that I begin to have a problem. That's when I start to miss him too much. 

Staying busy is getting harder though. Well, in some aspects.

See, when I'm at school, all I do is sit and listen. Which leads to day dreaming. Which leads to him. Then I go to work. And sit and scan. Which leads to extreme day dreaming. Which leads to him. I've been working hard at work to not think about him. I talk to the girls a lot more. I try a lot harder to be social and all that. But as soon as I start doing better, they decide to move me to the room of isolation. All alone in a small little room. With so much time to think. So much quiet to fill with my own thoughts. And I'm scared to death of my own thoughts now. I hate thinking. I hate feeling. 

When I get off work I spend time with friends. Or I at least try to. And all we do is dance. I never knew being so active would feel so good. It feels good to be sore. It takes my mind off of how bad it hurts to breathe still. Its safer than not eating too.

On a different note...

"She sees the storm clouds gather. The sky is turning cold and gray. She knows that somethings coming when she starts to feel this way. She pleads for intervention. But heaven offers no relief. And she would understand if she could only see, sometimes He lets is rain. He lets the fierce winds blow. Sometimes it takes a storm to lead a heart where it can grow."

This song is almost always stuck in my head now. 

How to stop feeling.

Sometimes there aren't words.

It's not that there aren't words that describe it. It's more like there aren't words in my head. 

I seem to have stopped feeling as much. 

Waking up is the hardest. Sitting alone at lunch is right next to that. And weekends are next to that. 

But other than those times, I seem to have figured out how to stop feeling. 

I suppose I really should be trying to figure out how to make myself  happy, rather than just not feeling at all. But this way is easier. 

This way I can look at myself in the mirror without hating what I see. 

Oh, who am I trying to kid? 

I'm always going to hate what I see.

How to... move on?

Life moves on. 

The sun still rises in the morning. 

The weather still can't make up its mind.

Classes still take place (whether I go to them or not).

I still grow older. 

People still have sex.

Babies still are born.

People still die. 

Love still happens. 

Hearts still break. 

Life moves on.

Whether I want it to or not. 

How to love.

Being as yesterday was Valentines Day, ideas of love are everywhere. 

Proposal stories and pictures are posted on Facebook. Girls are wearing the jewelry their boyfriends bought them. Couples are holding hands. 

It's supposed to be a wonderful holiday, one to celebrate love. But for the people who are single, whata re we celebrating? 

I find that some people celebrated their love for their friends. I myself even got a wonderful present from a wonderful friend yesterday. Some people celebrated their love for their families. Dads drove to colleges to take their daughters out to dinner. And some people didn't celebrate at all. 

For those of us who are single, sometimes it a lot harder to celebrate love when we aren't in it. 

Today, while sitting at school, a group of girls came up to me and asked me a few questions about love, for some survey or something. I allowed them a few minutes and they immediately asked "What is love?"

It brought me back to that wonderful September day that an amazing person once told me the answer. 

Love is a verb. Once you start doing it, you start feeling it. 

They loved that answer. They kept telling me it was the best answer they had heard so far. I wanted to say it wasn't mine, that I had stolen it, but I couldn't bring myself to admit I didn't really believe it anymore.

After they left, I couldn't stop thinking about love. 

Do I really think love is a verb? Yes, you can show love through actions. But is love the action itself? Or is love just a feeling that passes, like it has so many times in my life and in the lives of people all around me?

I started to think about him then. If love was a verb, why did he still tell me he loved me as he walked out the door? He was not showing love at that moment. He was leaving. The words and the action conflicted. 

Throughout our whole relationship, he showed love in extraordinary ways. It was in the thousands of little things he did for me each day that he doesn't even know about. And I tried to show love, too. I know I wasn't very good at it. But I wanted to be so bad. Its just that with all the emotional weight being brought on my shoulders throughout the relationship, it became harder and harder to show love in other actions but to try to hold him up still. So I must have stopped showing it. But I never stopped feeling it. 

But as he walked out that door and told me he loved me, did he love me? Or was he just saying it to make the break easier? 

This morning as I walked to class, I walked by his truck once again. My stuff was gone. 

The other night as I got on Facebook, I realized he had deleted me. 

So as I walked back to my car, I started to put together that he doesn't love me anymore. 

Now, I'm not exactly a complete mess about it. I love him very much, but I suppose it was only a matter of time anyway. 

But while realizing this and trying to accept it, I wanted to cry. There was so much love there, and now its gone. Where did it go? What happened to it? Why did it leave? 

I started to ponder it more. Wondering when he stopped showing love and when he started just saying it. I couldn't place a time. Wanna know why? Because I don't think  he ever did. 

I know its dangerous to tell myself that he still loves me. I don't know if he does, or when he will stop. 

But, while he walked out that door, he was loving me in a way that I couldn't comprehend at that time. If he honestly thought that was the only way, he was leaving for both of us. He was letting me go so I could live a better life. Although I'm going to continue to think he is wrong, maybe that was the only way he knew how to love me at that moment. 

And if I love him, I'd let him go. 

I don't need to be angry at him. I don't need to hold him back. 

Letting go is an action. And verb is an action. Love is a verb. 

Love is letting go. 

"You'll never share your love, until you love yourself, I should know."

Rent speaks it best. 

I need to love myself. 

And if its true, if love is a verb, the only way I'm going to love myself is if I let myself move on. 

I don't exactly know how to do this. But if I'm ever going to love someone else again, I'm going to have to love myself. I need to stop making myself hurt. 

Love is a verb. Now how do I do it after I've been so worn out?

How to trust.

"I have trusted in thee, and I will trust in thee forever."

Sometimes that's the hardest part about life. Trust.

Trust that someone won't leave you. Trust that you won't mess everything up. Trust that there is a plan. 

I find that when life is going good, at first I'm immensely appreciative. But as time goes on and life is still going good, I completely forget what it was like when life was bad, and I forget to be thankful. I just expect life to say that way. But as soon as it goes bad, I realize everything I had and realize that I have lost all faith.

Its not so much that I stop believing. It's more that I haven't bothered trying to strengthen that faith at all for a long time, and suddenly when I need it the most, its gone.

Trust is the hardest thing.

Trust that God knows what hes doing. Trust that He has a plan. Trust that He's there. 

How to not give up.

Sometimes I wonder why I write these. Then, the answer seems obvious. It feels good. But if that's my only reason, then why write it in a blog? Why not a journal or something? Why for the world to read?

I think I've decided I do it because I just can't be the only one going through this. And maybe there's someone else out there that needs to read these.Who knows who will stumble upon my humble little blog and find some type of comfort in the words, maybe the same comfort I find in it.

Blog is a weird word. By the way.

It kinda sounds like Blargh. you know, the type of sound people make while throwing up. Maybe it's symbolic.

Anyway. 

Today was bittersweet. I think there will be many bittersweet days to come.

I started fine. Shocked even to wake up and see my hair brown. Blond to brown is a strange transition. 

On my way to church I realized he wasn't going to be there, and I began to pray. Just like I always do now. What else could I do? What else is there for me to do now but to cling to the only one who knows whats going to happen?

As the day went on it gradually got harder and harder. 

I miss him too much. 

Sometimes, I just want to lay in bed and not wake up. Waking up is too hard. I'm so tired. 

But at the same time, I have no choice but to wake up. Because if I don't, I'll be missing out on so much. Like the way the weather is changing. Its finally gradually getting warmer. Or the way my friends are growing, becoming who they will be for the rest of their lives. Things like that. How can I give that up?

Yeah. It gets dark. And the dark is hard to face alone. 

Yeah. There is a lot of pain. That's life. 

But how can you give up all the wonderful things, even if its going to be a while before you have them again, just because of those things?

How can you give up?

How to feel very alone.

Most days in our life are insignificant. After the day passes, chances are we will barely remember it at all. However, when someone leaves, all those days are brought to memory, and its hard to forget them again. 

I'm trying real hard to be okay. And on most days I'm fine. When I'm not alone, I'm fine. Just further reminder that yes, I'm going to be fine. 

But as the days pass it becomes harder and harder to think that everything's going to work out, that God has a plan. It doesn't matter how much I pray or read my scriptures, I'm still getting the feeling that this is wrong. And I still feel completely uneasy about my future. Will I ever find that "right person"? I don't know.

What if I did find that "right person" and it was him? And now that's all ruined? People keep telling me, if he was the right one then he will come back. Well what if I know hes not coming back, but what if he was the right one? Then I'll never find anyone else. 

I know how ridiculous I sound. 

I know how pathetic I sound as well. 

But keep in mind, I have no one comforting me anymore. Friends can only do so much. 

The first week of dealing with this is over. It can only get easier from here on, right? 

I think in some aspects, yes. But in others, no. I don't know when I will ever stop worrying about him. And I think the longer I go without him, the worse the worrying will get. 

But, I guess that will pass as well. It has to. 

Well, I'm off to church. Maybe I'll feel good there. I will post again tonight, no doubt.

How to lose your mind.

"It's not supposed to be this way, I'm so far from okay."

Only 4 and I have to write again.

Apparently weekends are going to be the hardest. Eff.

I don't think I can do this anymore. It  hurts to breathe. It hurts to look in the mirror. It hurts to close my eyes. It hurts to open my eyes. It hurts to move. It hurts to go anywhere. It hurts just to be here.

I don't know what to do.

It doesn't make sense. This obviously isn't the best thing for either of us. He's not happy. I'm not happy. How is this better?

I didn't even get the chance to try.

I don't want to be here anymore.

How to miss him.

I couldn't write last night. My brother took my computer. I told him yes, thinking I would be okay without writing for just one night. But I wasn't. 

You know whats funny? At the end of the relationship, a little over a week ago, I would have given anything to understand him better so he wouldn't feel the need to leave. I researched stuff and thought it all over and did everything I could just to better understand what hes going through. I guess it wasn't till after we broke up that I have started to get any sort of idea of what he was always telling me about. And, knowing that I still probably don't know the big picture of it, I so wish I had been there for him more. I would have stayed up all night if I had understood. 

I did a stupid thing this morning. I turned on my old cell phone. And read my old text messages. 

They were so loving and happy. It bothered me because I just wanted to know where it went wrong, when things started changing between us. And I placed it. The suicide. About a month ago. 

If I could change that night, I would. Everything about it. My friend wouldn't have killed himself and nothing bad would have ever happened in our relationship. See, I know that's not true, bad things would have still happened. But I can't help but feeling like he'd still be here if that night hadn't happened.

In a few hours its been a week since he left. 

And I want to beg him to come back.

But I can't. 

I can't help but wonder if he even hurts. If he misses me at all. If he wishes he could come back. If he needs me as much as I need him. If he's sleeping again yet.

I feel like there's all this love bottled up in me now. No way to get out. If I could give it to him, I would. I'd drive to him right now and then never stop loving him.

This weekend is hard. 

A lot harder than I expected it to be.

And I've never wanted so much to just be in his arms.

How to be always okay.

Tomorrow I begin eating regular meals again. 

Now, I can't promise they will be big meals, but at least it will be something. 

I woke up this morning terribly sick. I couldn't stand up. My nose wouldn't stop bleeding. Even just opening my eyes made me dizzy. And I knew it was because of how little I've eaten this last week. 

A week. Wow. Tomorrow its been a week since I stopped eating. That's the longest I've ever gone. Provided that I've eaten a small amount within that time. But still. By far the longest I've ever made it.

Here's my thoughts of the day. 

I always sympathized with Bella. You know, from Twilight. This idea of true love and them wanting to do everything for you. Then he left. 

When I read this I was so sad for her. The months passed by and she couldn't function. And I always imagined that's how I would be too if it happened to me. 

Now lets take out the ridiculous part about vampires and such and view the story from there.

Girl meets boy. Girl is fascinated by boy but boy hardly notices her. Boy starts talking to her. They fall in love. Boy brings a lot of baggage in to relationship. Girl is willing to accept all of it because she loves him. Boy hurts girl a few times. Boy is scared of hurting girl more. Boy tries to leave, believing it is the best thing to do for girl. Boy sees no way of making it work. Boy tries to leave and girl won't accept it. Boy finally tells girl that she isn't good enough and leaves. Girl is heartbroken. 

Hu. Sounds familiar. 

Now, being the girl in this situation, I finally can put Bella's heartbreak in to perspective.

Yes. It hurts. Like, really effing bad. And it is really hard to go back to friends and ask for their help after being gone from them for so long. And even every day tasks seem to take a huge amount of effort. 

But honestly, Bella was pathetic. She couldn't move on. She was killing herself. Making herself miserable. 

I'm going to be sad about it for a while. I get that. But at least I understand how pathetic is too pathetic. I'm not going to sit and mope around. I'll never be okay if that's what I do.

So now, I have no sympathy for Bella. 

I saw him today. Sitting by my class. It didn't hurt as bad as I expected it to. The only part that hurt was looking at how miserable he looked and not being able to hold him and tell him its alright. I went and did my homework. Trying to avoid looking at that heartbreaking smile he had on every time I looked at him. But I guess I know him too well. As his body began moving differently, even slight movements, I could see him getting worse. I've never wanted so badly to just hold him. But I couldn't. 

I need him to be happy. Not even happy, actually. I need him to be okay. So I maybe might have sent him a kinda rude message telling him to do things for himself and to stop worrying about everyone and everything else. 

I'm gonna stay. Right here. If he came back, this is where I would be. But if he doesn't come back. That's life. And life always moves on. And there is a plan.

And I'm "always okay."

How to have an okay day.

"We always want the people we love to stay. We don't want them to leave us. It's not so much that we don't want them to grow and change; it's more that we don't want the time together to end. But, I realized as I listened to the song, there is Only One who can always stay. So I prayed to Him: Stay With Me. Stay With Me."

-Being Sixteen, Allyson Braithwaite Condie.

I woke up at 7 and couldn't get out of bed. Everything hurt. My stomach. My heart. My head. And I really just wanted to lay there forever. So I didn't go to class, despite knowing I really should have. At about 9 I decided I couldn't stay pathetic and that I was GOING to go to school and I was GOING to have a good day. First, I had to park way the eff out there. But I decided to not complain about it. It wasn't a big deal. Then I went to class and we talked about childbirth and abortions and such. This was when I first started thinking about the gospel. My teacher admitted to having had an abortion. And I immediately started thinking about how I felt about that. At first I was a little angry at her. How could you take away a life of something so pure? Then she began to explain the medical reasons that she absolutely had to. Now, I still don't agree with it. But I could see on her face what a hard time that had been for her. And I wondered how I would handle that. I decided I wouldn't handle it well at all. And I wouldn't be able to make the decision to take away the life of something that's part of me like that. And I wondered how she did it. And how she got over it. You know, maybe she didn't get over it. Maybe there will always be a hole in her heart for that sweet child she never got to meet. But she is happy now. If her happiness doesn't prove the existence of The Atonement, or even just of there being a God, then what does? There are things in this life that may seem so incredibly hard to bear, and sometimes we just don't know how we get through them. But we do. And not on our own. 

So after that class, I went to walk to palates and realized I didn't have any of my stuff for it. So I skipped that too. I went and sat and read. 

The constant buzz of sound in the background started closing in on me. 

I closed my book and proceeded to check facebook, hoping for a distraction from all the noise. 

There was a status about "silent diseases." You know, things we can't see but effect so many. Depression being one of the main ones. 

Then I started thinking about all the people I know and love in my life that suffer from some form of depression. As I looked around the crowded room I was sitting in, I wondered how many people sitting so near me suffer from it. Because you'd never know until you know them. I watched people for the rest of the hour. Analyzing facial expressions and movements, wondering what makes them who they are, what we can't see. 

And I don't understand why it exists. 

We are all each given our different trials, yes. I get that. But why do some people have to deal with their trial every single day? 

I do consider losing him one of my biggest trials thus far in my life. It's effing hard. But I expect it to pass. And I know it will, although I can't feel it right now. And, maybe I'm wrong, but I imagine the feeling I'm feeling right now is the feeling many people feel every single day. 

It's this awful feeling of thinking that nothing is ever going to get better. The sun doesn't shine nearly as bright anymore. The wind is a little more cold that usual. Waking up is a lot harder. Things I have always enjoyed have lost their appeal. My laugh feels empty. And I feel like I'm never going to feel happy again. 

See, I know this will pass.

But what about the people that I never passes for? What about the people who can't fight it?

I'll have many trials throughout my life. Maybe I'll lose a child. Maybe I'll be poor. Maybe my husband will lose his job. Maybe my house will burn down. And they will be hard. Life isn't easy. But these things always pass. 

And this is why depression doesn't make sense to me. Why would some people have to deal with all of those normal trials that I just listed, on top of dealing with that internal battle of hopelessness? 

I don't know if or when I'll understand it. But I guess God has a reason. 

I'm trying so hard to focus on that. God has a reason. He has to have a reason.

I saw him today. After Institute. I walked out and BAM. There he was. I had planned to go straight to work from there. But once I got out to my car, I couldn't make myself go. I waited till I felt alright. 

He looked happy. I'm glad. 

I know I sound pathetic and very teenage girl in these posts. He was just one boy in my life. I should accept this as a life experience and move on. I know. 

I just... I don't feel like I lost a boyfriend. I lost my best friend. I lost the person who would listen to me without judging me. I lost the person who taught me so much about the real world. I lost the person who made me want to be better. There was a lot about him that I'm going to miss. 

It'll slowly go away. 

For now, I'm just waiting.

How to lie to yourself all day.

Today I woke up, went to school, and walked by his truck. Everything was still in there. It gave me hope. I went throughout the day thinking of ways to get him back. By the time I started talking to him, I was convinced it would work. I had prayed since the moment he left. I had talked and thought it through. It only made sense.

But he didn't come back.

See, I felt as if I showed him how bad it was hurting me, he'd feel the need to come back.

And i tried that for a little while. Until the moment he told me he was worried about me. Suddenly I had to tell him I was fine. We talked a little more and i  had to insist that yes, I will be okay.

So I sit here and wonder how exactly I actually feel. Do I hurt? yes. Will I be okay? probably. Do I feel like I will? no. So why did I tell  him I'll be okay? Heres the answer. Because I need him to be okay.

This whole relationship has never been about me.

sounds sad. Right? Actually it was really nice. I had someone to take care of. Someone to love. Someone who took such good care of me. Granted, he never knew he was taking such good care of me and I didn't really need him to. It was all about him. I just needed him to be okay. And I still do.

Can he see through my little lie about me being okay? I don't know. But he seemed so relieved to  hear it, that I'd fake it any day to make him okay.

Part of me accepts that he is not coming back. And yes, it hurts like hell.

I still can't eat without getting horribly sick. I still wake up at 3 every morning crying. I still shake all the time.

But I'm not dying any time soon so I might as well get used to it.

You know what hurts the worst though? Well, besides lunch time without him. Its looking at the clock at night and thinking that I should be with him right now. Like I was every night for basically the last 5 months. I should be in his arms.

But hey. Maybe one day someone else will come along.

Maybe.

How to get through yet another day.

If you had any idea how much better I feel being 8 pounds (3 from yesterday. dropping fast.) less than what I have been for the past few months, you'd tell me to continue not eating too.

Too bad I just got back from dinner. I never can last very long. Not by my choice, however. It's just difficult to explain to someone "No I'm on my 3rd day of no eating. But you can go to dinner by yourself." Yeah. That wasn't about to happen.

You know, I never quite understood self inflicted harm quite like I do now.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not one to go about causing myself pain. I'm too weak. But the way it felt to have my stomach ache like that... I almost felt normal.  It was as if the pain in my chest and the pain in my stomach just equaled each other out. Canceling one another.

I have so much I want to tell him now.

As the day went on and little things happened, I made mental notes to tell him later at lunch. Then Institute rolled around and he didn't walk in. I had almost completely forgotten. It was then that I felt everything. I could feel how pissed off my stomach was at me. And how completely shattered the rest of me was. At lunch, I didn't know what to do. I couldn't eat. I think part of me thinks that maybe if the next time he sees me, I'm 20 pounds lighter, he will love  me again. Ridiculous, right? But I just couldn't eat. And I had no where to go. I couldn't stand the thought of going to work early, sitting there for an extra 2 hours than usual, and then not having the relief of his arms around me after. So I sat in my car.

People passed. Some holding hands. Some alone.  And I watched as I realized how alone I really am.

Day 1 of being back to school: Heartbreaking.

So I went to work. Explained to the girls what happened. Watched as everyone's faces turned from happy to completely sad for me. They all knew how much I loved him.

It passed fast enough. Then when I walked out to my car, his truck wasn't there.

And I felt it all once again.

6 months ago. Exactly. He started talking to me. We haven't missed a day since. We even talked for a very short amount of time yesterday. But today, nothing. 6 months. Now nothing.

My mind is all sorts of mixed up.

Gosh I loved him.

How to stop eating.

"How can I be pleased when I'm handed the keys to a town they call misery?"- The Format.

I can't figure out  how to stop writing now. Obviously, since this is my second post of the day. And I'm sure there will be another one when I get home tonight.

5 pounds down. It's only been like 3 days since I stopped eating.

You know, I don't exactly mean to just not eat. The first few days were because it made me sick. I've eaten here and there. Nothing big at all. And I like it. It feels like, for once, this is something in my life that I can control. When I've had so little control of my life since August. I'm  not saying it was a bad thing. But so much just became decided for me. I HAD to go to school and HAD to get a job and eventually got in to a pattern where I felt as if I HAD to go to his house every night or be with him every night. And because I loved him and didn't want to upset him by not eating, I HAD to eat. Well, now, I still HAVE to go to school and to work and then home to do homework. But I can decide when I eat, or if I do. Because I'm not in this to please him anymore. Our little deal is off. If I don't eat, he's still going to eat, he's not gonna stop eating with me. So I'm not putting him in any harm by doing this. He will still be healthy, and I won't have to eat.

You know whats sad though? If he asked me to eat, I probably would. At least once.

I understand my life is not ruled by him. It never has been. But man it felt nice for someone to care about me like that.

My family has been really good to me since it happened. My brother got up in church and bore his testimony, directing part of it to me. My sister did all the dishes for me and didn't ask for anything in return. And my little brother told me I looked like a hooker today (means I'll find another guy fast, right?).

I guess I just have to remember to breathe. I'm tired, this emotional pain is causing incredible physical pain like I never knew it could, I can barely talk above a whisper, and I'm not eating. But as long as I'm still breathing... I guess its bound to get better eventually. Maybe. Right?

How to handle the 24 hours after.

I don't know how long its going to take for me to be able to return to the "how to" format. But for now, I guess I'll just continue to write like this for a couple of reasons. 1) When I'm writing I'm putting the emotion in words so its not so unbearable. 2) It's a lot harder now to just sit on facebook, especially when he's online. 3) I don't know who else to tell all of this to. And 4) I keep thinking maybe he will read this and decide to come back. (Stupid. I know. I doubt he well still read these.)

I don't know if people even read this. Maybe that's another reason I find it easier to express it all here. 

I couldn't sleep last night. Well, mostly. I went to bed at 10:30. Fell asleep at about 11. Woke up at 3. And haven't been able to sleep since. I also haven't eaten since taco bell on Friday night. And before that I hadn't eaten since cake the night before. Well, give or take a few french fries. I think it takes my mind off the pain inside my chest. My heart is constantly beating fast and sometimes I forget to breathe. 

Who's gonna love me now?

Who's going to change my break pads? Or teach me to change my oil? Or fix my computer when its broken? Or force me to eat more than one meal a day? Or rub my back when it hurts? Or rub my feet just because? Or tell me I'm beautiful? Or hold my hand? Or wait for me outside of work? Or hold me when I'm crying? 

Who's gonna love me now? 

It's an empty feeling, really. For once, I can't even find the words to write it in to a poem.

Every time my phone rings, I expect it to be him. Or when he gets online, I always open a chat box and start to type before I remember that he won't reply.  I didn't think it would hurt this bad. 

I got a blessing last night. It was a blessing of "if this relationship mends..." and it made me angry. Why would God send me messages that only say "if this mends, you need to do this and that..." ? I guess I just don't understand.

I don't understand alot of things. 

I woke up, the nightmare was still going. I want to go back to sleep.

How to be broken.

So here I sit. Completely broken.

You know, I knew it would be hard. I knew it would be the hardest thing thrown at me thus far in my life. And I knew it was coming. I could feel it in every bone in my body when he would look at me. I guess, I just had this undying hope that it wouldn't happen. And that hope consumed me.

So here I am to write it out. And the "how to" format seems to escape me as I look at the keyboard. How do I talk about this pain eating me up as if I'm telling someone else to do it? I can't wish the way this feels on anyone. I also don't even know how to describe it. Where do I start? Do I begin with explaining what its like to be sitting on a couch with the person you love, holding his hand, knowing its the last time it will happen? Or do I begin by explaining the love that took place there first? Or maybe I could just start explaining the way it feels to sit with friends in complete silence because no one understands you now. Or how it feels when his lips touch your forehead for the last time. Or how it feels for him to look at you like he doesn't even love you anymore. See what I mean? I have no idea where to start.

I've cried harder than I've ever cried before. The pain is too real.

And I just don't think I'll ever get over him.

Now, don't get me wrong. Yes, I will probably love again. That's usually how it goes. Although, I don't want to anymore. Not unless I'm loving him. But, I understand that at some point, there will probably be someone else. For both me and him. But there's something about the way this feels that nothing else has ever felt like before. Like part of me is missing. My left leg maybe? No, maybe just the left lung. It makes it hard to breath now but at some point, I'll get used to it and figure out a rhythm that works for me. But I'll always be missing it.

Oh how I would take it back if I could.

I suppose I'm supposed to learn something from this now. Maybe that I'm my own person and I should rely on myself and no one else. Or maybe that life moves on. Or something along those lines.

But no. I don't feel like I'm learning anything except for that I'll never be good enough. Even when I try to fix myself, I'm rejected for trying. Because I'll never reach that level of goodness that people want in their lives.

So yeah. Maybe I'll move on. But I don't want to. I want to miss him. I want to feel this. I just want him here. This is my time to be sad. So heartbreakingly sad. (My computer thinks heartbreakingly isn't a word. I'm fairly sure it is.) And then maybe it will mend. Probably it won't. I guess life moves on.

But for now, I'm gonna go crawl in bed and cry. Maybe I'll wake up from this horrible dream. If I do, I promise to appreciate every moment with him a thousand times more. But if I don't, if this turns out to be real... I'll repeat this process again tomorrow night. Maybe one day I'll wake up from it.