Stale cigarettes, spilt wine
burnt hair
sticky stains where hairspray spilt
powder of my eyeshadow sparkles on countertop in this light,
hand rides the familiar curve of the wall
feet drag across the slight arch of the floor
eyes water as memories flood back like ocean tides
smiles flash, music plays
as I walk away
This is not a part of me anymore, this cannot be my life
Door closes, I crawl through a window
Escape
Let go, drop from the sill
Freedom
landing on the ground
I will rise again.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Picture of Us
There's a photo of us above my bed,a moment from history that might never repeat- and yet every time my eyes glance over it, I smile. It's similar to other photos, but unique in its own way. Surprisingly it keeps me grounded, reminds me that there's more to these days than just lounging around. I will always remember the moment it was taken and the genuine smile on my face. When things start to get crazy, I will look at this photo and remember what it means to be me, not because you are me, but because you make me want to be myself. You are the one person in this world who I want to be myself for, the only one who accepts me for who I am, YOU are the one who makes me confident in my own skin. I want to please you, to live you, because in that I feel as though I will be completed within you. There is a photo of us above my bed, a single moment captured that will keep my feet on the ground because you remind me of what it is to love myself.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Unrequited my Ass.
I have this problem
And seeing as it's 1:13 am on Saturday morning and I have yet to go to bed, even though I'm beyond exhausted, throw in the fact that I have to be leaving my house at 8:15 this morning and the fact that the reason I'm up so late is because I needed to finish the book I was reading; my mind refuses to shut off so I have decided to write it out.
Rawr.
Okay- so I suffer from this double edged affliction. It is in my nature, my personality, my very core to care about people. I strive to love unconditionally, judge as little as possible, and most of the time even when I'm making jokes about someone else, chances are I'd still take a bullet for them. There are countless people who I'd gladly step in the line of fire between, not because I'm searching out a hero title or looking for something postmortem, but because I hate to see other suffer. I know what it's like to bear pain, to look in the mirror and not recognize the person who is looking back at you. I can sympathize and I can empathize,and more often than not I can feel your pain. I'm a "good listener" because when you tell your story, I feel your emotions. Weird as it sounds, its the truth. It's not something I would trade for the world however. I want to share in your life with you, I want to be there for you, I want to be able to fix it, and when I can't put a band-aid on it and help you get back up, I want to be able to take the ride with you, if not for the sole reason that I can't bear to see you go it alone.
The problem lies when I begin to care more about another person than they care about me. Which of course is my own cross to bear, but its something that has been weighing on my mind tonight and this is my blog and thus I will say what I want. :)
I am constantly meeting new people and "falling in love" with their personalities. I start to build relationships with people, friendships, connections with the people I engage with. And then something comes down to the nitty-gritty, we move away from each other, our classes change, we head off to college or forget the person's last name. When these connections sever, there's a pain in my chest, moments of restlessness and longing that I can't explain to anyone. When these connections die down and I'm the one trying desperatley to keep our relationship afloat, i can't see where things went wrong. Granted I know that people move on and go their seperate ways, but for people who I truly care about I'm most often the last one left clinging to a floating raft that never could float.
I'm going to share a very personal stories with you (look at that, already I'm doing it again):
I mentioned my friend Dan a few blog posts ago- who I met years ago at karate when my old crowd was still there. He slowly became one of my really good friends as being a part of the same program and age group brought us together multiple times a week. When I started dating our mutual friend Adam, Dan and I got even closer. We would knife fight during breaks at karate, eat dinner together, play on the playground together, partner up in class together. One time, he even managed to punch me in the nose, but it was those experiences that would bind us for life. When Adam and I broke up, he was one of the first to be there for me, even though Adam was a mutual friend, and despite our nasty, painful break-up, Dan still remained very good friends with me. I used to try and pretend he was my brother because then it gave me some sort of legtimate tie to him, some way of knowing that no matter what happened he'd still be there for me. Then there was the time that I crushed on him, and the time that he thought I would hate him for not reciprocating. Back then, even when I was crushing on him, I think I was really just looking for a way to lay claim with him. If we ever went out, I could call him my ex, and know that he would forever be a part of my life. Of course though we remained friends, because who let's a silly crush get in the way of their friendship? I can remember my friend Arianne and I planning Dan a going away party when he left for school, with a sense of knowing that it was probably the last time our group of friends would ever actually be our group of friends. I saw him one more time before he left for school that night, I was getting ready to be a junior in high school and trying to figure a lot out, and the night he left for school I let myself cry myself to sleep. Maybe it was because I was reading New Moon at the time, or of how attached I was to him, but there was a hole in my chest that consumed me. I listened to MayDay Parade's "Jersey" a thousand times over because I understood what they meant when they sang "and Jersey just got colder, and I'll have you know I'm scared to death that everything you said to me was just a lie until you left." In the beginning, whenever he came home he made it a priority to see me, I can remember him coming to pick me up from my house to drive me to karate because there were things he needed to talk about, I can remember having just gotten my license driving off to the dinner to see him. But then, life gets in the way. People get busy, people begin to have other plans, and because we are not in the forefront of each other's minds, we have a hard time keeping in touch. Scroll across his facebook wall and occasionally you will see posting that I write to which he will respond and we will have a very basic conversation. But I initiate. because there is a large part of me that believes I'm pumping air into a broken raft. Granted every once in a while he'll do something that astounds me, like show up at the Cardboard City that I was hosting, even just to pop in for a minute. But it still hurts me at times when I realize that we don't have the relationship we used to, and we probably never will again, and what hurts more is that most of me feels like I'm the only one feeling this way. Do I want Dan to read this? Yes and No. It's not his burden to bear, nor will anything actually make a difference. Do I want someone to read this? Yes, anyone out there actually because then I feel like I'm not alone.
Because here's the thing- when you're carrying so much, sometimes it feels like you are alone in this world. Posting a blog about some deeply rooted hurt makes me feel less alone, even if no one reads it, because the truth is, someone out there will find it. I'm not 100% sure where most of this is coming from, but I'm just going to let it keep flowing.
Maybe I'll be able to sleep better tonight-
or Maybe this is the beginning of understanding that my life's work will be about helping people their crosses, and the way I have been dealing with that has not been healthy.
A Step in the right direction?
Or is it a foreshadowing? They say relationships are never 50/50, that they are always 60/40 or 70/30 or 80/20, will I constantly be the 80 side? Will I never find someone who will care about me just as much as I care about them? And I mean both romantically and friendship wise, I have never once denied my friend advice or a shoulder to cry on because it was too much for me, nor will I ever.
Because as much as this blog might sound whiny, I wouldn't trade it for the world. I love people, I will always love people, and most of my life will be about every on else's life coming before my own, and I am glad to do it.
Take care, oh blog readers.
<3
And seeing as it's 1:13 am on Saturday morning and I have yet to go to bed, even though I'm beyond exhausted, throw in the fact that I have to be leaving my house at 8:15 this morning and the fact that the reason I'm up so late is because I needed to finish the book I was reading; my mind refuses to shut off so I have decided to write it out.
Rawr.
Okay- so I suffer from this double edged affliction. It is in my nature, my personality, my very core to care about people. I strive to love unconditionally, judge as little as possible, and most of the time even when I'm making jokes about someone else, chances are I'd still take a bullet for them. There are countless people who I'd gladly step in the line of fire between, not because I'm searching out a hero title or looking for something postmortem, but because I hate to see other suffer. I know what it's like to bear pain, to look in the mirror and not recognize the person who is looking back at you. I can sympathize and I can empathize,and more often than not I can feel your pain. I'm a "good listener" because when you tell your story, I feel your emotions. Weird as it sounds, its the truth. It's not something I would trade for the world however. I want to share in your life with you, I want to be there for you, I want to be able to fix it, and when I can't put a band-aid on it and help you get back up, I want to be able to take the ride with you, if not for the sole reason that I can't bear to see you go it alone.
The problem lies when I begin to care more about another person than they care about me. Which of course is my own cross to bear, but its something that has been weighing on my mind tonight and this is my blog and thus I will say what I want. :)
I am constantly meeting new people and "falling in love" with their personalities. I start to build relationships with people, friendships, connections with the people I engage with. And then something comes down to the nitty-gritty, we move away from each other, our classes change, we head off to college or forget the person's last name. When these connections sever, there's a pain in my chest, moments of restlessness and longing that I can't explain to anyone. When these connections die down and I'm the one trying desperatley to keep our relationship afloat, i can't see where things went wrong. Granted I know that people move on and go their seperate ways, but for people who I truly care about I'm most often the last one left clinging to a floating raft that never could float.
I'm going to share a very personal stories with you (look at that, already I'm doing it again):
I mentioned my friend Dan a few blog posts ago- who I met years ago at karate when my old crowd was still there. He slowly became one of my really good friends as being a part of the same program and age group brought us together multiple times a week. When I started dating our mutual friend Adam, Dan and I got even closer. We would knife fight during breaks at karate, eat dinner together, play on the playground together, partner up in class together. One time, he even managed to punch me in the nose, but it was those experiences that would bind us for life. When Adam and I broke up, he was one of the first to be there for me, even though Adam was a mutual friend, and despite our nasty, painful break-up, Dan still remained very good friends with me. I used to try and pretend he was my brother because then it gave me some sort of legtimate tie to him, some way of knowing that no matter what happened he'd still be there for me. Then there was the time that I crushed on him, and the time that he thought I would hate him for not reciprocating. Back then, even when I was crushing on him, I think I was really just looking for a way to lay claim with him. If we ever went out, I could call him my ex, and know that he would forever be a part of my life. Of course though we remained friends, because who let's a silly crush get in the way of their friendship? I can remember my friend Arianne and I planning Dan a going away party when he left for school, with a sense of knowing that it was probably the last time our group of friends would ever actually be our group of friends. I saw him one more time before he left for school that night, I was getting ready to be a junior in high school and trying to figure a lot out, and the night he left for school I let myself cry myself to sleep. Maybe it was because I was reading New Moon at the time, or of how attached I was to him, but there was a hole in my chest that consumed me. I listened to MayDay Parade's "Jersey" a thousand times over because I understood what they meant when they sang "and Jersey just got colder, and I'll have you know I'm scared to death that everything you said to me was just a lie until you left." In the beginning, whenever he came home he made it a priority to see me, I can remember him coming to pick me up from my house to drive me to karate because there were things he needed to talk about, I can remember having just gotten my license driving off to the dinner to see him. But then, life gets in the way. People get busy, people begin to have other plans, and because we are not in the forefront of each other's minds, we have a hard time keeping in touch. Scroll across his facebook wall and occasionally you will see posting that I write to which he will respond and we will have a very basic conversation. But I initiate. because there is a large part of me that believes I'm pumping air into a broken raft. Granted every once in a while he'll do something that astounds me, like show up at the Cardboard City that I was hosting, even just to pop in for a minute. But it still hurts me at times when I realize that we don't have the relationship we used to, and we probably never will again, and what hurts more is that most of me feels like I'm the only one feeling this way. Do I want Dan to read this? Yes and No. It's not his burden to bear, nor will anything actually make a difference. Do I want someone to read this? Yes, anyone out there actually because then I feel like I'm not alone.
Because here's the thing- when you're carrying so much, sometimes it feels like you are alone in this world. Posting a blog about some deeply rooted hurt makes me feel less alone, even if no one reads it, because the truth is, someone out there will find it. I'm not 100% sure where most of this is coming from, but I'm just going to let it keep flowing.
Maybe I'll be able to sleep better tonight-
or Maybe this is the beginning of understanding that my life's work will be about helping people their crosses, and the way I have been dealing with that has not been healthy.
A Step in the right direction?
Or is it a foreshadowing? They say relationships are never 50/50, that they are always 60/40 or 70/30 or 80/20, will I constantly be the 80 side? Will I never find someone who will care about me just as much as I care about them? And I mean both romantically and friendship wise, I have never once denied my friend advice or a shoulder to cry on because it was too much for me, nor will I ever.
Because as much as this blog might sound whiny, I wouldn't trade it for the world. I love people, I will always love people, and most of my life will be about every on else's life coming before my own, and I am glad to do it.
Take care, oh blog readers.
<3
Thursday, January 13, 2011
this spark inside?
...
For those of you that don't know me very well, I'm a very driven person, with a stubborn personality and a calling I won't deny. I stand up for my beliefs and stand firm in my convictions. I'm not afraid to get in your face, argue with you or turn my back. I won't be walked over and there are times where I will do whatever it takes to reach the end goal. I am intimidating at times and like to be in control.
However as well as these personality traits have worked for me academically and in other pursuits, socially and romantically it can be a serious problem. Where I run into the most problems is that guys my age are not quite there yet, and I intimidate them sometimes. Do you know it's like trying to find a guy with a plan in college? It sucks.
Now I'm not whining about being single, and Lord knows that the this is NOT the reason that I'm single, not by a long stretch, but thinking about it makes me roll my eyes and long for maturity. Some people will tell you that going to an all-women's college will make you lower your standards, but Smith is having the exact opposite, it's causing me to raise my standards, which overall is a good thing, right? I guess I'm glad that Smith is not a girls' college without men, it's a women's college without boys, because honestly if I had to live with boys my age right now I'd probably throw myself out a window. :)
Anywayyy.
I head back on Monday, and I'm finally ready to head back. Even though my bedroom at home looks like my dorm room threw up in it, packing is making me happy. I love my family to death, but I miss my friends. I cannot wait to get back and start doing homework, which is a weird feeling because I haven't loved homework since my final English project senior year, (and shh don't tell my physics teacher this) and my physics homework senior year. I have several awesome classes for next year and they are going to be work, but it will be work I'm ready for. so YAY for going back. Plus Quidditch practices start soon, and for that I am crazy excited!
<3
For those of you that don't know me very well, I'm a very driven person, with a stubborn personality and a calling I won't deny. I stand up for my beliefs and stand firm in my convictions. I'm not afraid to get in your face, argue with you or turn my back. I won't be walked over and there are times where I will do whatever it takes to reach the end goal. I am intimidating at times and like to be in control.
However as well as these personality traits have worked for me academically and in other pursuits, socially and romantically it can be a serious problem. Where I run into the most problems is that guys my age are not quite there yet, and I intimidate them sometimes. Do you know it's like trying to find a guy with a plan in college? It sucks.
Now I'm not whining about being single, and Lord knows that the this is NOT the reason that I'm single, not by a long stretch, but thinking about it makes me roll my eyes and long for maturity. Some people will tell you that going to an all-women's college will make you lower your standards, but Smith is having the exact opposite, it's causing me to raise my standards, which overall is a good thing, right? I guess I'm glad that Smith is not a girls' college without men, it's a women's college without boys, because honestly if I had to live with boys my age right now I'd probably throw myself out a window. :)
Anywayyy.
I head back on Monday, and I'm finally ready to head back. Even though my bedroom at home looks like my dorm room threw up in it, packing is making me happy. I love my family to death, but I miss my friends. I cannot wait to get back and start doing homework, which is a weird feeling because I haven't loved homework since my final English project senior year, (and shh don't tell my physics teacher this) and my physics homework senior year. I have several awesome classes for next year and they are going to be work, but it will be work I'm ready for. so YAY for going back. Plus Quidditch practices start soon, and for that I am crazy excited!
<3
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Pause the Clock ?
Summer plans? Room Draw? 3rd Semester?
All of these questions are running through my head, people are asking the questions and I just don't have answers right now. After first semester of school, my life was a hot mess. I can accept that, and I'm learning from the mistakes I made. I do not regret a single second of what i did, or the experiences I had, but as a consequence, I had to do a lot of re-evaluating.
I leave for school in less than a week, and all I want to do is work on holding up my newfound me and not giving in to people and things, I honestly cannot worry about what my plans are for the summer right now or what forms I have to fill out to get the room I want next year. It's going to be hard enough walking back into my house knowing that I cannot be the same person I was last time I lived there.
It's scary. I won't lie, I'm know it's going to be one of the hardest things I've done in a while, but I'm ready for it. I'm ready to be the person I am.
And this doesn't exclude me from letting loose and getting down every once in a while, but it wont consume my life in the mass that it has in the past. I'm going to relearn what Smith means to me. I'm excited to go back to school and do all the things I love doing without putting them to rest. I have never in my life been more excited to do homework. I'm ready to take the classes I signed up for, to challenge myself and to see what else Smith can offer me. I'm ready to make new friends and keep my really amazing friends. It's a balancing act, but I think I'm finally ready.
<3
All of these questions are running through my head, people are asking the questions and I just don't have answers right now. After first semester of school, my life was a hot mess. I can accept that, and I'm learning from the mistakes I made. I do not regret a single second of what i did, or the experiences I had, but as a consequence, I had to do a lot of re-evaluating.
I leave for school in less than a week, and all I want to do is work on holding up my newfound me and not giving in to people and things, I honestly cannot worry about what my plans are for the summer right now or what forms I have to fill out to get the room I want next year. It's going to be hard enough walking back into my house knowing that I cannot be the same person I was last time I lived there.
It's scary. I won't lie, I'm know it's going to be one of the hardest things I've done in a while, but I'm ready for it. I'm ready to be the person I am.
And this doesn't exclude me from letting loose and getting down every once in a while, but it wont consume my life in the mass that it has in the past. I'm going to relearn what Smith means to me. I'm excited to go back to school and do all the things I love doing without putting them to rest. I have never in my life been more excited to do homework. I'm ready to take the classes I signed up for, to challenge myself and to see what else Smith can offer me. I'm ready to make new friends and keep my really amazing friends. It's a balancing act, but I think I'm finally ready.
<3
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Reflection.
Looking back on 2010 I realize just how much I changed in a year, how much life has offered me in the terms of experience and growth. Looking ahead to 2011 I can only hope that I will be as happy with the progress I continue to make.
This time last year, I was slaving away over a script. My gorgeous white binder and I spent more time together than I spent with my family. I constantly was making notes or sketching sets or reading up on lines. After school I was either backstage, on stage, in front of the stage, running from the English office to 507 and back or walking around the school searching out open classrooms where I could run lines with the cast. On Saturdays I was at the bagel shop picking up orders and driving them back to school to start work either on rehearsal or building. I was in my domain. I was in control, I was giving it everything I got. And here I can bitch and moan about how I felt that no one else really cared about the show, or how Friday night after the show felt, but I'm not going to. Instead I'm going to talk about how Friday preshow felt. . . The unnecessary butterflies, the crew potluck dinner, where we were able to just sit together and breathe before I was up and running around again. Watching the hustle and the bustle of people coming in. Being able to walk out to the lobby area to check on the parents and the ticket sellers, the house lights and front house manager, it just worked for me. No matter how stressed I was, seeing people show up for the show filled me with a hope that somehow everyone would pull it together. Having people walk up to me and and wish me luck on the show or running into people who had come to see the show who I hadn't seen in a while, it was amazing. And the five minutes before the show standing with the cast and crew, it was all smiles. In the two minutes before the show started, checking house lights, shutting curtains to people's houses and checking for places, it was those moments when I realized that not matter what happened on the stage that night, I had given my all for it. The moments I had been waiting for had come, and watching that curtain pull back filled me with a dread that I may never be able to replicate for thirty seconds until it was all business again.
And that night after the show, after all that happened, I hid my face from people that I saw lagging behind to say hi, I hid my anger and my hurt and my distrust from people, so that they would not see that I felt like a failure.
By the time June rolled around, I was already gone. Graduation was blessed ceremony that wasn't over soon enough. I spent my summer with the people I cared about, doing things I cared about. I connected with friends and made sure that I spoke and saw the people that I wanted to. Every interaction was deliberate and I loved every moment of it because I was finally doing what made me happy.
Being in school has already changed me, in ways that I didn't know it could. In the past four months alone I have learned that "normal" is not something I need in my life, nor something I should strive to be, that being "typical" is only going to make me unhappy. I've learned that sometimes you just have to admit to things, as frightening as it can be, and that taking chances is the only way to be sure that you don't live with regret. I have found reconnecting with old friends is a therapy, and often times you reconnect at the right moment. Even though people come from different places or feel different things they can still be best friends. I've come to understand what the definition of "friend" really is.
In the past year I've fallen into "love", out of "love", had my heartbroken, I've succeeded and I have failed. I've made mistakes and I have grown, I've seen what self-hatred can do to a person and I've seen people fall in love. I started a Quidditch team and I've made a fool out of myself. I've changed my style and cut my hair. I've graduated and gone off to school. I've started thinking about my future and what I want from it. I've fallen into traps, set them myself, and crawled my way out. I've puked and I've cried, I've bled and I have nearly given up. I've smoked a cigar and drank, tried new foods and run. I've lost myself and found myself at the bottom of a bottle staring me down. I've made poor choices and I've made good ones. I've read fabulous books and made fabulous friends.
When 2010 ended, I was on the track to declaring my candidacy to be a fully ordained Elder in the Methodist Church, a resident of Park House, an official blood donor, a well-loved stage manager and star defense lawyer. I was officially legal (although I'm still not registered to vote... gotta get on that), I was at home with the people I loved, I had serious plans for my future, falling back in love with myself and starting to understand what it all means.
When 2011 started, I was ready to be me, to stop thinking that I can be anything else. I look at the next year with fear in my eyes but a determined heart. I'm ready for whatever is going to be thrown at me and I'm ready for it all.
I'm not the person I was as I watch the curtain get pulled back, I'm happier, and I will not hide my face when I think someone will judge me for my failure. I will take pride in my work, and all I give my heart to. I will give my heart to people who deserve it, and I will make YOU see the truth of who I am.
Happy New Year.
I love you all.
This time last year, I was slaving away over a script. My gorgeous white binder and I spent more time together than I spent with my family. I constantly was making notes or sketching sets or reading up on lines. After school I was either backstage, on stage, in front of the stage, running from the English office to 507 and back or walking around the school searching out open classrooms where I could run lines with the cast. On Saturdays I was at the bagel shop picking up orders and driving them back to school to start work either on rehearsal or building. I was in my domain. I was in control, I was giving it everything I got. And here I can bitch and moan about how I felt that no one else really cared about the show, or how Friday night after the show felt, but I'm not going to. Instead I'm going to talk about how Friday preshow felt. . . The unnecessary butterflies, the crew potluck dinner, where we were able to just sit together and breathe before I was up and running around again. Watching the hustle and the bustle of people coming in. Being able to walk out to the lobby area to check on the parents and the ticket sellers, the house lights and front house manager, it just worked for me. No matter how stressed I was, seeing people show up for the show filled me with a hope that somehow everyone would pull it together. Having people walk up to me and and wish me luck on the show or running into people who had come to see the show who I hadn't seen in a while, it was amazing. And the five minutes before the show standing with the cast and crew, it was all smiles. In the two minutes before the show started, checking house lights, shutting curtains to people's houses and checking for places, it was those moments when I realized that not matter what happened on the stage that night, I had given my all for it. The moments I had been waiting for had come, and watching that curtain pull back filled me with a dread that I may never be able to replicate for thirty seconds until it was all business again.
And that night after the show, after all that happened, I hid my face from people that I saw lagging behind to say hi, I hid my anger and my hurt and my distrust from people, so that they would not see that I felt like a failure.
By the time June rolled around, I was already gone. Graduation was blessed ceremony that wasn't over soon enough. I spent my summer with the people I cared about, doing things I cared about. I connected with friends and made sure that I spoke and saw the people that I wanted to. Every interaction was deliberate and I loved every moment of it because I was finally doing what made me happy.
Being in school has already changed me, in ways that I didn't know it could. In the past four months alone I have learned that "normal" is not something I need in my life, nor something I should strive to be, that being "typical" is only going to make me unhappy. I've learned that sometimes you just have to admit to things, as frightening as it can be, and that taking chances is the only way to be sure that you don't live with regret. I have found reconnecting with old friends is a therapy, and often times you reconnect at the right moment. Even though people come from different places or feel different things they can still be best friends. I've come to understand what the definition of "friend" really is.
In the past year I've fallen into "love", out of "love", had my heartbroken, I've succeeded and I have failed. I've made mistakes and I have grown, I've seen what self-hatred can do to a person and I've seen people fall in love. I started a Quidditch team and I've made a fool out of myself. I've changed my style and cut my hair. I've graduated and gone off to school. I've started thinking about my future and what I want from it. I've fallen into traps, set them myself, and crawled my way out. I've puked and I've cried, I've bled and I have nearly given up. I've smoked a cigar and drank, tried new foods and run. I've lost myself and found myself at the bottom of a bottle staring me down. I've made poor choices and I've made good ones. I've read fabulous books and made fabulous friends.
When 2010 ended, I was on the track to declaring my candidacy to be a fully ordained Elder in the Methodist Church, a resident of Park House, an official blood donor, a well-loved stage manager and star defense lawyer. I was officially legal (although I'm still not registered to vote... gotta get on that), I was at home with the people I loved, I had serious plans for my future, falling back in love with myself and starting to understand what it all means.
When 2011 started, I was ready to be me, to stop thinking that I can be anything else. I look at the next year with fear in my eyes but a determined heart. I'm ready for whatever is going to be thrown at me and I'm ready for it all.
I'm not the person I was as I watch the curtain get pulled back, I'm happier, and I will not hide my face when I think someone will judge me for my failure. I will take pride in my work, and all I give my heart to. I will give my heart to people who deserve it, and I will make YOU see the truth of who I am.
Happy New Year.
I love you all.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)