Close enough to start a war, all that I have is on the floor. God only knows what we’re fighting for. All that I say, you always say more… I can’t keep up with your turning tables. Under your thumb, I can’t breathe…

 

I don’t know how to reach you.

I don’t know how to be there for you. I don’t know what to say or how to talk to you.

I know that you’re going through something and that nothing I say or do will make it hurt less.

You’re my best friend and I love you. I love you beyond words and it hurts me that I can’t help you.

Because you’re hurting, I let the fact that you hurt my feelings go.  I didn’t tell you that it hurts me when you don’t tell me these things. I didn’t tell you that I can still hear your voice in my head, replaying that time you told me I’m not good at feelings and that I’m the last person on earth with whom anyone should talk about emotions. I didn’t tell you that hearing about what happened after the fact, after you had already spilled your heart to the other leg of the Tripod, as you do every single time you have any real emotions, I felt sad and left-out.

I don’t tell you these things because, this time, it’s not about me.

You were there for me when I needed you. When I cried countless times because my heart hurt over the complete deterioration of the friendship I had with my so-called best friend, you were there. Even when I repeated myself and when you couldn’t understand how I could be feeling the way I was, you listened. You listened, and you cared, and you showed up when I needed you.

I’m so sorry that you feel I haven’t done the same for you.

I wish you’d talk to me and stop shutting me out.  I wish things didn’t feel so weird. I don’t understand what happened or even how to make it better.

I don’t know what to say.

Sometimes people just need space. Sometimes it just takes time to sort through all of those thoughts and feelings. That’s what I thought I was doing, giving you time and space to feel sad and mend your broken heart.  But it’s been a few days now and I haven’t heard anything and we haven’t talked.  I don’t like how we left things.

I don’t know how to make this better. You know I’m no good with confrontation, not when it’s something like this.  Not when it feels like there’s something as awesome as the Tripod at stake.  Things feel fragile and I can’t see where to step to make a move.

For once, I feel like I don’t know you. I feel like I don’t know how to read you. You feel so far away. I can’t figure out what you’re thinking or try to guess how you’d respond to any of the actions I have almost made.

I just miss you is all. I want things to go back to normal, and I want you to talk to me. I want to be there for you. I want you to tell me that you’re hurting but that our friendship matters.

I don’t know how to reach you.

You’re the only thing I know like the back of my hand

For the past five months and thirteen days, my  heart has been trying to heal.

I have been fixated on the one thing I didn’t have but yearned for so badly. The sense of loss I felt consumed me and I felt like I would never feel whole again. I felt like my heart would always have a gaping hole, that no matter what I did, how much time passed or who came into my life post-war, my heart would always feel like a piece was missing.

There are just some people you can’t live without. There are people out there who impact you in a way that is indescribable, and unless someone has someone like that in his or her life, he or she just cannot understand what that feels like. There are people that your mind, body, and soul have conditioned you to believe you need them in your life, that they are your tether to reality and to things that matter. There are people out there that have marked your life so implicitly that to have to live without that, it actually hurts.  There are just certain people that know you and like you even when you don’t deserve it.

For five months and thirteen days, my person was not my person anymore. My best friend, my soul sister, was no longer a part of my life. The bond we thought to be indestructible took a hit that very nearly destroyed us. For five months and thirteen days, I didn’t speak to the one person who knew me better than anyone else on this earth, the person who knew my every move before I made it, could be honest with me when no one else could, was there when I pushed everyone else away. For five months and thirteen days, it seemed our friendship had lost its pulse. It was over, and I felt alone.

We weren’t fair to each other. We loved but we stopped liking. We stopped listening. Things changed. We changed. But this time, after so many years, we didn’t change together. We grew up, and we grew away. Unable to cope, we pushed until we broke. And break, we did.

For the first time in five months and thirteen days, my heart feels like it’s mending itself. The gaping hole in my chest is closing, and it doesn’t hurt to breathe. Time was on our side, but it was wiser than the two of us.  We needed to be apart to learn to care again.

New beginnings seem scary, but I can feel the pulse coming back. The wreckage we caused is finally being remedied. Post-war isn’t so dark anymore. It ‘s a new era. And even though I know it can’t be how it was, the funny thing about life and love is that it goes on. We have a chance to start over, to be fair and really care this time. We have the lessons we learned from the pain to guide us, to remind us to be better.

To make it to the other side, it has to be a testament to the strength of our bond.

I’ve missed you.

I don’t wanna wait for our lives to be over I want to know right now what will it be?

Oh, hello.

What’s up?

I’m new here. Not new to blogging (per se) but, like, new to this blog.

See, I blogged here originally, but, for one reason or another, I decided to move my blogging here.

Let’s start fresh, shall we? Let’s be friends. Let’s put the full disclosure rule out there. I’ll be real with you, and you’ll be real with me.

To start off, I’m just gonna outline a few mostly unrelated things about me.

1.) If I start telling a story, I promise I’ll provide a back-story.  I mean, we all know what it’s like when you’re with some people who you don’t know every single little thing about and one person starts telling a story, and the other person totally knows what’s up but you’re sitting there, all awkward and out of the loop, and they just continue on with their story without filling you in on prior, required knowledge to understand the story! You’re totally the odd (wo)man out, and that sucks.  Back-stories are important, friends. I’ll do you a solid and provide that for you.

2.) Sometimes, no matter how hard I try, I’m gonna forget to post stuff here. Sometimes it’s just hard to organize my thoughts enough to feel prepared to post, and sometimes I’m just not gonna feel like it. When times like this happen, and you still feel like you need just an ounce of crazy, there are other ways to fulfill that need. Fear not, I use twitter (more than) frequently, and I also post rando crap to tumblr ’cause it’s sweet.

3.) I get really, really involved in stuff. Not normal stuff like self-defense classes, or church, or friendly games of raquetball, or, like, community events. Ohhhh no, my friends. I get super involved in superficial things, like tv shows and movies. For example, I’ve recently taken it upon myself to re-watch the entire Dawson’s Creek series. I’m on season 2 right now, and it really takes, like, everything I have to not vehemently describe my hatred of Dawson on social networking sites. Oh wait, I’m totally guilty of that. And repeatedly texting seething text messages to my dear friend Erica.

4.) Just when it seems like I’m totally superficial and only care about things that really don’t matter at all (read: that Dawson’s Creek rant above), I’ll come at you hard with stuff that actually matters to me. I’ll sometimes lay my soul out bare for you to browse the wreckage, and sometimes it’ll for no one’s benefit but my own. Life happens, hearts get hurt, and a girl’s gotta get her feelings out. It’s my blog, I make the rules.

5.) Life’s an adventure. My current status is slightly less than ideal but I can honestly say I’m happy. I live upstairs at my grandma’s and she’s a nut (hence the name). I fully intend on sharing the moments that leave me wondering what the hell?! and how is she still alive?! and what was that that she made for dinner that I pretended to love? along with that was so offensive! and get me out of here!

Buckle up, friends. It might get bumpy. 🙂