The way I am around you

With you, I forget things. Not big things, of course, but I let many things slip through my fingers unnoticed. I would have thought it impossible before I met you to let go of the self-imposed anxiousness which used to colour my nights spent staring at the ceiling. My life often feels so full of unimportant matters and obligations which talk at me from every angle, noises which somehow quiet into a dull hum when we’re together. I know that it’s not a universal positive to be rendered so uncritical, so unaffected by the outside world, when you’re with someone, but I am. I tend to forget the minor work stress that was nagging at the back of my head all morning, following me around my commute or my lunch with a friend, whispering in my ear that I have so much left to do — with you, it is silent.

And I’m not one to usually love silence, either. In everyday conversation, I am often overwhelmed with the desire to fill awkward silences and spark conversations. Even if the thoughts are mundane, I’m glad to be filled with them, because it will mean that I don’t live with a kind of echoing quietness in my own head. But with you, the silence is never awkward. It’s never something forced upon me by the overwrought rules of polite conversation. The silence — both internal and in our interactions — is one of calm, of peaceful conviction and satisfaction. I am reminded, in those warmly quiet moments, of dogs lying in the sunlight with their belly facing the window. All day, they’ve been running. All day, all they long to do is make noise and play and be seen. But when the sun hits them just right and surrounds them on all sides with that hushed kind of comfort, they have never been more happy to be still.

With you, I feel a kind of confidence that I used to imagine was only possessed by those incredibly pretty, well-liked girls in high school. You know, the ones that used to walk down the hallway and seem to be at once loved and loathed by everyone they crossed paths with. To me, their ability to carry themselves with such assuredness and poise was always foreign, always frightening. Now I understand what it feels like to be loved, to be admired. Perhaps it isn’t coming from a million directions at once, but I don’t need it. In fact, I’m not even sure it is your gaze which renders me so full of life and certainty. It is perhaps the version of me that I am able to see in your eyes. They are two tiny reflecting pools in which I am the person I have always wanted to be, smart and beautiful and worthy of being loved.

It is something that I have borrowed, something I take with me when I go to work, or walk to the corner to pick up a carton of milk. While I know that the paintings of one another we’ve constructed in our own minds are perhaps too forgiving, too fuzzy around the flaws, I see no reason to look for a clearer picture. If only we were all capable of seeing each other the way our lover sees us, the way we must look on a Sunday morning while walking in with breakfast in bed. There is no reason that we can’t smear a little Vaseline on the lens of who we are and appreciate that perfection is not something we should ever be striving for — and I try to do this with myself. Your compliments do not fall on deaf ears; they are actively creating a portrait that I am trying to commit to memory.

With you, I am generous. I want to be this way because I understand it’s the right thing and I have learned to extract more joy from the act of giving than of receiving. Few things make me happier than seeing your face light up with something I have done for you — a surprise, a gift, a kind word when it is needed most. I don’t think that you need these things to live your life (just as I’m sure I could make it the rest of mine without another lunch in the park with you), but there is no reason we should have to. If life can be made more beautiful with generosity, and care, and affection, there is no reason to stifle it or keep it in some confused concept of moderation. With generosity, there can always be more.

I know that all of these things make me better. And I know that I am better when I am around you, and that the real goal is to learn how to apply these lessons and desires and streaks of unabashed confidence to every aspect of my life. I should be just as generous with friends, just as confident at work, just as forgiving of my daily stresses as I am when you are with me. Because that, I think, is the greatest gift we can ever give another person: To see that life can be lived more beautifully and more honestly, and that you don’t even need to be in love to do it.


It takes a man to live… It takes a woman to make him compromise

When we were younger we thought
Everyone was on our side
Then we grew a little bit
And romanticized the time I saw
Flowers in your hair
It takes a boy to live
It takes a man to pretend he was there

So then we grew a little and knew a lot
And now we demonstrated it to the cops
And all the things we said
We were self-assured

Cause it’s a long road to wisdom
But it’s a short one
To being ignored

Be in my eyes
Be in my heart
Be in my eyes
And be in my heart

So now I think that I could
Love you back
And I hope it’s not too late cause you’re so attractive
And the way you move
I won’t close my eyes
It takes a man to live
It takes a woman to make him compromise

Be in my eyes
Be in my heart
Be in my eyes
And be in my heart

I miss you

I will miss you.

I will miss you fleetingly, for a second every now and then, in a moment of weakness or fragility. I will miss you perpetually, every second, in moments of strength and happiness. I will think about how good it felt, like an evanescent, elusive dream.

I will miss you achingly, until every little nerve inside of me sets itself on fire and wants to break apart and escape from the confines of this body to find you, because honestly, you were the glue. I will tremble and shake and realise with pain, with tears in my eyes. I will let it go. I will realise that it has turned into a torrential downpour, and like a dam bursting, I will not be able to control it. I will feel the barely-repaired pieces of my heart break again.

I will miss you with a strange sense of detachment. It will be at times when I am doing nothing, and suddenly you will make your presence felt throughout me. Maybe it will be that I still haven’t wrapped my head around your absence. I will know that it was for the best, but I will still wonder as to how my life would have been if things had been different.

I will miss you with bitterness, with darkness and anger I did not know I possessed. I will think of you in my darkest hour and will curse you for everything that is currently going wrong in my life and everything that will go wrong. I will imagine a life where you and I never collide and everything remains picture perfect. I will hate you for tainting the memories of a time never coming back.

I will miss you with a song on my heart. Reminiscing about our moments, so light and happy, I will find them full of an easy gaiety I found with no one else.

I will know that we have limited time together so I’ll do my best to make the most of it. I will, at the same time, be afraid to give my all to you. You will leave soon enough, so I hope you will not hold it against me.

I will miss you even though you’re going to be back. Those little habits of yours which annoy me to no end will be the things I miss the most. I will wait eagerly for your return. It will be filled with sweet anticipation.

I will miss you because you were once a part of my life, because you’re not here anymore and because it hurts.

But most of all I will miss you because you will always be part of my life, you will always be with me and I will always be with you. Image

And I said: what, why? Why do you need to know? What does it matter?

We’ve grown up being told we need a reason for everything, that there’s a meaning behind every single thing and if only you figure out what it is, you’ll succeed, you’ll have made it. Wake up, make your bed, get out, be nice, work hard, eat well, be nicer, work harder, read good books, say your prayers, go to sleep, have peaceful dreams. Repeat.

But it’s not for us, darling, it never was. I don’t believe in a higher meaning, nor do I need a purpose to live for. I believe in us, in life, in the magical reality of everything around us. Look at it, then look again, look harder because I can’t make you see until you want to. 
This is it. This is all there is to it, and it’s wonderful enough as it is. I don’t believe in god or praying. In don’t believe in heaven or hell. There’s no afterlife I’m hoping for, no deadline I’m dreading. I don’t need to know what we’re put on earth for – I don’t believe we were put on earth to begin with. We became and here we are.

Insignificant to the universe, we could easily not have been here and all would still be as it is. But we’re here now and for that we’re infinitely blessed. You get to feel the cherry blossoms in your hands. Swim in cold water while the sun rises and warms your shoulders. Make love and cry because you’re sad or cry because you’re happy and never have to explain, because the tears stain all the same. You get to grow and dance and drink and see the world in every place you travel to. See birthmarks on your skin develop into patterns that mirror constellations if only you’d look long enough. I’ve got Orion on my thigh and your back’s just one mark short of Cassiopeia.

If you take us all apart, you’d find we’re all made of stardust – as are the trees, the frogs, the grass as well as the dew on it – why would we be any more special? I’ve never seen a tree stop mid-sway to contemplate why it’s moving and if it’ll ever get any closer. It sways and sways and sways and pretends it makes the same wind blow that it is rocking to.

We hold remnants of long lost stars in our veins. That’s not an answer, but it’s still magnificent and nothing can ever be both pointless and magnificent.

From the thought catalog

For Helen…because its true and I will miss you!

Remember how he walks, the colour of his skin, the curve of his neck, the shape of his lips, and find it in the strangers you meet day after day. Find him in other people and think how truly ordinary he is because you see him so much in other people.

Forget how his eyes looked when he was trying so valiantly to tell you how sorry he was. Forget how deep it seemed that cold rainy night and how the pain reflected in his eyes was enough to make you stumble forward and hug him like it was the first time. You gave your all to that hug, wrapped your arms around his body and buried your head into his arms. Forget how you wanted to stay there forever and just skip the talking. Forget how you pulled away and looked into his eyes so you can tell him that you still don’t believe him.

Forget how the sides of his mouth turn up and how his hands reach out to touch any part of you every time you see each other. Forget the feeling of ‘being found,’ do not even feel that way again for anyone.

Forget that one boring afternoon when you suddenly convinced him to shoot music videos. He was the star of everything. He was too good in your eyes that you even included the crappy shots. Do not even watch it for one last time. Delete all the memories to forget. Delete the music. Delete the place. Delete the person from your hard drive. Fill them with someone else right then and there. Remark at how easy it was.

Forget his gift for your  birthday. Forget his efforts for you. Dispose of all his gifts, those things that he bought for you because you both know it would be funny. Laugh because you can’t find it anywhere. Not in your room, not around the house, not in your bag. Hate his letters but don’t throw them away yet. Convince yourself to not believe in those kinds of lies and read them anytime someone tells you those things again. Do not ever forget these lies.

Forget the time he cried one night because he was telling you something about his mother. Forget his secrets, his quirks, the things that he claims he had only said to you. Share them with someone unrelated to him. Someone who doesn’t really know him. Transfer the burden of the only person knowing those things right at the moment. Assure yourself he’s going to tell them to someone else sooner or later. Cherish the idea of having a social side wherein no one knows he exists. Find time to be with them as much as possible.

Forget who he is. Remember to forget. Remember how he walks, the colour of his skin, the curve of his neck, the shape of his lips, and find it in the strangers you meet day after day. Find him in other people and think how truly ordinary he is because you see him so much in other people. People you don’t even know. People you know. Fight the nostalgia. Be in understated comfort knowing he wasn’t really special to begin with.

And lastly, forget yourself. Forget who you are when you are with him. Forget the unwilling relationship he had imposed on you, leave all the traces of his negativity behind you. Forget how happy he made you feel, likewise remember how stupid you felt when you believed him. Forget being forgiving, how he was the only person to have broken your trust more than enough times and yet, stick to him undeserving so. Forget being noble, for sticking to a person who doesn’t deserve you. For thinking that maybe you both could do good in each other’s lives. Forget being idealistic, how he managed to corrupt your mind that something can overcome all trivialities: something called love (platonic or otherwise). Forget being mad and mean, a consequence of being in a place wrought out of lies.

Forget who you are when you are with him and find yourself in a place rid of any trace of him. Forget everything and start in a better place.

From the Thought Catalog

23 things a star knew at 23

Another list from a good friend.

Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket never let it fade away! I really enjoyed number 12. Its so true, so many people. I know that were ‘all that’ in high school are either coke heads or decidedly average, while the girls who were ‘weird’ and ‘uncool’ are all successful young women. Take that popularity!


  1. I LOVE with all my heart, and hurt with all my heart.
  2. Crying is inevitable for me. Tears never run out of stock, I’ve tried.
  3. Girls don’t like me, and I don’t care.
  4. Clever humour always trumps wash board abs.
  5. Wash Board Abs  don’t ever hurt though.
  6. Pets bring a kind of love into a home that no one else can ever replace.
  7. No  matter how many times I’ve been hurt, or lied to or betrayed, I never lose my faith in people. Naive? Maybe.
  8. I am naive, clumsy and somewhat dorky. But I choose to believe its charming.
  9. Nothing about my body is symmetrical. But symmetry is boring.
  10. Intelligence is extremely subjective.
  11. I will never be the most interesting person in the room but I wont be forgotten easily either.
  12. High School was pretty much redundant. Your life and worth only really begins when you realise being a prefect and having pretty colours on your blazer means nothing in the real world.
  13. Grief never really goes away, but it does get easier to deal with.
  14. No girl will ever be completely happy with her body, but remembering the good things is important. I have great boobs, I own them, they’re mine.
  15. Whether I like it or not, I want my parents’ life one day. I want a husband like my dad and I want o be a wife like my mom is.
  16. My brother will always be my friend.
  17. I love corny. I will sing along to lame music.
  18. There is such a thing as someone true love, someone will love me for me. All of me. One day.
  19. My Grandmother understood me like no one else can, or probably ever will.
  20. The sea side is where I’m meant to be. And will definitely end up.
  21. The value friends add to my life ALWAYS pleasantly surprises me.
  22. That I will probably never be OK with making mistakes, but will make them anyway.
  23. Number 23 is last because it took my this long to find out that I have a lot to offer the world and the people that choose to share life with me.