as i teeter in between writhing pain and a surreal sense of calm, a friend and i had a conversation about lovers past, and how those scars on our hearts are affecting the way we love now. because honestly, there is no denying that the way we love is deeply persuaded by the way we once loved and were loved. we harbour fears like stolen cargo stashed in the crevices of our hearts.

to all who know me, you know that my relationships are often complicated even after they have fizzled out. what is a feeble attempt at post-relationship friendship turns into the green eyed wrath of the human condition, the forked tongue of truth cuts the sexual tension like a knife, and what was once burning passion turns into wretched burn marks on the inside of my cranium. so when i told my friend that i had come to terms with that, and that i had finally come to respect the scars on our hearts as maps to better tomorrows, she asked me, 

“if (he’ll) always have a place in your heart, why aren’t you still with (him)?” [in reference to an ex i had gone back and forth to]

and i figured out why. finally, after all this time, i can say i figured out why.

 because i deserve better.

i deserve someone who is willing to jump fences for me, not be on the fence about me. I deserve someone who is patient in laying beside me , not someone who is quick to lay a hand on me. i deserve more than what i have previously allowed into my fortress of a heart. i will not wait around for someone to decide whether or not to invest in me, or allow someone investing too much in me be the deciding factor on my happiness. 

i will be no one’s second choice.

i will be no one’s obligation.

but i will accept the love i am given, in the most simplest of terms. 

and because of that, that’s why i think i’m ready for this. i’m ready to trust someone with my time, my follies, my demons, and myself; in the most simplest of terms. 

people often question me when i tell them that i am in a new relationship. they ask me how well i know him, or if i know i’m ready to date again (because my relationship before the last big one sort of tanked then i started to fool around in compensation), or whether or not i am stable enough to date. and although i understand their concern and i love everyone deeply for their opinions, i’ve finally come to terms with the ability to say

fuck you.

granted, i’m still scarred. i’m still scared. i’m still a lot of things- some of which are particularly negative. but the moral of the story is that not everything is going to be clean cut. sometimes love is going to smack you hard across the face until you question the stability of the ground you stand on. sometimes love is going to reject you because you make them grow weary, and you make them think unholy things about this life. 

and sometimes love sees you in a room full of strangers, and makes you laugh. sometimes love will take your hand and showers you with kisses. sometimes love fights with you, but in the end,

love is there.

and darlings, that’s just what i need.

ease into the heat
as the dreams of the night fade
and the lingering dust of darkness vanishes from your eyes
ease into the morning light
let it swallow you
engulf you
in love
in lust
in light.

i don’t know how to write happy things. the irony in that is that i am actually happy. there’s this guy who makes my heart melt with a single glance. who can promise me at least tonight without a waiver or fear. who is so painfully honest that i trust him, and i haven’t even known him that long. i don’t know how to be fully happy with the situation though, because of all the people who are invested in my life and who i thought would be there to support me with my happiness. maybe i don’t deserve this and this isn’t what i need, but honestly i don’t know what i need in this life. no one really does.

and if you don’t know what you need, then this is what you need. 

i just want to stay this happy. 

no one ever worries

when a like anna comes to town

no one ever wonders

why all the pretty girls

are so down

higher and higher they reach

just to fit into your hands

lower and lower and lower

they go

to be anna’s friend

JESUS CUHHRIST.

If there is anything I believe in, it’s the resilience of the soul to survive the demons we bear. I can’t drown my demons, because they know how to swim. But fuck it, so do I.

So. For all of that to tie in…..
I started my weekend by self medicating with drugs and alcohol to cure my extreme social anxiety. I went to a college that I don’t actually attend (insert Mean Girls reference here) and had a nice long toke with some strangers who are now friends. I went up with my ex, and since our mutual friends were all tied up in their own lives, i tagged along for a meet and greet with his friends/his friends’ friends. I met some interesting characters while trying to stay on my toes, one of whom I think fate placed in my life for a reason.

Sometimes we forget that we’re not the only ones with demons, and that the obligation of strength is a heavy cross to bear. And sometimes blue eyes are bluer on the inside.

But because i’m ‘Mama Bear’ & am utterly nocturnal, I left in the middle of the night to curl up with vices and broken hearts. Undoubtedly, the only marks love ever leaves behind are scars, and all I can really do to ease the hurt is swish and disappear. 

And in light of all of this, my mother decides to baracade the house to prevent me from coming home because i am a disappointment.

So even though I’m “grounded” and worthless, I left in the middle of the night to watch the sunrise with my mates. one of whom I am conveniently fucking and getting heart strings all tangled up in. I refuse to commit to anything other than casual fucking though, because I am just not ready to abandon control of the situation. But something in the way he pushes my hair back behind my ear makes me want to curl up with him in my sleep instead of zipping up and leaving him in the dark. All this time I’d spent rebuilding my ability to break hearts, and suddenly I’m melting at his touch. I feel like this is going to be a bad case something… It’s weirdly comforting when his fingers nimbly dance across my side.

Well the trouble with that is, one of my other mates may have mixed feelings about the scenario. I think he wanted us to just be casual fuckers, and when casual fucking includes sunrise kisses and straddling in the sand, it gets everyone’s blood boiled. and I’m really sorry my hormones fuck everything up in our friendship. I’m not trying to be awkward or weird or anything like that. I’m not trying to be a reminder of your own hearts, I just want everyone to be happy and eat sunshine and shit rainbows. But that’s not how life works. I feel overwhelming guilt about the whole thing, because I have the kind of friends who would do anything for each other, and anything for each other’s happiness. 

And all that was reaffirmed in Richmond today, after minimal sleep and the weight of the world on our shoulders. I am a shitty person but a half decent friend. And maybe a better lover. But fuck it, in the end,

I’m human.

And I Just couldn’t find a way to be comfortable. Laying next to Jon felt weird and bewildering, and not safe. It almost made me feel really anxious, and I didn’t like it. So now I’m in the District with my ex-pregnant friend, a friend from middle school I haven’t seen since middle school, and Cori. I don’t know. Being in a bed instead of the floor isn’t any better, but it’s less uncomfortable than zach’s.

writing a letter to a friend with ink and quill… some of life’s little pleasures.

Some things never change. Teen angst turns into quarter-life crises, girls do what they want, and boys do what they can. But it’s a little heart breaking How much less poetic I am in my daily vernacular now. I went from quoting theologians to tweets like “lol I’m So drunkk ”

I thought we were supposed time get smarter with time?

trying to write down a poem i thought of while walking is like trying to sift individual grains of sand in an hourglass. 

the words have dissipated into the humidity like it was a survival method